I.   RING MAGIC.

KELCH was a handsome young man who lived in a little village which was near a great black forest, and he thought himself the most miserable being in the world. It was very curious that he should do so, for he was young, good-looking, and healthy, but he did not value any of these gifts, because he was in love with Filina, the prettiest girl in the whole country, and her father wanted her to marry a very rich man called Hocky, for whom she did not in the least care.

Now Filina was also in love with Kelch, and hated the idea of marrying ugly old Hocky, but, as he was rich and Kelch poor, her father would not let her wed as she wished. Kelch had a little cottage near the wood, which had been left to him by his mother, and earned his livelihood by cutting firewood, which, to be sure, was not a very aristocratic occupation. Still, in those days people did not care much for rank, and pretty Filina loved Kelch tenderly in spite of his humble calling. She nearly wept her eyes out when her father said she was to become the bride of Hocky. He was an avaricious old dwarf who only cared for gold, and wanted to marry Filina, not for her beauty, but because he knew she would some day be left money when her father died. When Kelch heard of the proposed marriage, he went to Filina’s father and told of his love, but the cruel parent laughed at his request.

“You marry my daughter!” he said mockingly. “What an idea!—you can give her no money.”

“But I can give her love,” said Kelch sturdily, “and that is much better than money.”

“I don’t think so,” retorted Filina’s father. “Any one can make love, but few can make money, so go back to your wood-cutting, and don’t come to me with such silly requests.”

“Is there no chance for me?” cried Kelch in despair.

“Yes—one,” answered the old man mockingly. “Become as rich as Hocky, and you shall marry my daughter.”

Poor Kelch went away with tears in his eyes, because old Hocky was known to be very wealthy, and how could an unknown youth hope to become rich when he had no one to help him? It was no good feeling sad, however, for sorrow would not help him to win Filina, so Kelch determined to go to the castle of the Wicked Baron who lived in the centre of the forest, and ask him to make him a present of some gold.

The Wicked Baron was a famous miser, and his castle was said to be full of gold, so, in spite of his bad character, Kelch thought he would not refuse to give him a little out of his plenty. So early one morning, after saying good-bye to Filina, he went into the forest to search for the Wicked Baron’s castle, and ask its owner to give him some gold.

Kelch wandered deeper and deeper into the forest, which became wilder and more savage as he advanced, but still he did not come across the looked-for castle. Night was coming on, and the wood was full of sombre shadows, while behind the trees flushed the fierce red light of the setting sun. It was a faery forest, and all the ground was covered with soft grass, and strange flowers which only bloomed at night-time; while overhead the nightingales sang most deliciously in the trees, and at intervals the wise owls hooted in the most unexpected manner.

As it was now quite dark, Kelch thought he would sleep under a great oak tree until the morning, and then once more set out upon his travels; so he ate some food he had brought with him, drank from a stream which sparkled by, and after saying his prayers,—for he was a good lad,—rested his head upon his knapsack and went fast asleep.

In the middle of the night, however, he woke suddenly under the influence of enchantment, for the whole of the forest was flooded with the silver moonlight, and on every side the faeries were holding their revels. Having drank of the waters of the brook, Kelch had come under the charm of faery power, and, to his surprise, was able to understand the talk of two elves who sat chattering to one another on the broad white cup of a lily.

“Who is this youth lying asleep?” asked the first elf, never thinking for a moment Kelch was awake, and only kept his eyes closed in order to hear what they had to say.

“He is called Kelch,” said the other elf, “and loves Filina, who is to marry old Hocky. He is now searching for the castle of the Wicked Baron, to ask for gold.”

“He’ll never find it,” observed the first faery, “unless he asks the Owl who lives in the oak tree under which he sleeps.”

“Then I will ask the Owl,” cried Kelch, sitting up, whereupon both faeries flew away in great alarm, much to his regret, as he wanted to make inquiries about the Owl.

He looked up at the tree, but could see nothing save the branches interlaced against the clear sky, and now and then a gleam of moonlight on the rough bark of the trunk. As Kelch had often heard that song was the only way to invoke faeries, he thought he would try the same means with the owl. So, springing to his feet, he began to sing, making up the words as he went along:

“Fairy Owl,

Clever fowl,

Please tell me

Where to see

The castle old,

Where Baron bold

Hoards up his gold.”

