Peter looked round and saw Dutch Michael standing behind him. In his terror he let fall his money, but Fat Ezekiel saw nothing, but only asked Peter to lend him some money that they might go on playing. Half in a dream Peter thrust his hand into his pocket. It was empty, he tried the other--empty too. He turned them inside out, but not the smallest copper coin was to be seen, and now he remembered for the first time what his wish had been--that he might always have as much money as Fat Ezekiel--well, Ezekiel had none and so Peter’s had all disappeared like smoke. At first the innkeeper and Fat Ezekiel would not believe that he had no money, but when they saw that his pockets really were empty they were very angry, for they declared he must be a sorcerer and that he had wished his money and his winnings away at home so that he might not have to lend any. Peter attempted to defend himself, but appearances were against him. Ezekiel declared that the following day he would publish the news all over the Black Forest, and the innkeeper said he should go and denounce Peter as a sorcerer to the magistrate and that he would most assuredly be burnt. Then they flew at him, beat him soundly, tore his jacket off his back, and threw him out of the door of the inn. No star shone in the sky as Peter crept miserably home, but in spite of that he recognised a dark figure that walked beside him and kept pace with him. At length the figure spoke--“Well, Peter Munk, there is an end to you and your splendour. I could have told you exactly what would happen when you would not listen to me but hurried off to that stupid Glass Dwarf. Now see what you have come to through despising my advice. But try me once, for I am really sorry for your pitiful fate. No one has ever repented of coming to me for assistance, and if you are not afraid come to me to-morrow to the clump of pine-trees; I will be there if you call me.” But Peter shuddered and ran home as fast as his legs could carry him. PART II. When Peter entered his glass factory on the Monday morning he found the bailiffs already in possession. He was asked if he had any money with which he could settle his debts, and on his replying that he had not, his factory, house, stables, horse, carriage and the stock in hand were all seized. “Well,” said he, “since the little man has done nothing for me I will see what the big one will do.” And he set off running as fast as though the police were at his heels. He reached the clump of black pines, and as he passed the spot where he had seen the little Glass-man it seemed as though an invisible hand caught him and held him back. But he tore himself loose and dashed across the boundary line into Dutch Michael’s domain. Breathlessly he called: “Dutch Michael, Dutch Michael,” and immediately the gigantic figure of the raftsman stood before him.