There once lived a miller who had a beautiful daughter. When she came of age, he wished for her to marry well. Soon, a wealthy gentleman came seeking her hand, and though the miller knew nothing against him, he gladly gave his blessing. But the daughter felt a strange chill whenever she saw or thought about her bridegroom. Something in his cold eyes made her heart uneasy, though she could not say why.
One day, the bridegroom said to her, 'You are to be my bride, yet you have never visited my home.' The girl hesitated, making excuses that she did not know the way through the dark forest. 'Come next Sunday,' he insisted with a smile that did not warm his eyes. 'I shall scatter ashes along the path so you cannot lose your way.' Though filled with dread, she agreed to go.
When Sunday arrived, the clever girl filled her pockets with dried peas and lentils before setting out. As she followed the ash-marked path into the forest, she scattered the little seeds to her left and right with every step. The trees grew darker and closer together, and the air became cold and still. She walked all day until she reached the heart of the forest.
There stood a lonely house, grim and unwelcoming beneath the shadowy trees. The girl entered cautiously, but found it silent and empty. Suddenly, a bird in a cage upon the wall cried out: 'Turn back, turn back, thou pretty bride! Within this house thou must not bide, for here do evil things betide!' The warning echoed through the hollow rooms.
The bride searched through every room but found no living soul until she descended into the cellar. There sat a very old woman, nodding her white head. 'Can you tell me if my bridegroom lives here?' asked the girl. The old woman looked up with sorrowful eyes. 'Oh, poor child, you have stumbled into a den of murderers! Your bridegroom means to kill you.'
'Quick, hide behind this great cask,' whispered the old woman urgently. 'Be still as a mouse and do not stir. When the robbers sleep tonight, we shall escape together. I have waited long for this chance.' The trembling bride crouched in the shadows, her heart pounding as she waited in the darkness.
Soon the wicked gang burst through the door, dragging a terrified young maiden with them. The poor bride watched in horror from her hiding place as the robbers celebrated their evil deed. She pressed her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out, knowing that one sound would mean her death.
One robber noticed a golden ring on the victim's finger. Unable to remove it, he raised his axe and chopped off the finger. It flew through the air and landed right in the bride's lap! She nearly screamed but caught herself just in time. The robber searched with a candle but could not find it, and soon the old woman called them to supper.
The clever old woman slipped sleeping powder into their wine. Before long, every robber lay snoring on the cellar floor. 'Now!' she whispered. The bride crept carefully among the sleeping murderers, her heart in her throat. Step by careful step, they reached the door and fled into the night.
The wind had blown away the ashes, but the peas and lentils had sprouted in the moonlight, showing them the way home! Following the trail of tiny green shoots glowing silver in the moonbeams, the two women hurried through the forest. By dawn, they reached the mill, where the daughter told her father everything.
When the wedding day arrived, guests gathered and the bridegroom appeared, charming as ever. During the feast, each guest told a story. When the bride's turn came, she said, 'I shall tell you a dream I had.' And she began to recount everything: the dark house, the warning bird, the old woman's words, the terrible scene she had witnessed.
'And in my dream,' she continued, 'a finger with a golden ring fell into my lap.' The bridegroom had turned deathly pale. 'Here is that finger!' she cried, holding it up for all to see. The villain leaped up to escape, but the guests seized him. He and his entire gang were brought to justice, and the brave miller's daughter was free at last.
