Clement grew strangely troubled as the fisherman talked.  All that he had heard about the tiny folk in his childhood—­of their vindictiveness toward enemies and their benevolence toward friends—­came back to him.  It had never gone well with those who had attempted to hold one of them captive.

“You should have let him go at once, Ashbjoern,” said Clement.

“I came precious near being forced to set him free,” returned the fisherman.  “You may as well know, Clement, that the wild geese followed me all the way home, and they criss-crossed over the island the whole morning, honk-honking as if they wanted him back.  Not only they, but the entire population—­sea gulls, sea swallows, and many others who are not worth a shot of powder, alighted on the island and made an awful racket.  When I came out they fluttered about me until I had to turn back.  My wife begged me to let him go, but I had made up my mind that he should come here to Skansen, so I placed one of the children’s dolls in the window, hid the midget in the bottom of my bag, and started away.  The birds must have fancied that it was he who stood in the window, for they permitted me to leave without pursuing me.”

“Does it say anything?” asked Clement.

“Yes.  At first he tried to call to the birds, but I wouldn’t have it and put a gag in his mouth.”

“Oh, Ashbjoern!” protested Clement.  “How can you treat him so!  Don’t you see that he is something supernatural!”

“I don’t know what he is,” said Ashbjoern calmly.  “Let others consider that.  I’m satisfied if only I can get a good sum for him.  Now tell me, Clement, what you think the doctor at Skansen would give me.”

There was a long pause before Clement replied.  He felt very sorry for the poor little chap.  He actually imagined that his mother was standing beside him telling him that he must always be kind to the tiny folk.

“I have no idea what the doctor up there would care to give you, Ashbjoern,” he said finally.  “But if you will leave him with me, I’ll pay you twenty kroner for him.”

Ashbjoern stared at the fiddler in amazement when he heard him name so large a sum.  He thought that Clement believed the midget had some mysterious power and might be of service for him.  He was by no means certain that the doctor would think him such a great find or would offer to pay so high a sum for him; so he accepted Clement’s proffer.

The fiddler poked his purchase into one of his wide pockets, turned back to Skansen, and went into a moss-covered hut, where there were neither visitors nor guards.  He closed the door after him, took out the midget, who was still bound hand and foot and gagged, and laid him down gently on a bench.

“Now listen to what I say!” said Clement.  “I know of course that such as you do not like to be seen of men, but prefer to go about and busy yourselves in your own way.  Therefore I have decided to give you your liberty—­but only on condition that you will remain in this park until I permit you to leave.  If you agree to this, nod your head three times.”