"And now," asked the smith, "am I to carry her away again, for you know, uncle, she is rather heavy; and besides——"
"No," replied the priest; "I'll go away myself for a few days; during that time drown her, burn or bury her; in fact, do what you like with her, as long as you get rid of her. Perhaps, knowing I'm not at home, she'll not come back. In the meanwhile, as you are my only relation, come and live in my house and take care of my things as if they were your own; and they'll be yours soon enough, for this affair has made an old man of me."
The priest went home, followed by his nephew. Arriving there, he went to the stable, saddled the mare, got on her, gave his nephew his blessing, bade him take care of his house, and trotted off. No sooner had he gone than the smith saddled the stallion, then went and took the cook out of the sack, tied her on the stallion's saddle, then let the horse loose to follow the mare.
The poor priest had not gone a mile before he heard a horse galloping behind him, and, fearing that it was the police coming to bring him back, he spurred the mare and galloped on; but the faster he rode, the quicker the stallion galloped after him.
Looking round, the priest, to his horror and dismay, saw his cook, with her eyes starting wildly out of their sockets, and her horrid mouth gaping as black as the hole of hell, chasing him, nay, she was only a few yards behind.
The terrified priest spurred on the mare, which began to gallop along the highway; but withal she flew like an arrow, the stallion was gaining ground at every step. The priest, fainting with fear, lost all his presence of mind; he then spurred the mare across country. The poor animal reared at first, and then began to gallop over the stony plain; no obstacles could stop her, she jumped over bushes and briars, stumbling almost at every step.
The priest, palsied with terror, as ghastly pale as a ghost, could not help turning round; alas! the cook was always at his heels. His fear was such that he almost dropped from his horse. He lashed the poor mare, forgetful of all the dangers the plains of the Karst presented, for the ground yawned everywhere—here in huge, deep clefts, there in bottomless shafts; or it sank in cup-like hollows, all bordered with sharp, jagged rocks, or concealed in the bushes that surround them. His only thought was to escape from the grim spectre that pursued him. The lame and bleeding mare had stopped on the brink of one of these precipices, trembling and convulsed with terror. The priest, who had just turned round, dug his spurs into the animal's sides; she tried to clear the cleft, but missed her footing, and rolled down in the abyss. The stallion, seeing the mare disappear, stopped short, and uttered a loud neigh, shivering with fear. The shock the poor beast had got burst the bonds which held the corpse on his back, and the cook was thus chucked over his head on the prone edge of the pit.
A few days afterwards some peasants who happened to pass by found the cook sitting, stiff and stark, astride on a rock, seemingly staring, with eyes starting from their sockets and her black mouth gaping widely, at the mangled remains of her master's corpse.
As the priest had told the clerk that he was going away for a few days, everybody came to the conclusion that his cook, having followed him against his will, had frightened the mare and thus caused her own and her master's death.
The smith having been left in possession of his uncle's house, as well as of all his money and estates, and being, moreover, the only legal heir, thus found himself all at once the richest man in the village. As he was beloved by everybody, all rejoiced at his good luck, especially all those who owed money to the priest and whose debts he cancelled.