“Softly, softly!” said the lad. “Don’t boast. Very likely I am stronger than you are.”
“We shall see about that,” said the old man. “Come with me.”
Then he led the way through numberless dark passages to a smithy, took a sledge hammer, and with one blow struck an anvil down into the earth so it was nearly buried out of sight.
“I can better that,” affirmed the youth, and he went to another anvil, took an ax, and with one blow split the anvil half in two.
The old man had come so near to watch that his beard had dropped down on the anvil, and it was wedged into the crevice by the blow of the ax. “Now I have you,” said the youth, “and you will be the one to die.”
Then he seized an iron rod and belabored the old man till the sufferer shrieked for mercy and promised him great riches if he would stop. So the lad pulled out the ax, and the released captive led the way back into the castle and showed the youth three chests of gold in the cellar. “One is for the poor,” he said, “one is for the king, and one is for you.”
The clock struck twelve just as the old man finished speaking, and he disappeared and left the youth alone in the dense darkness of the cellar. “I must manage to get out somehow,” said the lad, and he groped about till he found his way back to the room where he had his fire. There he lay down and went to sleep.
Next morning the king came and said, “Surely you have now learned to shiver.”
“No,” said the youth, “a coffin was brought to me containing a man who was nearly frozen, and when I revived him he wanted to strangle me. Afterward, an old man came who wanted to kill me, but I got the better of him, and he showed me a lot of gold. However, no one can show me what shivering means.”
Then the king said, “You have broken the spell on the castle, and you shall be made a prince and marry my daughter.”