So the king ordered the ferry-man to procure him this wonderful guitar, or be put to death.
His wife told him what to do, and gave him a handkerchief of hers, embroidered with gold, telling him to use this in case of need.
Following the ball of thread he came at last to a great lake, in the midst of which was a green island.
He began to wonder how he was to get there, when he saw a boat approaching, in which was an old man, with a long white beard, and he recognized him with delight, as his former benefactor.
"How are you, ferry-man?" he asked. "Where are you going?"
"I am going wherever the ball of thread leads me, for I must fetch the Self-playing Guitar."
"This guitar," said the old man, "belongs to Goldmore, the lord of that island. It is a difficult matter to have to do with him; but perhaps you may succeed. You have often ferried me over the water; I will ferry you now."
The old man pushed off, and they reached the island.
On arriving the ball of thread went straight into a palace, where Goldmore came out to meet the traveller, and asked him where he was going and what he wanted.
He explained: