Then Siegfrid clapped his hands. “That will be capital!” he cried. “I will go and pull the shoes off their feet at once, and then when he comes he will find them gone, and he will not be able to get more in time, so that he will shrink and vanish.”
The Hare shook its head. “You are going too fast,” it said. “The shoes cannot be drawn from the children’s feet as long as a single person in the village is wearing the boots and shoes made by the old man. So the first thing you must do will be to get all the shoes from everyone in the village, and put them all into a heap, and burn them all together.”
“But how can I do that?” asked Siegfrid. “The people will never give me their boots to burn, and if I tell them all you tell me they will not believe me.”
“Let us go and ask the Owl,” said the Hare. “He flies about at night when there is no one to see. Perhaps he would steal them for you and bring them here.” So Siegfrid and the Hare started off together to find the Owl. He was sitting on a bough half asleep, for it was yet light, so he had not quite waked up, and Siegfrid had to throw a bit of wood at him to wake him. He looked very cross when he opened his eyes and heard what they wanted, but he said—
“I will do it for you if you will pay me. If you will give me one of your eyes, I will bring you everyone’s boots from the village tonight, after they are all in bed.”
“But why do you want my eye?” said Siegfrid. “It can be of no use to you. You will not be able to see with my eye; and perhaps Handa will not love me if I have only one eye.”
“That’s not my business,” said the Owl. “I want your eye, and I will not get you the shoes without it. I am very blind, and I think I might see better with your eye than I do with my own.”
“Very well, then,” said Siegfrid, sighing. “Bring me the boots and shoes, and you shall have what you want.”
“Come back at twelve tonight to this same place, and you will find all the boots and shoes here,” croaked the Owl, and then he went to sleep again, and Siegfrid wandered about the forest alone, for the Hare soon scampered away, saying she would be back at night. But Siegfrid would not go home for fear he should be kept there, and not allowed to go back to the forest.
He cried at the thought of losing one of his bright brown eyes. “But I would give both my eyes for Handa,” he said to himself, “only then I should not be able to see her at all.”
The evening wore away, and when twelve—o’clock came, he went back to the place where he had left the Owl, and there, on a large bare spot under the trees, were heaped in a pile all the boots and shoes that the old man had sold since he came to the village.
Most were nearly worn out; some, indeed, were nothing more than old soles with little bits of leather hanging to them; but there they all were. There was the pretty pair of blue shoes that had first tempted Lisbeth, with the rosette torn off and worn quite white, and with great holes in the sides, and there also was the pair which Alys had bought like them.
On one side of the heap was the Owl, and the Hare sat beside him.
“There they all are,” said the Owl. “Now let me be paid.”
Siegfrid sighed, but he would not break his promise; so he took out his right eye and gave it to the Owl, who flew away with it, hooting in triumph.
“I hope Handa will know me,” he thought; and he felt almost inclined to cry, but he would not let the Hare see it, so he only said—
“Let us set fire to them at once, then.”
“First listen to me,” said the Hare, “for when the shoes begin to burn I shall run off. When they have quite burnt out, you will find a heap of black ashes, and amongst them you must search carefully, and you will find a pair of sandals that seem not the least burnt or singed. These you must put on, and then stamp hard upon the ground, and it will open, and in front of you, you will see a
