the rooms, and the boy watering the garden, so that by the time the
good woman came downstairs there was nothing left for her to do. This so
delighted her that she begged the children to stay with her altogether,
and the boy answered that he would leave his sisters with her gladly,
but that he himself had serious business on hand and must not linger in
pursuit of it. So he bade them farewell and set out.

For three days he wandered by the most out-of-the-way paths, but no
signs of a tower were to be seen anywhere. On the fourth morning it was
just the same, and, filled with despair, he flung himself on the ground
under a tree and hid his face in his hands. In a little while he heard
a rustling over his head, and looking up, he saw a turtle dove watching
him with her bright eyes.

'Oh dove!' cried the boy, addressing the bird in her own language, 'Oh
dove! tell me, I pray you, where is the castle of Come-and-never-go?'

'Poor child,' answered the dove, 'who has sent you on such a useless
quest?'

'My good or evil fortune,' replied the boy, 'I know not which.'

'To get there,' said the dove, 'you must follow the wind, which to-day
is blowing towards the castle.'

The boy thanked her, and followed the wind, fearing all the time that it
might change its direction and lead him astray. But the wind seemed to
feel pity for him and blew steadily on.

With each step the country became more and more dreary, but at nightfall
the child could see behind the dark and bare rocks something darker
still. This was the tower in which dwelt the witch; and seizing the
knocker he gave three loud knocks, which were echoed in the hollows of
the rocks around.

The door opened slowly, and there appeared on the threshold an old
woman holding up a candle to her face, which was so hideous that the boy
involuntarily stepped backwards, almost as frightened by the troop of
lizards, beetles and such creatures that surrounded her, as by the woman
herself.

'Who are you who dare to knock at my door and wake me?' cried she. 'Be
quick and tell me what you want, or it will be the worse for you.'

'Madam,' answered the child, 'I believe that you alone know the way to
the castle of Come-and-never-go, and I pray you to show it to me.'

'Very good,' replied the witch, with something that she meant for a
smile, 'but to-day it is late. To-morrow you shall go. Now enter, and
you shall sleep with my lizards.'

'I cannot stay,' said he. 'I must go b