Part 8

"That is well," answered the master, and then he mounted a great black steed and rode away.

The lad stayed at home and cleaned and polished and ate and drank. "I wonder what can be in those cellars that my master does not want me to see!" thought the lad. "Not that I mean to look, but it does no harm to wonder about it."

Every hour the lad stayed there in the house alone he grew more curious about the cellars. At last he could bear it no longer. "I'll just take a wee peep into one of them," he said. "That can surely do no harm to any one."

So he opened the cellar door and went down a flight of stone steps into the first cellar. He looked all about him, and there was nothing at all there but a switch made of brier lying on a shelf behind the door. "That is not much for the Master to have made such a fuss about," said the lad. "I could see as much as that any day without coming into a cellar for it;" and he went upstairs again and shut the door behind him.

The next day the master came home, and the first thing he asked was, "Have you looked into any of the cellars?"

"Why should I do that?" asked the lad. "I have plenty to do upstairs without poking my nose in where it is not wanted."

"I will just see for myself whether or not you have looked," said the master.

He opened one of the doors and went down into the first cellar. When he came back his face was as black as thunder.

"You have disobeyed me and have gone into one of the cellars," said he. "Now you shall suffer for it!" He took up a cudgel and beat the lad until he was black and blue. "It's lucky for you you went only into the first cellar," said he. "Otherwise you would not have come off so lightly."

Then he sat down to supper.

As for the lad he sat and nursed his bruises and wished he had never heard tell of such a thing as a cellar.

Not long after the master said he was going on another journey. "I will be gone two weeks," said he, "and whatever you do, do not dare to look into any of the other cellars, or you will suffer for it."

"I have learned my lesson," said the lad. "You'll not find me doing such a thing again."

After that the master mounted his horse and rode away.

After he had gone the lad cleaned and polished and ate and drank, and then he began to wonder what was in the second cellar. "There must be something more than a stick to see," said he, "or my master would not be so particular about it." In the end he determined to look at what was in the second cellar, whatever it cost him. He opened the door and went down the stone steps that led to it and looked about, but all he saw was a shelf behind the door, and on it a stone and a water bottle.

"They are not much to see, and I wish I had not come," said the lad to himself. "I hope my master will not know about it;" and then he went upstairs and shut the door behind him.

Not long afterward his master came home. The first thing he asked was, "Have you been down in any of the cellars again?"

"How can you think such a thing!" cried the lad. "I have no wish for another beating."

"All the same, I will see for myself," said the master, and he went down into the second cellar. Then the lad was frightened, you may well believe.

When the Master came back his face was as red as fire. "You have disobeyed me again," cried he. Then he seized a cudgel and beat the lad till he could hardly stand.

"This should teach you to obey," said he, "but I fear as long as you live you will not learn."

Not long after the Master was going away on a third journey, and this time he was to be away for three weeks. "And if you look in the third cellar," said he, "your life shall pay the forfeit." After that he rode away into the forest and out of sight.

Well, for two weeks the lad would not look into the third cellar, but at last his curiosity got the better of him. He opened the third door and went down into the third cellar. There in the middle of it was a brazen caldron set deep in the floor and full of something that seethed and bubbled. "I wonder what that is in the caldron," said the lad to himself, and he stuck his finger in. When he drew it out it was covered all over with gold. The lad scrubbed and scrubbed, but he could not get the gold off. Then he was terribly frightened. He took a rag and wound it about his finger and hoped his master would not notice it. He shut the door into the cellar and tried to forget about it.

The first thing the Master asked when he came home was, "Have you been down in the third cellar?"

"How can you think it?" asked the lad. "Two drubbings are enough for any one."

"What is the matter with your finger?" asked the Master.

"Oh, I cut it with the bread-knife."

The Master snatched the rag off, and there the lad's finger shone as though it were all of solid gold.