them comfort and support, ridiculed and scorned me, and drove me with insolence from them. Here dwells the rich cousin to whom we are indebted for our prosperity, and who lent me, on my word, the money which has increased so much in my hands. He appointed this day as the time when I was to return it with interest. Do you now know who our creditor is? The Prince of the Mountain, called Rübezahl!”
At these words his wife was violently affected, bent herself before a large cross, and the children trembled with terror and dread, lest their father should take them to Rübezahl. They had heard a great deal about him in the spinning-room, that he was a horrible giant, a destroyer of men, and so on. Veit related to them his whole adventure—how he had appeared at his call, in the form of a collier, and how he had acted towards him in the cave—praised his benevolence, with a grateful heart, and with such deep emotion, that the warm tears flowed down his sunburnt cheeks. “Wait here,” he continued, “whilst I go into the cave to finish my business. Fear nothing; I shall not remain long away; and if I can prevail on the Mountain Spirit, I will bring him to see you. Shun not to shake hands heartily with your benefactor, though his hands should be black or sooty; he will do you no harm, and will certainly rejoice in his own good deeds, and in our gratitude. Only take courage, he will give you golden apples and spice-nuts.”
Although the anxious wife endeavoured to dissuade him from his journey to the cave in the rock, and though the children, sobbing and weeping, strove to keep him back, by surrounding him, and taking hold of the folds of his coat, he nevertheless tore himself from them by force, went into the thicket, and soon reached the well-known rock. He drew forth the heavy bag of money, rattled the hard dollars, and called out as loudly as he could, “Spirit of the Mountain, come and take thine own!” But no Rübezahl appeared; nor, after the most diligent search, could Veit find the cave or the door by which he had formerly entered.
Thus the honest debtor was obliged to return back with his money-bag. As soon as his wife and children caught a glimpse of him, they hastened joyfully to meet him: he was out of humour and much distressed that he could not give the payment to the proper person, and sat down upon a bank to consider what was now to be done. His former venture again occurred to him. “I will call on the Spirit by his nickname. Should it displease him, he may cudgel me, and knock me as he has a mind; at all events, he will certainly hear the call.” So he shouted with all his might, “Rübezahl! Rübezahl!” His anxious wife entreated him to be silent, and tried to shut his mouth; but Veit would not be controlled, and only called out the more. Suddenly, the youngest child rushed to its mother, screaming, “Ah! the black man!” Quite pleased, Veit asked where. “There—he lurks
