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Yes, I was
there too," said the Wind. "'Leave it alone,' I sang down the chimney; 'leave it
alone, it will all end in smoke, air, coals, and ashes, and you will burn your
fingers.' But Waldemar Daa did not leave it alone, and all he possessed vanished
like smoke blown by me. The splendid black horses, where are they? What became
of the cows in the field, the old gold and silver vessels in cupboards and
chests, and even the house and home itself? It was easy to melt all these away
in the gold-making crucible, and yet obtain no gold.
And so it was. Empty
are the barns and store-rooms, the cellars and cupboards; the servants decreased
in number, and the mice multiplied. First one window became broken, and then
another, so that I could get in at other places besides the door. 'Where the
chimney smokes, the meal is being cooked,' says the proverb; but here a chimney
smoked that devoured all the meals for the sake of gold. I blew round the
courtyard," said the Wind, "like a watchman blowing his home, but no watchman
was there.
I twirled the weather-cock round on the summit of the tower,
and it creaked like the snoring of a warder, but no warder was there; nothing
but mice and rats. Poverty laid the table-cloth; poverty sat in the wardrobe and
in the larder. The door fell off its hinges, cracks and fissures made their
appearance everywhere; so that I could go in and out at pleasure, and that is
how I know all about it. Amid smoke and ashes, sorrow, and sleepless nights, the
hair and beard of the master of the house turned gray, and deep furrows showed
themselves around his temples; his skin turned pale and yellow, while his eyes
still looked eagerly for gold, the longed-for gold, and the result of his labor
was debt instead of gain.
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