"Scream as loud as you like! The mill is deserted."
"How do you know it's deserted?" snapped the Jew, and he began to scream for the miller.
"Mr. Miller! Oi, Mr. Miller! Golden, silver, diamond Mr. Miller! Please, please come here for one little tiny second and say three words, three little tiny words! I'll make you a present of half the debt you owe me if you'll only come!"
"You'll make me a present of the whole debt!" said a voice in the miller's heart.
The Jew stopped screaming, his head sank forward on his breast, and he burst into a fit of bitter weeping.
Again some time passed. The moon had now set, and its last rays had died out of the sky. Everything in heaven and on earth seemed wrapped in the deepest slumber; not a sound could be heard except the Jew's low weeping and his exclamations of:
"Oh, my Sarah! Oh, my poor children! My poor little children!"
The devil felt a little rested, and sat up. Although it was dark, the miller could distinctly see a pair of horns like a young calf's outlined against the white mist that hung over the pond.
"He looks just like ours!" thought the miller, feeling as if he had swallowed something exceedingly cold.
