The King was unable to sleep. At midnight he noticed lights moving in the chamber beneath, and, applying his eye to a crack in the floor, he perceived the charcoal-burner sleeping; his wife lying in a half-fainting condition; and, lastly, standing by the new-born child, three old women, dressed in white and holding each a lighted wax candle, who were conversing.
The first said:—
"To this boy I give courage to dare all dangers."
The second said:—
"I will endow him with the faculty of being able to escape all dangers and to be long-lived."
The third said:—
"As for me, I will give him the hand of the daughter just born to the King who is sleeping in the hay-loft over our heads."
With the utterance of the last words, the lights went out and all was silent again.
The King was as much stunned with sorrow and surprise as if he had received a sword's point in his breast. Until dawn, without closing an eye, he lay thinking of how he might prevent the realization of the witch's prediction.
With the first beams of morning light, the infant began to cry. The charcoal-burner rose and, going to his wife's side, found that she was dead.