When the sun went down and the brothers came back they were alarmed at finding her mute; they thought it was some new witchcraft exercised by their wicked stepmother. But when they saw her hands they understood that it was for their sakes; the youngest brother wept, and wherever his tears fell she felt no more pain and the blisters disappeared.
She spent the whole night at her work, for she could not rest till she had delivered her dear brothers. All the following day while her brothers were away she sat solitary, but never had the time flown so fast. One coat of mail was finished, and she began the next. Then a hunting-horn sounded among the mountains; she was much frightened; the sound came nearer, and she heard dogs barking. In terror she rushed into the cave, and tied the nettles she had collected and woven into a bundle, upon which she sat.
At this moment a big dog bounded forward from the thicket, and another and another; they barked loudly, and ran backward and forward. In a few minutes all the huntsmen were standing outside the cave, and the handsomest of them was the king of the country. He stepped up to Elise; never had he seen so lovely a girl.
“How came you here, beautiful child?” he said.
Elise shook her head; she dared not speak; the salvation and the lives of her brothers depended upon her silence. She hid her hands under her apron, so that the king should not see what she suffered.
“Come with me,” he said; “you cannot stay here. If you are as good as you are beautiful I will dress you in silks and velvets, put a golden crown upon your head, and you shall live with me and have your home in my richest palace!” Then he lifted her upon his horse: she wept and wrung her hands, but the king said: “I only think of your happiness; you will thank me one day for what I am doing!” Then he darted off across the mountains, holding her before him on his horse, and the huntsmen followed.
When the sun went down the royal city with churches and cupolas lay before them, and the king led her into the palace, where great fountains played in the marble halls, and where walls and ceilings were adorned with paintings; but she had no eyes for them, she only wept and sorrowed. Passively she allowed the women to dress her in royal robes, to twist pearls into her hair, and to draw gloves onto her blistered hands.
She was dazzlingly lovely as she stood there in all her magnificence; the courtiers bent low before her, and the king wooed her as his bride, although the archbishop shook his head, and whispered that he feared the beautiful wood maiden was a witch who had dazzled their eyes and infatuated the king.
The king refused to listen to him; he ordered the music to play, the richest food to be brought, and the loveliest girls to dance before her. She was led through scented gardens into gorgeous apartments, but nothing brought a smile to her lips or into her eyes; sorrow sat there like a heritage and a possession for all time. Last of all, the king opened the door of a little chamber close by the room where she was to sleep. It was adorned with costly green carpets, and made to exactly resemble the cave where he found her. On the floor lay the bundle of flax she had spun from the nettles, and from the ceiling hung the shirt of mail which was already finished. One of the huntsmen had brought all these things away as curiosities.
“Here you may dream that you are back in your former home!” said the king. “Here is the work upon which you were engaged; in the midst of your splendor, it may amuse you to think of those times.”