THERE was once a miller who had a beautiful daughter, and when she was
grown up he became anxious that she should be well married and taken
care of; so he thought,
"If a decent sort of man comes and asks her in marriage, I will give her
to him."
Soon after a suitor came forward who seemed very well to do, and as the
miller knew nothing to his disadvantage, he promised him his daughter.
But the girl did not seem to love him as a bride should love her
bridegroom; she had no confidence in him; as often as she saw him or
thought about him, she felt a chill at her heart. One day he said to
her,
"You are to be my bride, and yet you have never been to see me."
The girl answered,
"I do not know where your house is."
Then he said,
"My house is a long way in the wood."
She began to make excuses, and said she could not find the way to it;
but the bridegroom said,
"You must come and pay me a visit next Sunday; I have already invited
company, and I will strew ashes on the path through the wood, so that
you will be sure to find it."
When Sunday came, and the girl set out on her way, she felt very uneasy
without knowing exactly why; and she filled both pockets full of peas
and lentils. There were ashes strewed on the path through the wood,
but, nevertheless, at each step she cast to the right and left a few
peas on the ground. So she went on the whole day until she came to the
middle of the wood, where it was the darkest, and there stood a lonely
house, not pleasant in her eyes, for it was dismal and unhomelike. She
walked in, but there was no one there, and the greatest stillness
reigned. Suddenly she heard a voice cry,
"Turn back, turn back, thou pretty bride,
Within this house thou must not bide,
For here do evil things betide."
The girl glanced round, and perceived that the voice came from a bird
who was hanging in a cage by the wall. And again it cried,
"Turn back, turn back, thou pretty bride,
Within this house thou must not bide,
For here do evil things betide."
Then the pretty bride went on from one room into another through the
whole house, but it was quite empty, and no soul to be found in it.
At last she reached the cellar, and there sat a very old woman nodding
her head.
"Can you tell me," said the bride, "if my bridegroom lives here?"
"Oh, poor child," answered the old woman, "do you know what has happened
to you? You are in a place of cut-throats. You thought you were a bride,
and soon to be married, but death will be your spouse. Look here, I have
a great kettle of water to set on, and when once they have you in their
power they will cut you in pieces without mercy, cook you, and eat you,
for they are cannibals. Unless I have pity on you, and save you, all is
over with you!"
Then the old woman hid her behind a great cask, where she could not be
seen.
"Be as still as a mouse," said she; "do not move or go away, or else you
are lost. At night, when the robbers are asleep, we will escape. I have
been waiting a long time for an opportunity."
No sooner was it settled than the wicked gang entered the house. They
brought another young woman with them, dragging her along, and they
were drunk, and would not listen to her cries and groans. They gave her
wine to drink, three glasses full, one of white wine, one of red, and
one of yellow, and then they cut her in pieces. The poor bride all the
while shaking and trembling when she saw what a fate the robbers had
intended for her. One of them noticed on the little finger of their
victim a golden ring, and as he could not draw it off easily, he took an
axe and chopped it off, but the finger jumped away, and fell behind the
cask on the bride's lap. The robber took up a light to look for it, but
he could not find it. Then said one of the others,
"Have you looked behind the great cask?"
But the old woman cried,
"Come to supper, and leave off looking till to-morrow; the finger cannot
run away."
Then the robbers said the old woman was right, and they left off
searching, and sat down to eat, and the old woman dropped some sleeping
stuff into their wine, so that before long they stretched themselves on
the cellar floor, sleeping and snoring. When the bride heard that, she
came from behind the cask, and had to make her way among the sleepers
lying all about on the ground, and she felt very much afraid lest she
might awaken any of them. But by good luck she passed through, and the
old woman with her, and they opened the door, and they made all haste to
leave that house of murderers. The wind had carried away the ashes from
the path, but the peas and lentils had budded and sprung up, and the
moonshine upon them showed the way. And they went on through the night,
till in the morning they reached the mill. Then the girl related to her
father all that had happened to her.
When the wedding-day came, the friends and neighbours assembled, the
miller having invited them, and the bridegroom also appeared. When they
were all seated at table, each one had to tell a story. But the bride
sat still, and said nothing, till at last the bridegroom said to her,
"Now, sweetheart, do you know no story? Tell us something."
She answered,
"I will tell you my dream. I was going alone through a wood, and I came
at last to a house in which there was no living soul, but by the wall
was a bird in a cage, who cried,
'Turn back, turn back, thou pretty bride,
Within this house thou must not bide,
For evil things do here betide.'
"And then again it said it. Sweetheart, the dream is not ended. Then I
went through all the rooms, and they were all empty, and it was so
lonely and wretched. At last I went down into the cellar, and there sat
an old old woman, nodding her head. I asked her if my bridegroom lived
in that house, and she answered, 'Ah, poor child, you have come into a
place of cut-throats; your bridegroom does live here, but he will kill
you and cut you in pieces, and then cook and eat you.' Sweetheart, the
dream is not ended. But the old woman hid me behind a great cask, and no
sooner had she done so than the robbers came home, dragging with them a
young woman, and they gave her to drink wine thrice, white, red, and
yellow. Sweetheart, the dream is not yet ended. And then they killed
her, and cut her in pieces. Sweetheart, my dream is not yet ended. And
one of the robbers saw a gold ring on the finger of the young woman, and
as it was difficult to get off, he took an axe and chopped off the
finger, which jumped upwards, and then fell behind the great cask on my
lap. And here is the finger with the ring!"
At these words she drew it forth, and showed it to the company.
The robber, who during the story had grown deadly white, sprang up, and
would have escaped, but the folks held him fast, and delivered him up to
justice. And he and his whole gang were, for their evil deeds, condemned
and executed.