took a light and began looking for it, but he could not find it. "Have you looked behind the large cask," said one of the others. But the old woman called out, "Come and eat your suppers, and let the thing be till to-morrow; the finger won't run away."
"The old woman is right," said the robbers, and they ceased looking for the finger and sat down. The old woman then mixed a sleeping draught with their wine, and before long they were all lying on the floor of the cellar, fast asleep and snoring. As soon as the girl was assured of this, she came from behind the cask. She was obliged to step over the bodies of the sleepers, who were lying close together, and every moment she was filled with renewed dread lest she should awaken them. But God helped her, so that she passed safely over them, and then she and the old woman went upstairs, opened the door, and hastened as fast as they could from the murderer's den. They found the ashes scattered by the wind, but the peas and lentils had sprouted, and grown sufficiently above the ground to guide them in the moonlight along the path. All night long they walked, and it was morning before they reached the mill. Then the girl told her father all that had happened.
The day came that had been fixed for the marriage. The bridegroom arrived and also a large company of guests, for the miller had taken care to invite all his friends and relations. As they sat at the feast, each guest in turn was asked to tell a tale; the bride sat still and did not say a word.
"And you, my love," said the bridegroom, turning to her, "is there no tale you know? Tell us something."
"I will tell you a dream, then," said the bride. "I went alone through a forest and came at last to a house;
