The old woman went out, but saw no one on the stairs, and cried again, “Where art thou?”

“Here in the kitchen, I am warming myself,” cried the second drop of blood. She went into the kitchen, but found no one.

Then she cried again, “Where art thou?”

“Ah, here in the bed, I am sleeping,” cried the third drop of blood. She went into the room to the bed. What did she see there? Her own child, whose head she had cut off, bathed in her blood. The witch fell into a passion, sprang to the window, and as she could look forth quite far into the world, she perceived her stepdaughter hurrying away with her sweetheart Roland.