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"Well, what can we do? Go back, I suppose, Aie--aie! And I was

hoping to get some money!" cried the young man.

"We must give it up, of course, but what did she fix this time

for? The old witch fixed the time for me to come herself. It's

out of my way. And where the devil she can have got to, I can't

make out. She sits here from year's end to year's end, the old

hag; her legs are bad and yet here all of a sudden she is out for

a walk!"

"Hadn't we better ask the porter?"

"What?"

"Where she's gone and when she'll be back."

"Hm.... Damn it all!... We might ask.... But you know she never

does go anywhere."

And he once more tugged at the door-handle.

"Damn it all. There's nothing to be done, we must go!"

"Stay!" cried the young man suddenly. "Do you see how the door

shakes if you pull it?"

"Well?"

"That shows it's not locked, but fastened with the hook! Do you

hear how the hook clanks?"

"Well?"