She was terribly frightened, but answered, “I am.” “Art thou sitting?” “I sit.” “Dost thou spin?” “I spin.” “Grey wool?” “Grey.” “For a caftan?” “For a caftan.”
He made a movement towards her. Then a second time he asked again—
“Daughter-in-law, art thou there?”
“I am.” “Art thou sitting?” “I sit.” “Dost thou spin?” “I spin.” “Grey wool?” “Grey.” “For a caftan?” “For a caftan.”
She shrank into the corner. He moved again, came a couple of yards nearer her.
A third time he made a movement. She offered up no prayer. He strangled her, and then lay down again in his coffin.
His sons removed her body, and next evening, in obedience to his paternal behest, they sent another of his daughters-in-law to keep watch. To her just the same thing happened: he strangled her as he had done the first one.
But the third was sharper than the other two. She declared she had taken off her cross, but in reality she kept it on. She took her seat and spun, but said prayers to herself all the while.
Midnight arrives. Says her father-in-law from his coffin—
“Daughter-in-law, art thou there?”