At the end of the year, still a third child was born, and now, in order to make sure that it should not be stolen, a watch was kept over the infant—by day and night; and though he slept by Matilda’s side, there was always some one else in the room with them.
But even this precaution could not keep the nurse from carrying out her wicked plans. When the child was still only a few weeks old, she managed one evening to put a sleeping potion in the repast that was served to Matilda, and in that of the attendant as well.
Night came and the child was laid in the cradle close to Matilda’s bed. The attendant took her place at the door. It was not long, however, before Matilda and the attendant fell into a deep sleep. The nurse then stole into the room, and lifting the child from the cradle, she carried it away with her as she had the two others.
When morning came, and it was discovered that this child too had been stolen, the count could restrain himself no longer. The woman who had been in attendance was thrown into prison, and he heaped reproaches on Matilda for having allowed this third child, the most beautiful of them all, to be stolen from her side.
“You should not be surprised,” said the wicked nurse, “and the attendant is not to blame. There is some enchantment in this, and if you will come aside with me into a private room, I will tell you of some things I have seen here in the castle in the last three years.”
The count was in a state to listen to anything, and he allowed the nurse to speak to him in private, and to tell him the story that she and the old countess had arranged between them.
She told him that though Matilda seemed so fair and gentle, she was in reality a wicked enchantress. This his mother had known, and it was for this reason she had been so unwilling that he should marry her, and for no other cause. During the night when the child was stolen, the nurse said, she had been awakened by a beating of wings, and had stolen to the door and looked out. There she had seen Matilda talking with a being that from its looks could be nothing but an evil spirit. Presently (so the nurse said) Matilda had gone back into her chamber, and when she returned she was carrying the child, and she had given it into the hands of the strange being. “After that,” said the nurse, “I saw no more, for I was afraid to look. But I make no doubt that that is what has become of all the children, and that the young countess caused the attendant to fall into an enchanted sleep so that she might have a chance to give the baby to the evil spirit.”
The count was so distracted with grief that he was ready to believe anything. He remembered what Matilda had told him of her godmother the nixie, and it seemed to him possible that this water spirit had some power over her that might cause her to sacrifice her children. In his distraction he sent for his mother to question her as to what she knew.
The old countess had been waiting for this summons. She came to him at once and in haste, and her heart was full of evil joy at the thought that at last she was to have Matilda in her power.
When she appeared before her son, however, she dissembled her joy, and pretended to be sad.