"Madam," said the boy, "knowing that you alone know the way which leads to the castle of Go and Return Not, I come to ask you, if you please, to point it out to me."
The old woman made a grimace, intended for a mocking smile, and answered:
"Very well; but now it is too late. You shall go to-morrow. Come in, and you shall sleep with these little insects."
"I am not able to stay," replied the boy. "It is necessary that I should go at once, as I have to return by daybreak to the place whence I came."
"May dogs worry you, and cats tear you, you stubborn boy," growled the old witch angrily. "If I tell you the way," she added, "it will only be upon condition that you bring me this jar full of the Water of Many Colours, which flows from the fountain in the courtyard of the castle; and if you do not bring it to me, I will change you into a lizard for all eternity."
"Agreed!" cried the boy in return.
Then the old woman called a poor dog, which looked very thin and wretched, and said to it:
"Up! conduct this good-for-naught to the castle of Go and Return Not, and be careful that you inform my friend of his arrival."
The dog snarled, shook himself savagely, and set forth. At the end of about two hours they arrived in front of a very black, enormous, and gloomy castle, whose portals stood wide open, though neither light nor sound gave any indication that it was inhabited; even the rays of the moon, as they were reflected upon the sombre and lifeless mass, seemed to make it still more horrible.
As he went forward the dog began to howl; but the boy, who knew not whether this was the giant's hour for sleep, stopped and rested himself timorously against the trunk of a withered and leafless wild olive, which was the only tree to be found in that parched and naked district.