| There was once upon a time a miller, who had a beautiful | |
| daughter, and as she was grown up, he wished that she was | |
| provided for, and well married. He thought, if any good suitor | |
| comes and asks for her, I will give her to him. Not long | |
| afterwards, a suitor came, who appeared to be very rich, and as | |
| the miller had no fault to find with him, he promised his | |
| daughter to him. The maiden, however, did not like him quite | |
| so much as a girl should like the man to whom she is engaged, and | |
| had no confidence in him. Whenever she saw, or thought of him, | |
| she felt a secret horror. Once he said to her, you are my | |
| betrothed, and yet you have never once paid me a visit. The | |
| maiden replied, I know not where your house is. Then said the | |
| bridegroom, my house is out there in the dark forest. She | |
| tried to excuse herself | |
| and said she could not find the way there. The bridegroom said, | |
| next sunday you must come out there to me, I have already | |
| invited the guests, and I will strew ashes in order that you may | |
| find your way through the forest. When sunday came, and the | |
| maiden had to set out on her way, she became very uneasy, she | |
| herself knew not exactly why, and to mark her way she filled both | |
| her pockets full of peas and lentils. Ashes were strewn at the | |
| entrance of the forest, and these she followed, but at every step | |
| she threw a couple of peas on the ground. She walked almost the | |
| whole day until she reached the middle of the forest, where it | |
| was the darkest, and there stood a solitary house, which she did | |
| not like, for it looked so dark and dismal. She went inside it, | |
| but no one was within, and the most absolute stillness reigned. | |
| Suddenly a voice cried, | |
| turn back, turn back, young maiden dear, | |
| 'tis a murderer's house you enter here. | |
| The maiden looked up, and saw that the voice came from a bird, | |
| which was hanging in a cage on the wall. Again it cried, | |
| turn back, turn back, young maiden dear, | |
| 'tis a murderer's house you enter here. | |
| Then the young maiden went on farther from one room to another, | |
| and walked through the whole house, but it was entirely empty | |
| and not one human being was to be found. At last she came to the | |
| the cellar, and there sat an extremely aged woman, whose head | |
| shook constantly. Can you not tell me, said the maiden, if my | |
| betrothed lives here. | |
| Alas, poor child, replied the old woman, whither have you come. | |
| You are in a murderer's den. You think you are a bride soon to be | |
| married, but you will keep your wedding with death. Look, I | |
| have been forced to put a great kettle on there, with water in it, | |
| and when they have you in their power, they will cut you to | |
| pieces without mercy, will cook you, and eat you, for they are | |
| eaters of human flesh. If I do not have compassion on you, and | |
| save you, you are lost. | |
| Thereupon the old woman led her behind a great hogshead | |
| where she could not be seen. Be still as a mouse, said she, do | |
| not make a sound, or move, or all will be over with you. At | |
| night, when the robbers are asleep, we will escape, I have long | |
| waited for an opportunity. Hardly was this done, than the godless | |
| crew came home. They dragged with them another young girl. They | |
| were drunk, and paid no heed to her screams and lamentations. | |
| They gave her wine to drink, three glasses full, one glass of | |
| white wine, one glass of red, and a glass of yellow, and with | |
| this her heart burst in twain. Thereupon they tore off her | |
| delicate raiment, laid her on a table, cut her beautiful body | |
| in pieces and strewed salt thereon. The poor bride behind the | |
| cask trembled and shook, for she saw right well what fate the | |
| robbers had destined for her. One of them noticed a gold ring on | |
| the finger of the murdered girl, and as it would not come off at | |
| once, he took an axe and cut the finger off, but it sprang up in | |
| the air, away over the cask and fell straight into the bride's | |
| bosom. The robber took a candle and wanted to look for it, but | |
| could not find it. Then another of them said, have you | |
| looked behind the great hogshead. But the old woman cried, | |
| come and get something to eat, and leave off looking till the | |
| morning, the finger won't run away from you. | |
| Then the robbers said, the old woman is right, and gave up their | |
| search, and sat down to eat, and the old woman poured a | |
| sleeping-draught in their wine, so that they soon lay down | |
| in the cellar, and slept and snored. When the bride heard | |
| that, she came out from behind the hogshead, and had to step | |
| over the sleepers, for they lay in rows on the ground, and great | |
| was her terror lest she should waken one of them. But God | |
| helped her, and she got safely over. The old woman went up with | |
| her, opened the doors, and they hurried out of the murderer's den | |
| with all the speed in their power. The wind had blown away the | |
| strewn ashes, but the peas and lentils had sprouted and grown up, | |
| and showed them the way in the moonlight. They walked the whole | |
| night, until in the morning they arrived at the mill, and then the | |
| maiden told her father everything exactly as it had happened. | |
| When the day came for the wedding to be celebrated, the bridegroom | |
| appeared, and the miller had invited all his relations and | |
| friends. As they sat at table, each was bidden to relate | |
| something. The bride sat still, and said nothing. Then said the | |
| bridegroom to the bride, come, my darling, do you know nothing. | |
| Relate something to us like the rest. She replied, then I will | |
| relate a dream. I was walking alone through a wood, and at last | |
| I came to a house, in which no living soul was, but on the wall | |
| there was a bird in a cage which cried, | |
| turn back, turn back, young maiden dear, | |
| 'tis a murderer's house you enter here. | |
| And this it cried once more. My darling, I only dreamt this. | |
| Then I went through all the rooms, and they were all empty, and | |
| there was something so horrible about them. At last I went down | |
| into the cellar, and there sat a very very old woman, whose head | |
| shook. I asked her, does my bridegroom live in this house. She | |
| answered, alas poor child, you have got into a murderer's den, | |
| your bridegroom does live here, but he will hew you in pieces, | |
| and kill you, and then he will cook you, and eat you. My darling | |
| I only dreamt this. But the old woman hid me behind a great | |
| hogshead, and scarcely was I hidden, when the robbers came home, | |
| dragging a maiden with them, to whom they gave three kinds of | |
| wine to drink, white, red, and yellow, with which her heart broke | |
| in twain. My darling, I only dreamt this. Thereupon they pulled | |
| off her pretty clothes, and hewed her fair body in pieces on a | |
| table, and sprinkled them with salt. My darling, I only dreamt | |
| this. And one of the robbers saw that there was still a ring on | |
| her little finger, and as it was hard to draw off, he took an axe | |
| and cut it off, but the finger sprang up in the air, and sprang | |
| behind the great hogshead, and fell in my bosom. And there is the | |
| finger with the ring. And with these words she drew it forth, and | |
| showed it to those present. | |
| The robber, who had during this story become as pale as ashes, | |
| leapt up and wanted to escape, but the guests held him fast, and | |
| delivered him over to justice. Then he and his whole troop were | |
| executed for their infamous deeds. | |