“Off he set. His road lay in front of a graveyard. On one of the graves he saw a great fire blazing. What is that? Then he said: ‘Let’s have a look.’ When he drew near, he saw that the warlock was sitting at the fire, sewing boots.
“‘Hail, brother!’ calls out the soldier.
“The warlock looked up and said: ‘What have you come here for?’
“‘Why, I wanted to see what you were doing.’
“The warlock threw his work aside and invited the soldier to a wedding.
“‘Come along, brother,’ says he; ‘let’s enjoy ourselves. There is a wedding going on in the village.’
“‘Come along,’ says the soldier.
“They came to where the wedding was; they were given drink, and treated with the utmost hospitality. The warlock drank and drank, revelled and revelled, and then grew angry. He chased all the guests and relatives out of the house, threw the wedded pair into a slumber, took out two phials and an awl, pierced the hands of the bride and bridegroom with the awl, and began drawing off their blood. Having done this, he said to the soldier: ‘Now, let’s be off.’
“Accordingly, they went off. On the way the soldier said: ‘Tell me, why did you draw off their blood in those phials?’