As for the lad he sat and nursed his bruises and wished he had never heard tell of such a thing as a cellar.
Not long after the master said he was going on another journey. “I will be gone two weeks,” said he, “and whatever you do, do not dare to look into any of the other cellars, or you will suffer for it.”
“I have learned my lesson,” said the lad. “You’ll not find me doing such a thing again.”
After that the master mounted his horse and rode away.
After he had gone the lad cleaned and polished and ate and drank, and then he began to wonder what was in the second cellar. “There must be something more than a stick to see,” said he, “or my master would not be so particular about it.” In the end he determined to look at what was in the second cellar, whatever it cost him. He opened the door and went down the stone steps that led to it and looked about, but all he saw was a shelf behind the door, and on it a stone and a water bottle.
“They are not much to see, and I wish I had not come,” said the lad to himself. “I hope my master will not know about it;” and then he went upstairs and shut the door behind him.
Not long afterward his master came home. The first thing he asked was, “Have you been down in any of the cellars again?”
“How can you think such a thing!” cried the lad. “I have no wish for another beating.”
“All the same, I will see for myself,” said the master, and he went down into the second cellar. Then the lad was frightened, you may well believe.
When the Master came back his face was as red as fire. “You have disobeyed me again,” cried he. Then he seized a cudgel and beat the lad till he could hardly stand.