She was buried; two large tears rolled over the cheeks of theearnest man, and in the parso
nage it was empty and still, for itssun had set for ever. She had gone home.It was night.
A cold wind swept over the pastor's head; heopened his eyes, and it seemed to him as if th
e moon was shininginto his room. It was not so, however; there was a being standingbefore
his bed, and looking like the ghost of his deceased wife. Shefixed her eyes upon him with
such a kind and sad expression, just asif she wished to say something to him. The pastor r
aised himself inbed and stretched his arms towards her, saying, "Not even you can findeter
nal rest! You suffer, you best and most pious woman?"The dead woman nodded her head as if
to say "Yes," and put herhand on her breast."And can I not obtain rest in the grave for yo
u?""Yes," was the answer."And how?""Give me one hair- only one single hair- from the head
of thesinner for whom the fire shall never be extinguished, of the sinnerwhom God will con
demn to eternal punishment in hell.""Yes, one ought to be able to redeem you so easily, yo
u pure,pious woman," he said."Follow me," said the dead woman. "It is thus granted to us.
By myside you will be able to fly wherever your thoughts wish to go.Invisible to men, we s
hall penetrate into their most secretchambers; but with sure hand you must find out him wh
o is destinedto eternal torture, and before the cock crows he must be found!" Asquickly as
if carried by the winged thoughts they were in the greatcity, and from the walls the name
s of the deadly sins shone in flamingletters: pride, avarice, drunkenness, wantonness- in
short, thewhole seven-coloured bow of sin."Yes, therein, as I believed, as I knew it," sai
d the pastor, "areliving those who are abandoned to the eternal fire." And they werestandi
ng before the magnificently illuminated gate; the broad stepswere adorned with carpets and
flowers, and dance music was soundingthrough the festive halls. A footman dressed in silk
and velvetstood with a large silver-mounted rod near the entrance."Our ball can compare f
avourably with the king's," he said, andturned with contempt towards the gazing crowd in t
he street. What hethought was sufficiently expressed in his features and movements:"Misera
ble beggars, who are looking in, you are nothing incomparison to me.""Pride," said the dea
d woman; "do you see him?""The footman?" asked the pastor. "He is but a poor fool, and not
doomed to be tortured eternally by fire!""Only a fool!" It sounded through the whole house
of pride: theywere all fools there.Then they flew within the four naked walls of the mise
r. Lean as askeleton, trembling with cold, and hunger, the old man was clingingwith all hi
s thoughts to his money. They saw him jump up feverishlyfrom his miserable couch and take
a loose stone out of the wall; therelay gold coins in an old stocking. They saw him anxiou
sly feeling overan old ragged coat in which pieces of gold were sewn, and his clammyfinger
s trembled."He is ill! That is madness- a joyless madness- besieged by fearand dreadful dr
eams!"They quickly went away and came before the beds of thecriminals; these unfortunate p
eople slept side by side, in longrows. Like a ferocious animal, one of them rose out of hi
s sleep anduttered a horrible cry, and gave his comrade a violent dig in the ribswith his
pointed elbow, and this one turned round in his sleep: