There was once upon a time a miller, who had a beautiful daughter, by the name of Simle. When Simle was grown up, he wished that she was provided for, and well married.

He thought, “If any good suitor comes and asks for her, I will give her to him.”

Not long afterwards, a suitor came, a man by the name of Binden. He appeared to be very rich, and as the miller had no fault to find with him, he promised his daughter to him.

Simle, however, did not like Binden quite so much as a girl should like the man to whom she is engaged, and had no confidence in him. Whenever she saw, or thought of him, she felt a secret horror.

Once Binden said to her, “You are my betrothed, and yet you have never once paid me a visit.”

Simle replied, “I don't know where your house is.” Binden said, “My house is out there in the dark forest.”

Simle tried to excuse herself and said, “I could never find my way there.” Binden replied, “In nine days' time you must come out there to me. I have already invited the guests, and I will strew ashes in order that you may find your way through the forest.” When the ninth day came, and Simle had to set out on her way, she became very uneasy. She couldn't say exactly why, and to mark her way she filled both her pockets full of peas and lentils.

Ashes were strewn at the entrance of the forest, and these she followed, but at every step she threw a couple of peas on the ground. She walked almost the whole day until she reached the middle of the forest, where it was darkest, and there stood a solitary house, which she did not like, for it looked so dark and dismal.

She went inside, but no one was within, and the most absolute stillness reigned. Suddenly a voice cried: “Turn back, turn back, young Simle dear, “'Tis a murderer's house you enter here!” Simle looked up, and saw that the voice came from a bird, which was in a cage hanging on the wall.

Again the bird cried: “Turn back, turn back, young Simle dear, '''Tis a murderer's house you enter here!” Then Simle went on farther from one room to another, and walked through the whole house, but it was entirely empty and not one human being was to be found.

At last she came to the cellar, and there sat an extremely aged woman, whose head shook constantly.

“Can you tell me,” said Simle, “if my betrothed lives here?” “Alas, poor child,” replied the old woman, “where have you arrived! You are in a murderer's den. You think you are a bride soon to be married, but you will keep your wedding with death. Look, I have been forced to put a great kettle on there, with water in it, and when they have you in their power, they will cut you to pieces without mercy. They will cook you, and eat you, for they are cannibals, eaters of human flesh.

If I do not have compassion on you, and save you, you are lost.” Thereupon the old woman led her behind a great hogshead barrel where she could not be seen.

“Be still as a mouse,” said the old crone. “Do not make a sound, or move, or all will be over with you.

At night, when the robbers are asleep, we will escape. I have long waited for an opportunity.” Hardly was this done, before the fearsome crew came home. Imagine how horrified poor Simle was when she saw that her own betrothed was the leader of this villainous gang. Binden and his minions dragged with them another young girl. They were drunk, and paid no heed to her screams and lamentations. They gave her wine to drink, three glasses full, one glass of white wine, one glass of red, and a glass of yellow, and with this her heart burst in two.

At this they tore off her delicate raiment, laid her on a table, cut her beautiful body in pieces and strewed salt on it.

Poor Simle behind the cask trembled and shook, for she saw right well what fate Binden and his robbers had destined for her.

Binden exclaimed aloud in a drunken voice: “That's a pretty ring on the girl's finger. Since she has no more use for it in the house of Hel, I fancy it for myself. It can be the price of our hospitality!' All his villainous crew laughed aloud at this. Binden tugged and tugged at the ring, but it would not come off. Growling horrible oaths, he took an axe and cut the girl's finger off. The finger was hit with such force that it sprang up in the air, away over the cask and fell straight into Simle's bosom.

Binden roared in frustration and all his band of cut-throats yelled and hollered at the ghastly humour of the scene. Roaring ferocious oaths at them, he took a candle and looked for the finger, but couldn't find it.

One of the gang, one slightly less drunk than the others, said, “Have you looked behind the great hogshead?”

At this the old woman cried, “Lord Binden, come and get something to eat, and leave off looking till the morning. Do you think the finger is going to run away on you?” Binden was distracted from his search. He spilled hot wax on his hand and the sudden pain made him drop his light. When he bent to pick it up, the blood rushed to his head and he fell down into a drunken stupor. As the others feasted, the old woman poured a sleeping-draught in their wine, so that they soon lay down in the cellar, and slept and snored.

When Simle heard all the thunderous snores, she came out from behind the hogshead, and had to step over the sleepers, for they lay in rows on the ground. Great was her terror lest she should waken one of them.

When she got safely over, the old woman went up with her, opened the doors, and they hurried out of the murderer's den with all haste.

The wind had blown away the strewn ashes, but the peas and lentils had sprouted and grown up, and showed them the way in the moonlight.

They walked the whole night, until in the morning they arrived at the mill, and then Simle told her father everything exactly as it had happened. When the day came for the wedding to be celebrated, Binden appeared, and the miller had invited all his relations and friends.

As they sat at table, each was bidden to relate something. Simle sat still, and said nothing.

Then Binden said to his bride, “Come, my darling, do you know nothing? Relate something to us like the rest.”

Simle replied, “Then I will relate a dream, my darling Binden. I was walking alone through a wood, and at last I came to a house, in which no living soul was, but on the wall there was a bird in a cage which cried: “'Turn back, turn back, young Simle dear, “'Tis a murderer's house you enter here! “And this it cried once more. My darling Binden, I only dreamt this. “Then I went through all the rooms, and they were all empty, and there was something so horrible about them. At last I went down into the cellar, and there sat a very, very old woman, whose head shook. I asked her, 'Does my bridegroom live in this house?' She answered, 'Alas poor child, you have got into a murderer's den. Your bridegroom does live here, but he will hew you in pieces, and kill you, and then he will cook you, and eat you.'

“My darling Binden, I only dreamt this. But the old woman hid me behind a great hogshead, and scarcely was I hidden, when the robbers came home, dragging a maiden with them, to whom they gave three kinds of wine to drink, white, red, and yellow, with which her heart broke in two.

“My darling Binden, I only dreamt this. Thereupon they pulled off her pretty clothes, and hewed her fair body in pieces on a table, and sprinkled these pieces with salt.

“My darling Binden, I only dreamt this. The leader of the robbers saw that there was still a ring on her little finger, and as it was hard to draw off, he took an axe and cut it off, but the finger sprang up in the air, and landed behind the great hogshead, and fell in my bosom.” Simle jumped up and held up her hand for everyone to see, crying out:

“And here is that very finger with the ring!” Binden, who had during this story become as pale as ashes, leapt up and wanted to escape, but the guests held him fast, and delivered him over to justice.

Then he and his whole troop were executed for their infamous deeds.