"Good evening, Marusia! why aren't you merry?"

"How can I be merry? My father is dead!"

"Oh! poor thing!"

They all grieved for her. Even the Accursed One himself grieved; just as if it hadn't all been his own doing. By and by they began saying farewell and going home.

"Marusia," says he, "See me off."

She didn't want to.

"What are you thinking of, child?" insist the girls. "What are you afraid of? Go and see him off."

So she went to see him off. They pa.s.sed out into the street.

"Tell me, Marusia," says he, "Were you in the church?"

"No."

"Did you see what I was doing?"

"No."

"Very well! Tomorrow your mother will die."

He spoke and disappeared. Marusia returned home sadder than ever. The night went by; next morning, when she awoke, her mother lay dead! She cried all day long; but when the sun set, and it grew dark around, Marusia became afraid of being left alone; so she went to her companions.

"Why, whatever's the matter with you? you're clean out of countenance!" say the girls.

"How am I likely to be cheerful? Yesterday my father died, and today my mother."

"Poor thing! Poor unhappy girl!" they all exclaims sympathizingly.

Well, the time came to say goodbye. "See me off, Marusia," says the Fiend. So she went out to see him off.

"Tell me; were you in the church?"

"No."

"And saw what I was doing?"

"No."

"Very well! Tomorrow evening you will die yourself!"