The words were not very good, but they told exactly what he wanted to know, and the Owl put her head out of a hole in the tree with a wild hoot, her eyes glowing red like burning coals.

“Go away, boy,” croaked the Owl angrily, “and do not disturb me in my grief. The Baron is dead, and I am in mourning for him.”

“The Baron dead!” cried Kelch in dismay. “Oh dear! then I won’t be able to get any gold. I don’t know, though—he can’t have taken his gold with him, so it must be there still. Owl!—Owl!—where’s the castle?”

The Owl hooted crossly, and then replied:

“Follow the brook

To open ground,

Then upward look,

And all around.

Jump water cold,

Then you will see

The castle old

Frown o’er the lea.”

The Owl drew back her head into the hole, and Kelch, taking her advice, followed the windings of the brook through the forest. There never was such a winding brook; first it twisted one way, then another, curled round trees, hid under rocks, fell down precipices in sheets of foam, and even flowed up a gentle incline. At last it began to grow straighter, and finally led Kelch into a wide open glade girdled with trees, but flowed directly in front of him, so that, in order to reach the glade, he would have to cross it.

“I don’t see any castle,” said Kelch to himself; “but then the Owl said, ‘Jump water cold,’ so if I cross this brook, which evidently renders the castle invisible, I will see it.”

As soon as he made up his mind to do this, he jumped over, and, on landing safely on the opposite bank, saw before him a great castle, with many towers all overgrown with ivy. So Kelch was right, the brook rendered the castle invisible, and unless he had jumped across it he would have seen nothing.

Kelch saw no lights in the castle, but, being a brave lad, he did not mind that, so marched boldly forward, climbed up a broken-down flight of steps leading to the front door, and, finding it open, entered. It was all dark inside, but Kelch had a bit of candle in his pocket, and, having lighted it, he set out to explore the castle, which was evidently quite deserted.

He wandered through room after room, all of which were quite empty, and inhabited by nothing but spiders, there not even being a rat. The moonlight streamed into the lonely halls through the painted glass of the windows, and filled them with strange shadows, but Kelch, knowing that he had done no one harm, was not afraid, and began singing to keep up his spirits:

“Thro’ lonely halls,

Wander, wander;

The moonlight falls

Yonder, yonder;

Tho’ dark appals,

Ponder, ponder.

Sad thoughts arise,

Weary, weary;

The night-wind sighs,

Dreary, dreary;

I hear strange cries,

Eerie, eerie.”

And indeed he did hear strange cries, sometimes like the roaring of wild beasts, then shrill sounds like the piping of winds upon sandy beaches, sometimes a cry of pain, and at time as burst of wild laughter. In order to protect himself, he drew his hunting-knife from his girdle, and went in the direction from whence the noises proceeded. When he did this, he found himself descending the stairs, and thought he must now be going to the cellars where the Wicked Baron kept his gold. The noises grew louder and louder as he descended, and at last all dwindled down to one harsh voice, which was singing this song:

“The Goblin Golden

Here you will find;

From ages olden

I’ve ruled mankind.

Another victim

I now will bind;

When I have tricked him

He’ll sorrow find.”

Kelch had by this time come to the end of a long dark passage, and was stopped by an iron door, under which gleamed a line of bright yellow light. He knocked, then suddenly with a loud crash the door flew open, and he saw before him a circular room illuminated with the bright yellow light. In the centre was a great pile of gold coins, on the top of which was seated a funny little man.

Such a queer figure he was, with a great fat body like a bag of money tied round the top with a golden cord, so that it made a ruffle for his neck, and above this was an enormous head with two fierce yellow eyes, a great beak of a nose, and a wide mouth, which when open showed long golden teeth. He had short little legs, with long peaked shoes of gold, and in his hands held a golden sceptre, while on top of his great head of yellow hair was a huge crown of heavy gold set with flashing diamonds. He had a yellow skin and yellow clothes,—in fact, he was yellow all over, and he sat cross-legged on the top of the heap of gold, grinning and nodding at Kelch till the diamonds in his crown glittered like great stars.

