“Alas, my dear son,” said she, “what I feared has come to pass at last. I would have warned you before that the bride you had chosen was a wicked enchantress, but I knew you would not listen to me. Now, however, she has shown herself in her own wicked character. She has sacrificed her children to an evil spirit, and it is only right that she should be punished for her wickedness.”
The count knew not what to answer to this. He still loved Matilda, but if she had done such a wicked thing as to give her children to an evil spirit, she must suffer for it.
“What you say may be true,” said he to his mother. “As for me, I am so distracted that I no longer seem to understand anything. I will go away on a long journey, and I will leave Matilda in your hands. Do as you think best with her, only treat her as gently as you can.”
As soon as the count had said this he left his mother and went away, and it was well for his mother that he did so. She was so overjoyed at the way her plans had turned out that she could no longer hide her satisfaction. The count left the castle without bidding farewell to his wife. Matilda was cut to the heart when she found he had left her without a word. She was also terrified at the thought that now the old countess had her in her power.
Matilda had indeed good cause for fear. As soon as the count had gone, his mother caused an iron room to be built. All about this room were ovens arranged in such a way that the room could be made so hot that it would be impossible for anyone to remain in it for long and live. After it was finished, Matilda was induced to go into it, and as soon as she was inside, the door was shut and locked.
The moment Matilda found that she had been locked in the room alone, she suspected some evil. She looked about her for a way of escape, but the walls were of iron, and the room had been built in such a way that there were no windows.
“Alas,” said Matilda, “are my misfortunes never to end? Oh, my dear husband, how had you the heart to leave me here alone and in the power of that wicked woman?”
In her despair Matilda threw herself down upon the floor of the room. As she did so, she felt something hard in the pocket of her dress. She slipped her hand into it and drew out the wooden ball that she had so long forgotten. One more wish was left to her. Now, if ever, was her time of need. Holding it in her hand she whispered:
“Little ball, so great my need,
Only you can help indeed;