When she came to herself she called to her husband, and bade him light a candle; this he did, on which the old hag in the corner rose up at once and blew it out. Then he lit it a second time, and it was blown out; and still a third time he lit the candle, when again it was blown out, and a great peal of laughter was heard in the darkness.
On this the man grew terribly angry, and taking up the tongs he made a blow at the hag; but she slipped away, and struck him on the arm with a stick she held in her hand. Then he grew more furious, and beat her on the head till she roared, when he pushed her outside and locked the door.
After this he lit the candle in peace; but when they looked at the cradle, lo! in place of their own beautiful boy, a hideous little creature, all covered with hair, lay grinning at them. Great was their grief and lamentation, and both the man and his wife wept and wailed aloud for the loss of their child, and the cry of their sorrow was bitter to hear.
Just then the door suddenly opened, and a young woman came in, with a scarlet handkerchief wound round her head.
“What are you crying for,” she asked, “at this time of night, when every one should be asleep?”
“Look at this child in the cradle,” answered the man, “and you will cease to wonder why we mourn and are sad at heart.” And he told her all the story.
When the young woman went over to the cradle and looked at the child, she laughed, but said nothing.
“Your laughter is stranger than our tears,” said the man. “Why do you laugh in the face of our sorrows?”
“Because,” she said, “this is my child that was stolen from me to-night; for I am one of the fairy race, and my people, who live under the fort on the hill, thought your boy was a fine child, and so they changed the babies in the cradle; but, after all, I would rather have my own, ugly as he is, than any mortal child in the world. So now I’ll tell you how to get back your own son, and I’ll take away mine at once. Go to the old fort on the hill when the moon is full, and take with you three sheafs of corn and some fire, and burn them one after the other. And when the last sheaf is burning, an old man will come up through the smoke, and he will ask you what it is you desire. Then tell him you must have your child back, or you will burn down the fort, and leave no dwelling-place for his people on the hill. Now, the fairies cannot stand against the power of fire, and they will give you back your child at the mere threat of burning the fort. But mind, take good care of him after, and tie a nail from a horse-shoe round his neck, and then he will be safe.”
With that the young woman took up the ugly little imp from the cradle in her arms, and was away before they could see how she got out of the house.