e all over his head and body. At last, when the fiddler
was nearly dead, the little wretch left off, and shoved the poor fellow
out of the iron gate which he had entered in such good spirits a few
hours before. The fresh air revived him a little, and in a short time
he was able to stagger with aching limbs back to the inn where his
companions were staying. It was night when he reached the place, and the
other two musicians were fast asleep. The next morning they were much
astonished at finding the fiddler in bed beside them, and overwhelmed
him with questions; but their friend hid his back and face, and answered
them very shortly, saying, 'Go there yourselves, and see what's to be
seen! It is a ticklish matter, that I can assure you.'

The second musician, who was a trumpeter, now made his way to the
castle, and everything happened to him exactly as it had to the fiddler.
He was just as hospitably entertained at first, and then just as cruelly
beaten and belaboured, so that next morning he too lay in his bed like
a wounded hare, assuring his friends that the task of getting into the
haunted castle was no enviable one. Notwithstanding the warning of
his companions, the third musician, who played the flute, was still
determined to try his luck, and, full of courage and daring, he set out,
resolved, if possible, to find and secure the hidden treasure.

Fearlessly he wandered the whole castle, and as he roamed through the
splendid empty apartments he thought to himself how nice it would be
to live there always, especially with a full larder and cellar at his
disposal. A table was spread for him too, and when he had wandered
about for some time, singing and playing the flute, he sat down as
his companions had done, prepared to enjoy the delicious food that was
spread out in front of him. Then the little man with the beard entered
as before and seated himself beside the flute-player, who wasn't the
least startled at his appearance, but chatted away to him as if he
had known him all his life. But he didn't find his companion very
communicative. At last they came to the game, and, as usual, the
little man let his piece fall on the ground. The flute-player was
good-naturedly just going to pick it up, when he perceived that the
little dwarf was in the act of springing on his back. Then he turned
round sharply, and, seizing the little creature by his beard, he gave
him such a shaking that he tore his beard out, and the dwarf sank