“Good morning, sir,” answered Peter, trying to appear unconcerned, although he was trembling violently. “I am only on my way home.” “Peter Munk,” replied the Forest King, glaring at the unfortunate young man, “your way does not lie through this clump of trees.” “Well, not exactly,” said Peter, “but it is so hot to-day that I thought it would be cooler here beneath the pine-trees.” [Illustration: _Peter nearly bounded up against a huge giant._ (P. 229.)] “Don’t lie to me, Charcoal Peter,” thundered the giant, “or I will strike you to the earth with my pole. Do you suppose I did not see you begging from the little Glass-man?” Then in milder tones Dutch Michael went on. “It was a foolish thing to do, Peter, and it was lucky for you you could not remember the lines of the verse, for the little fellow is a terrible miser, and only gives grudgingly; moreover, whoever accepts money from him is never happy again his whole life long. You are a simpleton, Peter, and I am sorry for you from the bottom of my heart. To think that a fine handsome fellow like you should be nothing better than a charcoal burner! When other folks jingle fat ducats in their pockets you have only a few copper coins to show. It is a wretched life to lead.” “You are right there, it is a wretched life,” said Peter. “Well, well,” proceeded Dutch Michael, “I have helped many a poor fellow in distress and you would not be the first. Just say how many hundred florins you would like to have to begin with?” As he spoke he jingled the money in his enormous pockets and it sounded just as it had done in Peter’s dream. Peter’s heart beat fast with fear and he was hot and cold by turns, for Dutch Michael had not the appearance of one who gave money out of charity alone. He remembered the mysterious words of the old man regarding the men who had enriched themselves at the Forest King’s expense, and overcome with terror he cried out: “Many thanks, sir, for your kind offer, but I would rather have nothing to do with you,” and with that he took to his heels and ran for his life. But the terrible Michael was not to be shaken off. By taking huge strides he kept pace with Peter--“You will regret this,” he said, “mark my words you will regret it. Do not run so fast, yonder is the boundary of my domains and I can go no further.”