"Ah, yes. North side of the tree, wasn't it, father?"
"No, the south side. Ah, you know the spot well enough, you rogue—like enough you were there when your mother lifted it. Now, son—easy—shift this pillow—so. Good-night."
"Good-night, father!" said Hans, ready to dance for joy.
The moon rose very late that night, shining in, full and clear, at the little window; but its beams did not disturb Raff Brinker. He slept soundly, so did Gretel. As for Hans and his mother, they had something else to do.
After making a few hurried preparations, they stole forth with bright expectant faces, bearing a broken spade and a rusty implement that had done many a day's service when Raff was a hale worker on the dykes.
It was so light out of doors they could see the willow tree distinctly. The frozen ground was hard as stone, but Hans and his mother were resolute. Their only dread was that they might disturb the sleepers in the cottage.
"This ysbrekker is just the thing, mother," said Hans striking many a vigorous blow—"but the ground has set so firm it'll be a fair match for it."
"Never fear, Hans," she answered, watching him eagerly; "here, let me try a while."
They soon succeeded in making an impression; one opening, and the rest was not so difficult.