“I have one more wish, Mr. Schatzhauser,” replied Peter, with his look cast down.
“Can hearts of stone still wish?” said the former. “You have all your corrupt mind can need, and I could scarcely fulfil your wish.”
“But you have promised to grant me three wishes, and one I have still left.”
“I can refuse it if it is foolish,” continued the spirit; “but come, let me hear what you wish.”
“Well, take the dead stone out of me, and give me a living heart,” said Peter.
“Have I made the bargain about the heart with you?” asked the glass-mannikin. “Am I the Dutch Michel, who gives wealth and cold hearts? It is of him you must seek to regain your heart.”
“Alas! he will never give it back,” said Peter.
“Bad as you are, yet I feel pity for you,” continued the little man, after some consideration; “and as your wish is not foolish, I cannot at least refuse my help. Hear then. You can never recover your heart by force, only by stratagem, but probably you will find it without difficulty; for Michel will ever be stupid Michel, although he fancies himself very shrewd. Go straightway to him, and do as I tell you.” He now instructed Peter fully, and gave him a small cross of pure glass, saying, “He cannot touch your life and will let you go when you hold this before him and repeat a prayer. When you have obtained your wish return to me.”
Peter took the cross, impressed all his words on his memory, and started on his way to the Dutchman Michel’s residence; there he called his name three times and immediately the giant stood before him.
“You have slain your wife?” he asked, with a grim laugh. “I should have done the same, she wasted your property on beggars; but you will be obliged to leave the country for some time; and I suppose you want money and have come to get it?”