The little maid extinguished the lantern, seated herself on a tiny bench, and began to rock the cradle with her left hand, while with her right she put the pine-knot to rights.

I looked about me, and my heart grew sad within me; it is not cheerful to enter a peasant's hut by night.

The baby in the cradle was breathing heavily and rapidly.
"Is it possible that thou art alone here ?" I asked the little girl.
"Yes," she uttered, almost inaudibly.
"Art thou the forester's daughter ?" "Yes," she whispered.
The door creaked, and the forester stepped across the threshold, bending his head as he did so.

He picked up the lantern from the floor, went to the table, and ignited the wick.
"Probably you are not accustomed to a pine-knot," he said, as he shook his curls.
I looked at him.

Rarely has it been my fortune to behold such a fine, dashing fellow.