ed on the morrow. That was indeed no very pleasant news for the soldier, and more unfortunate than all, he had left his tinder-box at the hotel.
When day broke he could see out of his little prison-windows how the people were streaming from the town to see the execution; he heard the drums beat, and saw the soldiers marching to the spot where the scaffold was erected. Among the crowd was a little apprentice, who was in such a hurry that he lost one of his shoes just as he was running by the prison.
“Hallo, my little man!” cried the soldier to the boy; “you need not be in such a hurry; for nothing can be done till I come! If you will run to the inn, at the sign of the Golden Angel, and fetch me a tinder-box that I left behind in my room, I’ll give you a groat for your trouble;—but you must make all the haste you can!”
The boy wanted very much to get the groat; so off he ran to the Golden Angel, found the tinder-box as described in the soldier’s room, and brought it to him to his
