“There are fifty roubles for you, but come again, friend, and read another night.”
“Very good, I’ll come.”
The Soldier returned home, lay down on the bench, and slept till evening. Then he awoke and said—
“Grandfather, the merchant bid me go and read the psalter another night. Should I go or not?”
“If you go, you won’t remain alive, and if you don’t go, just the same! But you’d better go. Don’t drink much brandy, drink just what is right; and when the wind blows, and the coffin begins to rock, slip straight into the stove. There no one will find you.”
The Soldier got ready and went to the merchant’s, who seated him at table, and began plying him with brandy. Afterwards he took him to where the corpse was, and locked him into the room.
The Soldier went on reading, reading. Midnight came, the wind blew, the coffin began to rock, the coffin lid fell afar off on the ground. He was into the stove in a moment. Out jumped the witch and began rushing about; round her swarmed devils, the room was full of them!
“What are you looking for?” they cry.
“Why, there he was reading a moment ago, and now he’s vanished out of sight. I can’t find him.”
The devils flung themselves on the stove.