castle now," said the wind. "I snowed them up, for they said it gave warmth. They had no firewood, for the forest was cut down where they should have got it. There was a biting frost. Even I had to keep rushing through the crannies and passages to keep myself lively. They stayed in bed to keep themselves warm, those noble ladies. Their father crept about under a fur rug. Nothing to bite, and nothing to burn! a lordly life indeed! Whew! whew! let it go! But this was what Waldemar Daa could not do.
"'After winter comes the spring,' said he; 'a good time will come after a time of need; but they make us wait their pleasure, wait! The castle is mortgaged, we are in extremities—and yet the gold will come—at Easter!'
"I heard him murmur to the spider's web 'You clever little weaver! You teach me to persevere! If your web is broken, you begin at the beginning again and complete it! Broken again—and cheerfully you begin it over again. That is what one must do and one will be rewarded!'
"It was Easter morning, the bells were ringing, and the sun was at play in the heavens. Waldemar Daa had watched through the night with his blood at fever pitch; boiling and cooling, mixing and distilling. I heard him sigh like a despairing soul, I heard him pray, and I felt that he held his breath. The lamp had gone out, but he never noticed it. I blew up the embers and they shone upon his ashen face, which took a tinge of colour from their light; his eyes started in their sockets; they grew larger and larger as if they would leap out.
"Look at the alchemist's glass! something twinkles in it, it is glowing, pure and heavy. He lifted it with a trembling hand and shouted with a trembling voice: 'Gold! gold!' He reeled, and I could easily have blown him over," said the wind, "but I only blew upon the embers, and followed him to the room where his daughters sat shivering. His coat was powdered with ash, as well as his beard and his matted hair. He drew himself up to his full height and held up his precious treasure,
