“Let us recover our maiden!” they cry.
They look: there are no footsteps going away from the lake; all the footsteps lead into the water! They ran to and fro, they searched everywhere, but they had to go back empty handed.
Well, the good youth brought his bride to her village, and stopped opposite the priest’s house. The priest saw him and sent out his laborer, saying:
“Go and ask who those people are.”
“We? we’re travellers; please let us spend the night in your house,” they replied.
“I have merchants paying me a visit,” says the priest, “and even without them there’s but little room in the house.”
“What are you thinking of, father?” says one of the merchants. “It’s always one’s duty to accommodate a traveller, they won’t interfere with us.”
“Very well, let them come in.”
So they came in, exchanged greetings, and sat down on a bench in the back corner.
“Don’t you know me, father?” presently asks the fair maiden. “Of a surety I am your own daughter.”