And his bells rang so full, so clear and pure in tone; he cast love and faith in with the metal.
And Stolberg desired also a work from his hand, and the master employed every means to produce a perfect bell for his place of residence.
But it was as if the Evil One had a hand too in the work, for the cast was a perfect failure.
Vexed, he threw the bell aside, commanded his sixteen-years-old apprentice to prepare everything for a new cast on a certain day, so soon as he returned, and then departed to visit his father, who was also a bell-founder, to relate his failure and ask his advice.
The thoughtful apprentice reflected unceasingly on the cause of the failure of his so skilful master in the last bell.
After long speculation he discovered the cause, sprang up joyfully, worked day and night, and soon the bell stood without a flaw before the youth's delighted eyes.
His heart beating high with joy, he went to meet his master, and found him sitting on a stone resting from the fatigue of his long walk. This stone tradition still points out in the Steigerthal, moss-grown, with a bell and a club hewn in it.
The apprentice could not keep his secret, and with a countenance shining with joy told his master that he had already cast another bell, which was perfect, and of the sweetest tone.
Then the veins on the master's forehead swelled with shame; rage and fury to find himself excelled by his pupil filled his usually mild heart.
He sprang from the stone, seized his cane, and gave the youth such a powerful blow on his head that he sank bleeding, with glassy eyes, in the grass.