“Am I going mad?” he said. “How could I do such a thing?”
At the same moment the door of the workshop opened and the wood-nymph walked in.
She stood on the threshold, smiling and fair. Her green dress had neither hole nor stain, no smoke darkened her yellow hair. She was just as he had seen her in the market-place at Karlstad in his young days; her tail hung between her feet, and she had all the wildness and fragrance of the wood about her.
“Ekeby is burning,” she said, and laughed.
Kevenhüller had the sledge-hammer lifted and meant to throw it at her head, but then he saw that she had his fire-wheel in her hand.
“See what I have saved for you,” she said.
Kevenhüller threw himself on his knees before her.
“You have broken my carriage, you have rent my wings, and you have ruined my life. Have grace, have pity on me!”
She climbed up on the bench and sat there, just as young and mischievous as when he saw her first.
“I see that you know who I am,” she said.