The Soldier took the phials of blood out of the Warlock’s pockets, and went on to the house of his own people. When he had got there, and had exchanged greetings with his relatives, they said:
“Did you see any disturbance, Soldier?”
“No, I saw none.”
“There now! Why we’ve a terrible piece of work going on in the village. A Warlock has taken to haunting it!”
After talking awhile, they lay down to sleep. Next morning the Soldier awoke, and began asking:
“I’m told you’ve got a wedding going on somewhere here?”
“There was a wedding in the house of a rich moujik,” replied his relatives, “but the bride and bridegroom have died this very night—what from, nobody knows.”
“Where does this moujik live?”
They showed him the house. Thither he went without speaking a word. When he got there, he found the whole family in tears.
“What are you mourning about?” says he.