"Ah, yes. That's it; that's it! Will you help me if I tell you?"
"If I can, certainly."
"Listen then, Johannes." Wistik opened his eyes amazingly wide, and lifted his eyebrows higher than ever. Then he whispered along the back of his little hand:
"Human beings have the golden chest, fairies have the golden key. The foe of fairies finds it not; fairies' friend only, opens it. A springtime night is the proper time, and Robin Redbreast knows the way."
"Is that true, really true?" cried Johannes, as he thought of his little key.
"Yes," said Wistik.
"Why, then, has no one yet found it?" asked Johannes. "So many people are seeking it!"
"I have told no human being what I have confided to you, I have never yet found the fairies' friend."
"I have it, Wistik! I can help you!" cried Johannes, clapping his hands. "I will ask Windekind."
Away he flew, over moss and dry leaves. Still, he stumbled now and then, and his step was heavy. Thick branches cracked under his feet where before not a grass-blade had bent.