He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and behold, the fireworks were
the very last rays of the setting sun, and the music was the voice of
the other traveller, passing the grove on foot!
"Time to be off," said the lazy man, and looked about him for the pretty
horse. No horse was to be found. The only living thing near was an old,
bony, grey donkey. The man called, and whistled, and looked, but no
little horse appeared. After a long while he gave it up, and, since
there was nothing better to do, he mounted the old grey donkey and set
out again.
The donkey was slow, and he was hard to ride, but he was better than
nothing; and gradually the lazy man saw the towers of the castle draw
nearer.
Now it began to grow dark; in the castle windows the lights began to
show. Then came trouble! Slower, and slower, went the grey donkey;
slower, and slower, till, in the very middle of a pitch-black wood, he
stopped and stood still. Not a step would he budge for all the coaxing
and scolding and beating his rider could give. At last the rider kicked
him, as well as beat him, and at that the donkey felt that he had had
enough. Up went his hind heels, and down went his head, and over it went
the lazy man on to the stony ground.
There he lay groaning for many minutes, for it was not a soft place, I
can assure you. How he wished he were in a soft, warm bed, with his
aching bones comfortable in blankets! The very thought of it made him
remember the Castle of Fortune, for he knew there must be fine beds
there.
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