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 stalk of rye? Go after them again and this time don’t let them fool you!”

In the meantime Raduz and Ludmila were hurrying on. Suddenly Ludmila said:

“I wonder why my left cheek burns? Look back, dear Raduz, and see if there is any one following us.”

Raduz turned and looked. “There’s nothing following us but a gray cloud in the sky.”

“A gray cloud? That’s the old man on the gray horse that rides on the clouds. But don’t be afraid. Only have ready a cunning answer.”

Ludmila struck her hat with the wand and changed it into a chapel. Herself she changed into a fly that attracted a host of other flies. She changed Raduz into a hermit. All the flies flew into the chapel and Raduz began preaching to them.

Suddenly the gray cloud descended on the chapel with a flurry of snow and such cold that the shingles of the roof crackled.

The old man alighted from the gray steed and entered the chapel.

“Hermit,” he said to Raduz, “have you seen two travelers go by here, a girl and a youth?”

“As long as I’ve been preaching here,” Raduz said, “I’ve had only flies for a congregation. But I do