A retelling of a Grimm story.
A certain miller had little by little fallen into poverty, and had nothing left but his mill and a large apple tree behind it. The mill itself was small and sad, and the miller was almost ill from eating apples so often; as such, it should surprise no one that he made this bargain one shining Sunday -
He was just coming back from the forest, arms loaded with wood for the fire, when a strangely dapper fellow offered to help him carry it. Taking in the man's strange appearance - so pale, with such black hair, and dressed very nicely to be offering to help carry wood - but grateful for the help, he handed over half of his burden and they walked back to the mill together.
"I have a proposal for you," the stranger said when they had placed their wood on the pile. His voice was strangely rich for such a thin man, but also soft. He continued, "Let us go inside to discuss it; we'll have some tea, and I will present my offer in full."
The miller was confused by everything the man had said or done so far, and could only think to sheepishly explain, "We can go inside, sir, but we have no tea."
The stranger smiled a funny kind of smile and produced a small box from within his coat, which he showed to contain tealeaves that smelled faintly of mint - like the rest of him. "Let us go inside," he repeated, and they did.
The miller and his guest sat at their tiny, rough table while the miller's wife put the kettle on and busied herself washing and peeling potatoes for supper just a few feet away. She was suspicious, and as wives will she was listening intently.
"As I said, you need not live your life toiling in poverty. You could be rich enough to live better than the king of Bavaria for only what stands behind your house."
And from within his coat, he produced a contract.
The miller's wife had an expression of profound alarm and seemed to be trying to speak, but couldn't make a sound. Of course, only the stranger noticed this, and when he smiled at her, her alarm turned into rage and panic, though she kept on cleaning the potatoes without saying a word.
The miller, meanwhile, was perusing the terms of the contract.
"What stands behind my house...strange that you'd be able to write this up so quickly. Regardless, the only thing behind my house is that old apple tree, and though it has been good to us over the years, for such rewards as this I won't be sad to part with it."
And he signed.
Suddenly his wife regained her powers of speech and movement, throwing herself across the table in a gesture too late made. "You thrice-damned fool! Your daughter was behind the house, gathering apples from the tree you thought you were selling!"
The miller cast his eyes about, not knowing what to do or think, and noticed that the man was nowhere to be seen. Looking back at the contract, he saw that it now read "I will be back to claim what's mine in three years' time. Until then, I bid you live comfortably and enjoy what you have."
He stood open-mouthed in confused disbelief, but when his daughter came in - looking so happy and content, carrying an apron full of apples - he began to weep.
~
His tears dried over the following days, and after two weeks of finding gold bullion and fine silks under chairs and in every corner of the pathetically small millhouse, he had reconciled himself to the idea. His wife took longer, but she was above all a practical woman. Neither of them had the heart to tell their daughter to whom they suspected she had been sold, and when she asked about him, they answered with nervous vagaries. The girl herself accepted her fate with grace, believing that she was to marry a man who was wealthy, generous, handsome and kind - after all, when her father spoke of him, he always stressed his good looks and sweet voice, then reminded her of the magnificent price she had fetched. Of course, it was impossible to forget, for they were now indeed rich enough to live better than the king of Bavaria.
No amount of wealth, however, could shake the daughter from her old habits. The family had a handful of servants, but the girl still insisted on doing the washing for the entire household. She was a very proper and pious girl and would brook no argument, responding to complaints that she should relax with a chiding, “Idle hands are the devil’s playthings”. Indeed, she was known about town to have a perfect Christian reputation, and to have a soul as pure and good as any angel Heaven might have to offer.
And for three years they all lived good lives - the father at peace with his decision, the mother trying not to think about it, and the girl oblivious.
He was just coming back from the forest, arms loaded with wood for the fire, when a strangely dapper fellow offered to help him carry it. Taking in the man's strange appearance - so pale, with such black hair, and dressed very nicely to be offering to help carry wood - but grateful for the help, he handed over half of his burden and they walked back to the mill together.
"I have a proposal for you," the stranger said when they had placed their wood on the pile. His voice was strangely rich for such a thin man, but also soft. He continued, "Let us go inside to discuss it; we'll have some tea, and I will present my offer in full."
The miller was confused by everything the man had said or done so far, and could only think to sheepishly explain, "We can go inside, sir, but we have no tea."
The stranger smiled a funny kind of smile and produced a small box from within his coat, which he showed to contain tealeaves that smelled faintly of mint - like the rest of him. "Let us go inside," he repeated, and they did.
The miller and his guest sat at their tiny, rough table while the miller's wife put the kettle on and busied herself washing and peeling potatoes for supper just a few feet away. She was suspicious, and as wives will she was listening intently.
"As I said, you need not live your life toiling in poverty. You could be rich enough to live better than the king of Bavaria for only what stands behind your house."
And from within his coat, he produced a contract.
The miller's wife had an expression of profound alarm and seemed to be trying to speak, but couldn't make a sound. Of course, only the stranger noticed this, and when he smiled at her, her alarm turned into rage and panic, though she kept on cleaning the potatoes without saying a word.
The miller, meanwhile, was perusing the terms of the contract.
"What stands behind my house...strange that you'd be able to write this up so quickly. Regardless, the only thing behind my house is that old apple tree, and though it has been good to us over the years, for such rewards as this I won't be sad to part with it."
And he signed.
Suddenly his wife regained her powers of speech and movement, throwing herself across the table in a gesture too late made. "You thrice-damned fool! Your daughter was behind the house, gathering apples from the tree you thought you were selling!"
The miller cast his eyes about, not knowing what to do or think, and noticed that the man was nowhere to be seen. Looking back at the contract, he saw that it now read "I will be back to claim what's mine in three years' time. Until then, I bid you live comfortably and enjoy what you have."
He stood open-mouthed in confused disbelief, but when his daughter came in - looking so happy and content, carrying an apron full of apples - he began to weep.
~
His tears dried over the following days, and after two weeks of finding gold bullion and fine silks under chairs and in every corner of the pathetically small millhouse, he had reconciled himself to the idea. His wife took longer, but she was above all a practical woman. Neither of them had the heart to tell their daughter to whom they suspected she had been sold, and when she asked about him, they answered with nervous vagaries. The girl herself accepted her fate with grace, believing that she was to marry a man who was wealthy, generous, handsome and kind - after all, when her father spoke of him, he always stressed his good looks and sweet voice, then reminded her of the magnificent price she had fetched. Of course, it was impossible to forget, for they were now indeed rich enough to live better than the king of Bavaria.
No amount of wealth, however, could shake the daughter from her old habits. The family had a handful of servants, but the girl still insisted on doing the washing for the entire household. She was a very proper and pious girl and would brook no argument, responding to complaints that she should relax with a chiding, “Idle hands are the devil’s playthings”. Indeed, she was known about town to have a perfect Christian reputation, and to have a soul as pure and good as any angel Heaven might have to offer.
And for three years they all lived good lives - the father at peace with his decision, the mother trying not to think about it, and the girl oblivious.