But he had little time for reflection, for the tumult grew louder and came nearer. The door of the hall was broken in with heavy blows, and with loud shouts a troop of men, dripping with blood, rushed in and threw themselves in rage upon him, crying: "We have thee at last, thou foul knave! thou who hast robbed and murdered so many. At last the hour of retribution has come."
And the leader cried: "Fasten a rope to the arch of the gates, give him an hour to say his prayers, but in the deepest dungeon, and then hang him for a punishment and a warning."
And strong arms seized him and threw him in the dungeon on damp straw.
There he lay, and could not for some time collect his thoughts; but when he came to his full senses a deep sorrow seized him to see what he had brought upon himself through his foolish wish. Now he must die as a criminal, separated from wife and children, who would never know what had become of him.
"Ah!" cried he in anguish. "Graumännchen! Graumännchen! why hast thou done this? If thou hast granted me, fool that I was, two wishes, so grant me the third—the only one I have—to return home," and hot tears rolled down his face.
But when he had dried his eyes, and opened them again, he drew a long breath, for he lay on the banks of the Bode beside his nets, which had filled with fish; and of Schloss and Ritter was nothing to be seen—only the ruins as ever.
Graumännchen stood by him, pressed his hand, and said with friendly smile: "Willst thou be henceforth contented, or hast thou still another wish?"
"Nein! Nein!" cried the fisherman decidedly, "I have not a wish but to remain what I am my life long."
Graumännchen took his departure with a smile, and the fisherman's dreams of castle and knight with him.
For many years he related only to his wife what had happened, but as he grew old he told the history to his sons, that they might learn therefrom the same lesson as himself.