The priest returned home, and told his son to get ready. In the morning the priest’s son went to his lessons, and sat over his book looking ever so gloomy.
“What are you unhappy about?” asked the old woman.
“How can I help being unhappy, when I’m utterly done for?”
“Why what’s the matter? Speak out plainly.”
“Well then, granny, I’ve got to read psalms over the princess, and, do you know, she’s a witch!”
“I knew that before you did! But don’t be frightened, there’s a knife for you. When you go into the church, trace a circle round you; then read away from your psalter and don’t look behind you. Whatever happens there, whatever horrors may appear, mind your own business and go on reading, reading. But if you look behind you, it will be all over with you!”
In the evening the boy went to the church, traced a circle round him with the knife, and betook himself to the psalter. Twelve o’clock struck. The lid of the coffin flew up; the Princess arose, leapt out, and cried—
“Now I’ll teach you to go peeping through my windows, and telling people what you saw!”
She began rushing at the priest’s son, but she couldn’t anyhow break into the circle. Then she began to conjure up all sorts of horrors. But in spite of all that she did, he went on reading and reading, and never gave a look round. And at daybreak the Princess rushed at her coffin, and tumbled into it at full length, all of a heap.
The next night everything went on just the same. The priest’s son wasn’t a bit afraid, went on reading without a stop right up to daybreak, and in the morning went to the old woman. She asked him—