my luck. Who'll go with me to-morrow night?" The men
made the sign of the cross, and declared that their lives were more to
them than all the treasures in the world, and that no one could reach
these treasures without losing his soul. Then they begged the stranger
to recall his words, and not to pledge himself to the Evil One. But the
bold barn-keeper gave no heed to their entreaties and expostulations,
and resolved to attempt the adventure alone. In the evening he asked the
host for a bundle of pine-splinters, that he might not be in the dark,
and then inquired the nearest way to the ruins.

One of the peasants, who seemed to be a little bolder than the others,
went with him for some distance as his guide with a lighted lantern. As
the sky was cloudy, and it was quite dark, the barn-keeper was obliged
to grope his way. The whistling of the wind and the screeching of the
owls were terrible to hear, but could not frighten his bold heart. As
soon as he was able to strike a light under the shelter of the masonry,
he lit a splinter and looked about for a door or an opening through
which he could get down underground. After looking about fruitlessly for
some time, at last he discovered a hole at the foot of the wall, which
seemed to lead downwards. He put the burning splinter in a crack in the
wall, and cleared out so much earth and rubbish with his hands that he
could creep through. After he had gone some distance, he came to a
flight of stone stairs, and there was now room enough for him to stand
upright. He descended the stairs with his bundle of splinters on his
shoulder and one burning in his hand, and at last reached an iron door,
which was not locked. He pushed the heavy door open, and was about to
enter, when a large black cat with fiery eyes dashed through the door
like the wind and rushed up the stairs. The barn-keeper thought, "That
must be what strangled the lord of the castle;" so he pushed the door
to, threw down the bundle of splinters, and then examined the place more
carefully. It was a great wide hall, with doors everywhere in the walls;
he counted twelve, and considered which he should try first. "Seven's a
lucky number," said he, so he counted till he came to the seventh door,
but it was locked, and would not yield. But when he pushed at the door
with all his strength, the rusty lock gave way and the door flew open.
When the barn-keeper entered, he found a room of moderate size; on one
side stood a table