‘Alas! sir,’ sighed Peter, ‘when I still carried about with me the cold stony heart, I never wept, my eyes were as dry as the ground in July; but now my old heart will almost break with what I have done. I have driven my debtors to misery, set the dogs on the sick and poor, and you yourself know how my whip fell upon her beautiful forehead.’
‘Peter, you were a great sinner,’ said the little man. ‘Money and idleness corrupted you, until your heart turned to stone, and no longer knew joy, sorrow, repentance, or compassion. But repentance reconciles; and if I only knew that you were truly sorry for your past life, it might yet be in my power to do something for you.’
‘I wish nothing more,’ replied Peter, dropping his head sorrowfully. ‘It is all over with me, I can no more rejoice in my lifetime; what shall I do thus alone in the world? My mother will never pardon me for what I have done to her, and I have perhaps brought her to the grave, monster that I am! Elizabeth, my wife, too,—rather strike me dead, Herr Schatzhauser, then my wretched life will end at once.’
‘Well,’ replied the little man, ‘if you wish nothing else, you can have it, so my axe is at hand.’ He quietly took his pipe from his mouth, knocked the ashes out, and put it into his pocket. Then rising slowly, he went behind the pines. But Peter sat down weeping in the grass; his life had no longer any value for him, and he patiently awaited the deadly blow. After a short time he heard gentle steps behind him, and thought, ‘Now he is coming.’
‘Look up once more, Peter Munk,’ cried the little man. He wiped the tears from his eyes and looked up, and beheld his mother, and Elizabeth his wife, who kindly gazed on him. Then he jumped up joyfully, saying, ‘You are not dead, then, Elizabeth, nor you, mother; and have you forgiven me?’
‘They will forgive you,’ said the Little Glass Man, ‘because you feel true repentance, and all shall be forgotten. Go home now, to your father’s hut, and be a charcoal-burner as before; if you are active and honest, you will do credit to your trade, and your neighbours will love and esteem you more than if you possessed ten tons of gold.’ Thus saying, the Little Glass Man left them. The three praised and blessed him, and went home.
The splendid house of wealthy Peter stood no longer; it was struck by lightning, and burnt to the ground, with all its treasures. But they were not far from his father’s hut, and thither they went, without caring much for their great loss. But what was their surprise when they reached the hut; it was changed into a handsome farmhouse, and all in it was simple, but good and cleanly.
‘This is the Little Glass Man’s doing,’ cried Peter.
‘How beautiful!’ said Frau Elizabeth; ‘and here I feel more at home than in the larger house, with many servants.’
Henceforth Peter Munk became an industrious and honest man. He was content with what he had, carried on his trade cheerfully, and thus it was that he became wealthy by his own energy, and respected and beloved in the whole forest. He no longer quarrelled with his wife, he honoured his mother, and relieved the poor who came to his door. When, after twelve months, Frau Elizabeth presented him with a beautiful little boy, Peter went to the Tannenbühl, and repeated the verse as before. But the Little Glass Man did not show himself.