“I am the Golden Goblin,” he cried in a harsh voice, when he saw the lad, “and I know what you come for, so take as much gold as you like and go.”

“But where is the Wicked Baron?” asked Kelch.

“He has gone to my kingdom below,” said the Goblin, grinning; “he was my servant, and had as much gold as he wanted, on condition he came with me when he died, so he did die last year, and I’ve got him safe in my kingdom.”

“I AM THE GOLDEN GOBLIN,” HE CRIED IN A HARSH VOICE

Kelch’s hair arose on end at this, so wicked did the Goblin look, but as he had done no harm, he was not afraid.

“Can I take some gold?” he asked; “I want some in order to marry Filina.”

“You can take as much gold as you like,” replied the Goblin graciously, “on condition that you put this ring on Filina’s finger as a present from me.”

“Oh, I don’t mind that,” said Kelch, taking the gold ring held out to him by the Goblin. “Thank you kindly; it will do for a wedding ring.”

“Exactly,” cried the Goblin, nodding his ugly head; “it will do for a wedding ring. Now, fill your pockets with this gold, and it will do for Filina’s dowry.”

“But then this gold belongs to the Baron.”

“No, it doesn’t; he’s dead, and it belongs to whomsoever I choose to give it,” roared the little man, kicking several pieces across the floor. “All the gold in the world is mine—take as much as you like, and don’t say I’m not kind.”

You may be sure Kelch did not require a second invitation, and filled all his pockets with money, so that he bulged out all over in the most grotesque manner. While he did so, the Golden Goblin jumped off the heap and danced about the room, singing the queerest songs Kelch had ever heard. When his pockets were quite full, he thanked the Goblin and said good-bye.

“Good-bye,” cried the Goblin, as Kelch went to the door, “till I see you again.”

“You’ll never see me again,” returned Kelch, rather annoyed.

“Oh yes, I will,” grinned the yellow man, jumping up again on the golden heap. “Don’t forget to marry Filina with my ring.”

“No, I won’t forget,” said Kelch; and then the Goblin burst out laughing, while all the gold upon which he was seated commenced to whirl round, until Kelch could not see the little man, but only a gleaming column of gold, which was at first as high as the roof, then sank lower and lower until it disappeared through the floor. Then the yellow light commenced to fade, so Kelch, seeing there was no time to be lost, left the chamber and hurried up-stairs as hard as ever he could.

Feeling very delighted that he had attained his object, he left the castle of the Wicked Baron and jumped across the brook. When he did so, the magic castle disappeared, and Kelch, with the gold in his pockets and the ring upon his finger, followed the windings of the brook until he arrived back at the oak tree.

“Oh, you’ve got back!” cried the Owl, putting out her head.

“Yes; and I’ve got the gold, thank you,” said Kelch cheerfully.

“Much good may it do you,” hooted the Owl, and withdrew her head again.

Kelch thought the Owl was very rude, but as she had done him a great service, he said nothing, but walked through the forest, and on arriving at the outskirts went straight home just as the red dawn was breaking in the east.

During the day he went to Filina’s father and gave him all the gold he had obtained from the castle of the Wicked Baron, upon which the old man was so delighted that he at once gave his consent to the marriage, much to the disgust of Hocky, who was very envious of Kelch’s good fortune.

In the evening Filina’s father gave a dance on the village green in honour of his daughter’s marriage, and while the merrymaking was going on, Kelch took the opportunity to slip the Goblin’s ring on Filina’s finger. No sooner had he done so, than, to the dismay of every one, the poor girl vanished out of their sight, and Kelch was in despair.

Filina’s father was very angry at the disappearance of his daughter, and his rage was further increased by Hocky, who said that Kelch must have promised to give Filina to the Goblin in exchange for the gold. All the villagers believed this malicious story, and drove Kelch from his home with sticks and stones. So the poor lad found himself at last seated once more under the oak tree, having lost Filina, his gold, his home, and his good name.