The Little Glass-Man then instructed Peter in what he was to do, and gave him a small cross of clear crystal. "He can not harm you while you live, and he will let you go free if you hold this up before him and pray at the same time. And if you should get back your heart, then return to this place, where I shall be awaiting you." Peter Munk took the cross, impressed on his memory all the words he was to say, and went to Dutch Michel's ravine. He called him three times by name, and immediately the giant stood before him. "Have you killed your wife?" asked the giant, with a fiendish laugh. "I should have done it in your place, for she was giving away your wealth to the beggars. But you had better leave the country for a while, for an alarm will be given if she is not found. You will need money, and have probably come after it." "You have guessed rightly," said Peter, "and make it a large amount this time, for America is far away." Michel preceded Peter into the hut, where he opened a chest in which was piled a large amount of money, and took out whole rolls of gold. While he was counting them out on the table, Peter said: "You are a frivolous fellow, Michel, to cheat me into thinking that I had a stone in the breast and that you had my heart!" "And is that not so?" asked Michel, surprised. "Can you feel your heart? Is it not as cold as ice? Can you experience fear or sorrow, or can any thing cause you remorse?" "You have only made my heart stand still, but I have it just the same as ever in my breast, and Ezekiel, too, says that you have lied to us. You are not the man who can tear a heart from another's breast without his knowing it, and without endangering his life; you would have to be a sorcerer to do that." "But I assure you," cried Michel indignantly, "that you and Ezekiel, and all the rich people who have had dealings with me, have hearts as cold as your own, and I have their true hearts here in my chamber." "Why, how the lies slip over your tongue!" laughed Peter. "You may tell that to some body else. Do you suppose that I haven't seen dozens of just such imitations on my travels? The hearts in your chamber are fashioned from wax! You are a rich fellow, I admit, but no sorcerer." The giant, in a rage, flung open the chamber door. "Come in here, and read all these labels; and look! that glass there holds Peter Munk's heart. Do you see how it beats? Can one imitate that too in wax?" "Nevertheless, it is made of wax;" exclaimed Peter. "A real heart doesn't beat in that way; and besides, I still have my own in my breast. No indeed, you are not a sorcerer!"