Again he looked wistfully from his high rocky seat down on the blooming meadows, and recognised the little man with the magic mirror in the remote distance, and determined to keep his eyes open the whole night. But when evening came, and he sought his couch, scarcely had he lain down by the side of his aged friend, when deep sleep fell on his eyelids, and left them only at the glance of the morning sun. Haste and timidity always prevented him from disturbing the old man in his sleep, and telling him once more the fervent wishes of his heart; and so every morning he bore his unfulfilled desires up with him to the mountain. Thus summer passed, and when one morning the first rough breath of autumn chilled the boy's brow, there was a rustling behind the rock on which he sat, and the old man, who had been his companion for so many months, stood before him. The wallet on his shoulder was full, and in his hand he held a staff as if he was ready to return to his distant home, for so indeed he was.
"I come, my son," said the little man with his old grave kindliness, "to thank thee for shelter and food, and to ask thee if thou hast any wish which I can gratify."
Hans shouted with joy; but the old man raised his finger gravely—he seemed to read into the boy's very soul.
"Neglect not sacred duties for the sake of idle curiosity," said he in a tone of warning, and the boy blushed and was silent. Then Hans thought of his good mother down in the valley, whose cottage he passed every morning and evening, and found the poor woman always at the window waiting to whisper a loving word, a motherly blessing to her only child. But this morning her eyes had been dim with trouble, and when he asked what was wrong she had answered with a sigh—
"Nothing, my good child, that thou canst alter; I am only thinking of the approach of winter, and how the cold wind will whistle through my battered cottage, and how I have no warm clothing to protect me from the cold."
All this flashed like lightning through the boy's mind; tremblingly he clasped his hands, and a prayer for help fell from his lips.
"That is right, my son," said the old man kindly, handing the boy a little coin. "Despise this not for its mean appearance, and never use it foolishly; and when I return next year, let me find thy hand as open and thy heart as pure as I have found them now. Farewell."
He nodded kindly to the boy, took the cloak from his shoulder, spread it on the rock, and placed himself on it, staff in hand, and with the burden on his shoulders. Immediately the mantle rose, and hovered before the boy's astonished eyes, bearing the little man up into the air. The old man waved farewell from his airy height; then he pointed southwards with his staff, and swift as an arrow flew the magic mantle towards his far-off home. The boy watched the wonderful journey with devoutly folded hands. Like the beat of eagle's wings was the motion of the dark garment through the white clouds, and the little man kept his balance perfectly, he guiding his flight with the staff in his left hand, while the magic mirror in his right gleamed in the beams of the morning sun like the diadem of carbuncles on the head of the serpent queen. The last flash died away at last, and the boy sat once more alone on his rocky seat, dreamily gazing on the gold coin in his hand. It had evidently passed through many a hand before, for it needed a sharp eye to trace the impression on its surface; on one side the lion of San Marco stretched his royal limbs, and with raised head kept guard over Venice, the Queen of the Sea, whose foot the Adriatic kisses with its caressing waves, wedded to her anew each year by the Doge's ring. The other side bore the name of one of the rulers of that proud Republic. It was scarcely legible, and it had been long eclipsed by a younger glory.
The boy, indeed, had no key to the understanding of the image and inscription, but he felt confident the gift out of such a hand must bring blessing in spite of its mean appearance, and so he kept the coin carefully in his pocket. To-day he started joyfully at the tone of the evening bell, said his prayer with more than usual fervour, and hastened with winged feet after his thriving flock.
"Just look, dear mother, what I have brought you," he cried joyfully through the window of the cottage, showing the old man's gift. "Do not despise it," he begged earnestly, as he saw his mother's doubting smile; "he told me not to despise it, the kind, powerful man who gave it to me. Put it with your savings, and let us see what will happen." As he spoke, his eyes shone so brightly with joy and confidence that his good mother could not bear to vex him by her doubts; she promised to lay the gold piece in the drawer, and bade her boy good night with a loving smile.