Maria stepped inside and closed the door and immediately the forest grew dark again. Then she arranged a shawl about the figure so that the door would not show, took a staff in her hand and hobbled away through the forest, for the figure was made in such a way that it would move almost as easily as a real body.
All this time the magician had been pursuing the firefly. It led him this way and that but always away from the coach. It did not fly fast, and several times he thought he had it, but it always slipped through his fingers. The fact was the firefly was really the fairy who had taken this shape in order to lure him away through the forest and give Maria a chance to escape.
Suddenly a soft light shone through the forest and then died away. By that the fairy knew that Maria had found the figure and had stepped inside and closed the door. Then the firefly disappeared altogether, leaving the magician there alone in the darkness.
He made his way back to the coach in a very bad humor. “I could not catch the firefly,” said he in a gruff voice; “I only succeeded in bruising myself against the trees.” There was no answer. “Do you not hear?” cried he angrily. “I tell you I am black and blue with bruises, and all because you were silly enough to want a firefly.” Still there was no answer, and the magician looked inside the coach. No one was there. Then he understood that he had been tricked, and he was in a fine rage. He ran about through the forest like a wild thing, peering and searching for his lost bride, and it would have been an ill thing for her if he had found her then. At last he came upon an old woman hobbling along with a staff in her hand, and a shawl about her shoulders.
“Tell me, old woman,” he cried, “have you seen a beautiful young girl anywhere in the forest? A beautiful young girl dressed as a bride?”
“I have seen no one but you,” mumbled the old crone. “Not a living soul but you,” and she hobbled on still mumbling to herself.
The magician did not waste another glance upon her, for he never dreamed the beautiful young Maria was hidden inside that ugly old figure, but she was almost dead with fear lest he should guess it. He was filled with rage and despair, and rushing back to the coach he threw himself into it and was driven away like mad, and that was the last of him as far as Maria was concerned.
All that night Maria hobbled on, but toward morning she was so tired that she lay down under a tree and went to sleep. She had no fear, for robbers would never disturb one who looked as old and poor as she, and as for wild animals she was protected from them by the wooden figure in which she lay.
She slept then quietly for quite a while, but in the early morning she was awakened by the barking of dogs, and the sound of a horn. The prince of that country had come into the forest to hunt, and he and all his retinue were riding in her direction at full speed.