She danced, and was obliged to go on dancing through the dark night.
The shoes bore her away over thorns and stumps till she was all torn and
bleeding; she danced away over the heath to a lonely little house. Here, she
knew, lived the executioner; and she tapped with her finger at the window
and said:
“Come out, come out! I cannot come in, for I must dance.”
And the executioner said: “I don’t suppose you know who I am. I strike
off the heads of the wicked, and I notice that my axe is tingling to do so.”
“Don’t cut off my head!” said Karen, “for then I could not repent of my
sin. But cut off my feet with the red shoes.”
And then she confessed all her sin, and the executioner struck off her feet
with the red shoes; but the shoes danced away with the little feet across the
field into the deep forest.
And he carved her a pair of wooden feet and some crutches, and taught
her a psalm which is always sung by sinners; she kissed the hand that
guided the axe, and went away over the heath.
“Now, I have suffered enough for the red shoes,” she said; “I will go to
church, so that people can see me.” And she went quickly up to the church-
door; but when she came there, the red shoes were dancing before her, and
she was frightened, and turned back.
During the whole week she was sad and wept many bitter tears, but when
Sunday came again she said: “Now I have suffered and striven enough. I
believe I am quite as good as many of those who sit in church and give
themselves airs.” And so she went boldly on; but she had not got farther
than the churchyard gate when she saw the red shoes dancing along before
her. Then she became terrified, and turned back and repented right heartily
of her sin.
She went to the parsonage, and begged that she might be taken into
service there. She would be industrious, she said, and do everything that she
could; she did not mind about the wages as long as she had a roof over her,
