They hunted up and they hunted down, but they could find neither sign nor trace of the golden rider and the golden horse. So after a while they had to ride back to the castle without them.
“You should have brought the lad who blew upon the key,” said the princess.
The next day the lad rapped upon the ground with his key again.
“I should like to have,” says he, “a golden coach drawn by six milk-white horses, with coachman and footman and out-riders dressed in clothes of gold and silver.”
That was what he said; and there they were just as he wanted. Into the coach he got, and off he rode down by the king’s castle.
Dear, dear, how the folks did stare, to be sure! This time the king sent twelve knights after the golden coach, for he thought it must be a king or a prince for certain who rode by in such style.
Pretty soon the lad came to a woods, and there he jumped out of the coach and rapped upon the ground with his key.
“I want to be just as I was before,” says he; and, sure enough, he was.
Up clattered the twelve knights on their horses, and there sat the lad in rags and tatters whistling upon his key.
The twelve knights hunted high and hunted low, and not another soul could they find, and so they had to ride back to the castle again.