Before Benedick had finished his story his throat felt parched, and Catrine ran for a glass of water to enable him to finish it. He then said, "Now I think I begin to feel hungry;" but poor Catrine had nothing in the house to offer him to eat except a little stale bread and salt. He then remembered the crust of bread and black-pudding which his kind friend the priest had given him on leaving prison, and he took them from his wallet, meaning to share them with Catrine for breakfast. But the black-pudding felt heavy-indeed, it felt more like a bag of solid iron or lead than a pudding. He cut it in two, and, to the great surprise of both, a very shower of gold fell from it to the ground. Catrine was at first frightened when she saw it, thinking it might, after all, be the Jew's money; but Benedick said to her very earnestly that she must not think anything of the kind, as he had never forgotten his good mother's lessons, and would rather die of hunger than steal a farthing from anybody. He then said, "I got it from the good priest when he let me out of prison. He must have known it was gold, and not a

black-pudding, and no doubt he meant it as a marriage-present for us." So they both thanked the good priest in their hearts, and felt very happy.

Benedick and Catrine were married soon after; and as they had now plenty of gold to enable Benedick to set up as a master tailor, they left their native village, and went to Prague, the capital of Bohemia. There they got a nice house and shop, and furnished them well. Before they were long in Prague, Benedick became known all through the city as an honest tailor, who always gave good cloth and did his work well. So he prospered, as every honest good workman does prosper in the end, and he and his wife Catrine lived long very happily together. They had many children, who all grew up and behaved well when they became men and women, because they never forgot the good lessons which their father and mother had taught them when they were children.

But I must now tell you what happened at Hirschberg after Benedick left the prison. Number Nip remained in Benedick's cell with Benedick's clothes on all night; and in

the morning, just about the time when Benedick was tap, tap, tapping at Catrine's window, a knock, knock, knocking was heard at the door of the prison cell. It was the good priest, who had come to say a few more kind words to poor Benedick, who, he thought, was still there, just before he died. The priest, of course, thought that Number Nip was really Benedick, and he was pleased when the pretended Benedick said to him, "I am quite innocent, and so I do not fear death."

The pretended Benedick was then taken away by the Mayor and his officers; and soon after the sun was up, the people of Hirschberg were talking to each other in the streets, and saying that they were glad that the rogue had been put to death for robbing the Jew, as it was not safe for honest people that such rogues should be allowed to live. But by mid-day a very wonderful thing was talked of by every one in the streets of Hirschberg. The Mayor had sent his officers to take down the body of the criminal, and bury it; but when the officers went to do as they were told, they found nothing hanging

from the gallows but a parcel of old clothes filled with straw. Some people said that the tailor was so light that the wind had blown him away; but others whispered to each other that Number Nip must have had something to do with the business, as he had lately came back to the Giant Mountains, and had been seen there by many travellers in all forms and shapes.

N

IV.

MAX THE FARMER.

UMBER NIP still lived amongst

the Giant Mountains, and was

always ranging through them. He was often seen walking along the footpaths in the form of a man or of a woman, or perched on the top of a rock like a raven or an eagle, or bounding from one side of a valley to another like a deer, or crouching in savage places amongst the rocks or woods like the Rysow, which was a terrible wild beast that was seen nowhere except among the Giant Mountains, and that only when Number Nip was there. Number Nip, too, was often heard or felt when he could not be seen. He might be heard like a gust of