The godson went to the river, filled his mouth with water and watered one piece of charcoal; then he went again and again, until he had watered the other two. The godson was tired and hungry. He went to the hermit’s cell to ask for some food. When he opened the door there was the hermit lying dead on a bench. The godson looked about the cell and found some rusks, which he ate; then he discovered a spade and went out to dig a grave for the old man. By night he carried water to water the pieces of charcoal, and by day he dug the grave. He had no sooner finished it and was about to bury the hermit, when some people came from the village to bring the hermit food. When the people heard that the hermit was dead they asked the godson to take his place. They buried the hermit, left the bread with the godson and went away, promising to bring him more food later on. And the godson fell into the hermit’s place and he lived and nourished himself with the food people brought him, and went on watering the pieces of charcoal as the hermit had bidden him do. The godson lived thus for a year and many people began to visit him. He grew famous throughout the country as a saint who saved his soul by carrying water in his mouth from beneath a hill, and watering stumps of charcoal. People flocked to him. Rich merchants brought him gifts, but the godson used nothing but what he needed, giving the rest to the poor. And the godson began to live thus--for half the day he carried water in his mouth to water the pieces of charcoal, for the other half he rested and received people. And the godson came to think that he had been told to live thus and that in this way he would atone for his sins. The godson lived thus for another year, not missing a single day for watering the charcoal, yet not a single piece had begun to sprout. One day when he was sitting in his cell he heard a horseman gallop past, singing to himself. The hermit came out to see what manner of man he was. And he saw that the man was young and strong and was dressed in fine clothes and seated on a spirited horse. The godson stopped him and asked him who he was and where he was going. The man pulled up. “I am a robber,” he said; “I roam the highway and kill whomever I have a mind to. The more men I kill the merrier are my songs.” The godson was horrified and thought, “How can one destroy evil in such a man? It is well to talk to the people who come to me; they repent of their own accord, but this man glories in the evil he does.” The godson said nothing to him and turned away, thinking, “What shall I do? If this robber makes up his mind to stay here, he will scare away my people and no one will come to see me. They will lose some good thereby, and I shall have nothing to live on.”