“My good friends,” said he, “you have, without doubt, been relating wonderful things; nor have they, I well believe, lost anything of their marvels by savouring a little of the wine-cup. I could tell you, however, of an affair, which, without embellishment, will appear still more remarkable than any of the tales you have related; but the night is now far advanced, and I should not be able to finish it.”
All were silent, and such was the deep attention of the auditory, that you might have fancied the Bishop of Bamburg reading mass. When he paused, however, there were voices enough to be heard: “Father Martin, let us hear this adventure of thine; do not deprive us of such a pleasure on a holiday-night.” Some of the townsmen, too, who had been preparing to go, turned back, and besought the old man to relate his marvels. These solicitations at last induced Martin to yield, and he spoke as follows:—
“In my young days, I was a destitute orphan-boy, and had to beg my bread from door to door; there was no place I could call my home, and I wandered about with my bag from village to village. When I grew up to be a lad, I hired myself to a shepherd on the Harz Mountains, with whom I remained three years. One evening, in autumn, ten of our sheep were missing, on which I was sent off to search for them. Night came on without my finding them; and, being unacquainted with the place, and not knowing how to find my way home, I resolved at last to pass the night under a tree. Towards midnight the dog began to howl, and to crouch close to me: I awoke, and, looking up, I saw, by the clear moonlight, a huge figure standing opposite to me, like a tall man, with his body entirely covered with long, shaggy hair. He had a beard reaching to his middle, a garland upon his head, and an apron of oak-leaves, while, in his right hand, he held a fir-tree that had been torn up by the roots. The terrific apparition motioned with his hand that I should follow him: I stirred not from the spot, however, for fear, and stood trembling like an aspen-leaf. He thus exclaimed, in a hoarse growling voice: ‘Coward, take courage; I am the Treasure-keeper of the Harz. Come with me, and thou shalt find a treasure.’ Although my fear threw me into a cold perspiration, I at length roused myself, and, making a sign of the cross, replied, ‘Avaunt; I desire none of thy treasures!’ On this, the figure grinned horribly in my face, and said, ‘Fellow, thou rejectest thy good fortune! continue, then, a miserable wretch all thy days.’ He then turned away as if to depart; but, again approaching me, said, ‘Bethink thee well, thou foolish man; I will fill thy wallet, I will fill thy bag with a precious burden.’—‘It is written,’ I returned, ‘Thou shalt not covet: away from me; I will have no dealings with thee.’
“As the goblin saw that I was not to be enticed by him, he desisted from further importunity, only adding, ‘Thou wilt repent this;’ then looking frightfully at me, after a short pause,
