Just then a huge Man appeared. He was frightful to look at, old, and with a long white beard.
‘Oh, you miserable wight!’ he cried. ‘You shall soon learn what shuddering is, for you shall die.’
‘Not so fast,’ said the Youth. ‘If I am to die, I must be present.’
‘I will make short work of you,’ said the old monster.
‘Softly! softly! don’t you boast. I am as strong as you, and very likely much stronger.’
‘We shall see about that,’ said the Old Man. ‘If you are the stronger, I will let you go. Come; we will try.’
Then he led him through numberless dark passages to a smithy, took an axe, and with one blow struck one of the anvils into the earth.
‘I can better that,’ said the Youth, and went to the other anvil. The Old Man placed himself near to see, and his white beard hung over.
Then the Youth took the axe and split the anvil with one blow, catching in the Old Man’s beard at the same time.
‘Now, I have you fast,’ said the Youth, ‘and you will be the one to die.’
Then he seized an iron rod, and belaboured the Old Man with it, till he shrieked for mercy, and promised him great riches if he would stop.
Then the Youth pulled out the axe and released him, and the Old Man led him back into the castle, and showed him three chests of gold in a cellar.
‘One is for the poor,’ he said, ‘one for the King, and one for you.’
The clock struck twelve, and the ghost disappeared, leaving the Youth in the dark.
‘I must manage to get out somehow,’ he said, and groped about till he found his way back to his room, where he lay down by the fire and went to sleep.
Next morning the King came and said: ‘Now you must have learnt how to shudder.’
