When we asked him to spend the night here, he answered that he would
lodge with a relation in the next village, and went away."
The visitor was more and more lost in amazement, and, leaning his head
on one side in deep thought, confessed that he could make nothing of it.
As for the husband and wife, they felt quite out of countenance at
having thanked a man so warmly for favours of which he denied all
knowledge; and so the visitor took his leave and went home.
That night there appeared at the pillow of the master of the house a
woman of about one or two and thirty years of age, who said: "I am the
fox that lives at such-and-such a mountain. Last spring, when I was
taking out my cub to play, it was carried off by some boys, and only
saved by your goodness. The desire to requite this kindness pierced me
to the quick. At last, when calamity attacked your house, I thought I
might be of use to you. Your son's illness could not be cured without a
liver taken from a live fox, so to repay your kindness I killed my cub
and took out its liver; then its sire, disguising himself as a
messenger, brought it to your house."
And as she spoke, the fox shed tears; and the master of the house,
wishing to thank her, moved in bed, upon which his wife awoke and asked
him what was the matter; but he too, to her great astonishment, was
biting the pillow and weeping bitterly.
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