THE WILL-O-THE WISP IS IN THE TOWN, SAYS THE MOOR WOMAN [4]
"Here is what they call may-balm," replied the woman. "I have
not tried it myself. But I have not yet told you the 'more
important' thing you were to hear. THE WILL-O'-THE-WISP'S IN THE TOWN!
That's of much more consequence than poetry and stories. I ought,
indeed, to hold my tongue; but there must be a necessity- a fate- a
something that sticks in my throat, and that wants to come out. Take
care, you mortals!"
"I don't understand a word of all this!" cried the man.
"Be kind enough to seat yourself on that cupboard," she
retorted, "but take care you don't fall through and break the bottles-
you know what's inside of them. I must tell of the great event. It
occurred no longer ago than the day before yesterday. It did not
happen earlier. It has now three hundred and sixty-three days to run
about. I suppose you know how many days there are in a year?"
And this is what the Moor-woman told:
"There was a great commotion yesterday out here in the marsh!
There was a christening feast! A little Will-o'-the-Wisp was born
here- in fact, twelve of them were born all together; and they have
permission, if they choose to use it, to go abroad among men, and to
move about and command among them, just as if they were born
mortals. That was a great event in the marsh, and accordingly all
the Will-o'-the-Wisps, male and female, went dancing like little
lights across the moor. There are some of them of the dog species, but
those are not worth mentioning. I sat there on the cupboard, and had
all the twelve little new-born Will-o'-the-Wisps upon my lap. They
shone like glow-worms; they already began to hop, and increased in
size every moment, so that before a quarter of an hour had elapsed,
each of them looked just as large as his father or his uncle. Now,
it's an old-established regulation and favor, that when the moon
stands just as it did yesterday, and the wind blows just as it blew
then, it is allowed and accorded to all Will-o'-the-Wisps- that is, to
all those who are born at that minute of time- to become mortals,
and individually to exert their power for the space of one year.
"The Will-o'-the-Wisp may run about in the country and through the
world, if it is not afraid of falling into the sea, or of being
blown out by a heavy storm. It can enter into a person and speak for
him, and make all the movements it pleases. The Will-o'-the-Wisp may
take whatever form he likes, of man or woman, and can act in their
spirit and in their disguise in such a way that he can effect whatever
he wishes to do. But he must manage, in the course of the year, to
lead three hundred and sixty-five people into a bad way, and in a
grand style, too. To lead them away from the right and the truth;
and then he reaches the highest point. Such a Will-o'-the-Wisp can
attain to the honor of being a runner before the devil's state
coach; and then he'll wear clothes of fiery yellow, and breathe
forth flames out of his throat. That's enough to make a simple
Will-o'-the-Wisp smack his lips. But there's some danger in this,
and a great deal of work for a Will-o'-the-Wisp who aspires to play so
distinguished a part. If the eyes of the man are opened to what he is,
and if the man can then blow him away, it's all over with him, and
he must come back into the marsh; or if, before the year is up, the
Will-o'-the-Wisp is seized with a longing to see his family, and so
returns to it and gives the matter up, it is over with him likewise,
and he can no longer burn clear, and soon becomes extinguished, and
cannot be lit up again; and when the year has elapsed, and he has
not led three hundred and sixty-five people away from the truth and
from all that is grand and noble, he is condemned to be imprisoned
in decayed wood, and to lie glimmering there, without being able to
move; and that's the most terrible punishment that can be inflicted on
a lively Will-o'-the-Wisp.
"Now, all this I know, and all this I told to the twelve little
Will-o'-the-Wisps