“Then I would rather have her as a golden statue,” shrieked Hocky avariciously, approaching Kelch.
“You hear what he says!” cried Kelch: “I love Filina for herself, Hocky loves her because she is turned to gold, and would rather see the father unhappy than let her be alive again.”
“She’s mine,” said Hocky rudely, getting in front of the golden statue; “I have her father’s word, and all this gold is my own.”
“What will you do with her?” asked Filina’s father tremulously.
“Melt her down into broad gold pieces,” roared Hocky, dancing; “into the furnace she shall go.”
“What! melt my daughter!” said the old man in a wrathful tone. “Never! You shall not have her—sooner than that I’ll give her to Kelch.”
“Keep your promise, and I’ll change her into a living woman once more,” cried Kelch eagerly. “I love your daughter for her own sake.”
“Give me my daughter once more, and you will be her husband,” said Filina’s father quickly.
“No—no!” yelled Hocky; “the statue is mine—mine!”
“What do you all say?” said Kelch, turning to the villagers. “You drove me from my home because you said I was a magician; now I have brought back Filina, and can restore her to life, so you see I am not so bad as you thought I was.”