On the third night he once more was in the enchanted castle sitting on his bench by the fire. “Oh, if I could only learn to shiver!” he said, in great vexation.
When it grew late, six tall men came in carrying a coffin. “Hello there!” said he, “set down your burden and make yourselves comfortable.”
They put the coffin on the floor and he went to it and removed the lid. Inside lay a man. He felt of the man’s hands and face. They were as cold as ice. “I will soon see whether there is any life left in you,” said he, and he picked up the man and sat down with him close by the fire and rubbed his arms to make the blood circulate.
After a time the man grew warm and began to move. “There,” said the youth, “you see I have got you warmed at last.”
But the man rose up and cried, “Now I will strangle you!”
“What!” exclaimed the youth, “is that all the thanks I get? Back you go into your coffin then.”
So saying, he grasped him, threw him in, and fastened down the lid. Then the six men carried the coffin away. “Oh, deary me!” sighed the youth, “I shall never learn to shiver if I stop here all my life.”
Just then a huge man entered the room. He was frightful to look at, very old, with a long white beard. “You miserable wretch!” he cried, “now you shall learn what shivering is, for you shall die.”
“Not so fast,” said the youth. “If I am to die, some one must kill me.”
“I will make short work of you,” declared the old monster.