This tormented him in his dreams at night, and he was awoke every moment by a sweet voice crying to him, 'Peter, get a warmer heart!' And when he was awoke he quickly closed his eyes again, for the voice uttering this warning to him could be none other but that of his Elizabeth. The following day he went into the inn to divert his thoughts, and there met his friend, fat Hezekiel. He sat down by him and they commenced talking on various topics, of the fine weather, of war, of taxes, and lastly, also of death, and how such and such a person had died suddenly. Now Peter asked him what he thought about death, and how it would be after death. Hezekiel replied, 'That the body was buried, but that the soul went either up to heaven or down to hell.' 'Then the heart also is buried?' asked Peter, anxiously. 'To be sure that also is buried.' 'But supposing one has no longer a heart?' continued Peter. Hezekiel gave him a terrible look at these words. 'What do you mean by that? Do you wish to rally me? Think you I have no heart?' 'Oh, heart enough, as firm as stone,' replied Peter. Hezekiel looked in astonishment at him, glancing round at the same time to see whether they were overheard, and then said, 'Whence do you know that? Or does your own perhaps no longer beat within your breast?' 'It beats no longer, at least, not in my breast,' replied Peter Munk. 'But tell me, as you know what I mean, how will it be with our hearts?' 'Why does that concern you, my good fellow?' answered Hezekiel, laughing. 'Why, you have plenty here upon earth, and that is sufficient. Indeed, the comfort of our cold hearts is that no fear at such thoughts befalls us.' 'Very true, but still one cannot help thinking of it, and though I know no fear now, still I well remember how I was terrified at hell when yet an innocent little boy.' 'Well, it will not exactly go well with us,' said Hezekiel; 'I once asked a schoolmaster about it, who told me that the hearts are weighed after death to ascertain the weight of their sins. The light ones rise, the heavy sink, and methinks our stone hearts will weigh heavy enough.' 'Alas, true,' replied Peter; 'I often feel uncomfortable that my heart is so devoid of sympathy, and so indifferent when I think of such things.' So ended their conversation.