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Updated: June 10, 2025
There is a truss of sweet hay in the loft where you may rest, and to-morrow morning I will be your guide." The king accepted the invitation and went to bed in the loft. Shortly after a son was born to the charcoal-burner's wife. But the king could not sleep.
Suddenly he thought that the troopers would return to seize him also. Away, away! anywhere away! a voice roared and buzzed in his ears, and he set out on a run towards the south, always towards the south. The boy had not eaten a mouthful, since the oatmeal porridge obtained at the charcoal-burner's, in the morning, but felt neither hunger nor thirst, and dashed on and on without heeding the way.
Away, away! anywhere away! a voice roared and buzzed in his ears, and he set out on a run towards the south, always towards the south. The boy had not eaten a mouthful, since the oatmeal porridge obtained at the charcoal-burner's, in the morning, but felt neither hunger nor thirst, and dashed on and on without heeding the way.
RAIMOND. Alas for us! how then can we escape? CHARCOAL-BURNER. Stay here till from the town my boy returns. He shall conduct you safe by secret paths. You need not fear-we know each hidden way. Put off your helmet and your coat-of-mail, They will not now protect you, but betray. CHARCOAL-BURNER. The maid seems very sad hush! who comes here? CHARCOAL-BURNER'S WIFE comes out of the hut with a bowl.
Reckoning time was not the charcoal-burner's strong point; and the empty hut, the dreary open window-casements in the mouldering wooden walls, the holes in the roof, through which a quantity of snow had drifted into the only room in the deserted house, indicated that no human being had sought shelter here for many a winter.
On the side of the river on which the road lay, the only path out over the mountain except the road itself was a charcoal-burner's track, dwindling at times to a footway known only to the mountain-folk, which a picket at the top could hold against an army. The position, well defended, was impregnable, and it was well defended.
The queen and courtiers thought it would be an agreeable surprise for the king to hear that a charming little princess had been born on the night he was away. But instead of being pleased he frowned, and calling one of his servants, said to him, "Go to the charcoal-burner's cottage in the forest, and give the man this purse in exchange for a new-born infant. On your way back drown the child.
Barefoot gazed for a minute at the charcoal-burner's black face, and then asked impatiently: "Where is my Damie?" The old man shook his head. Then Barefoot asked again with a stamp of her foot: "Is my Damie with you?" The old man unfolded his hands and spread them right and left, implying thereby that he was not there. "Who was it that sent to me?" asked Barefoot, still more impatiently.
The man in question told me he never saw our light at night from the other side of the pretty sheet of water that it did not "remind him of a charcoal-burner's hut in the heart of a wilderness." It would be of interest to ascertain why this needlessly unkind remark was made. Since there were at least one or two pleasant features in the landscape, why could he not call attention to them?
"What was the old woman like?" asked the King. From Plavacek's description the King knew it was the very same who, twenty years before, had foretold the marriage of the Princess with the charcoal-burner's son. After some moments' thought the King said: "What is done is done. But you will not become my son-in-law so easily. No, i' faith!
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