‘Let me alone, old witch,’ cried the young man; ‘I can do nothing for you,’ and so saying he went on his way.
That same evening the gardener’s son rode up to the fountain upon his lame grey horse.
‘Good-day to you, young traveller,’ said the beggar-woman.
‘Good-day, good woman,’ answered he.
‘Young traveller, have pity upon me.’
‘Take my purse, good woman,’ said he, ‘and mount behind me, for your legs can’t be very strong.’
The old woman didn’t wait to be asked twice, but mounted behind him, and in this style they reached the chief city of a powerful kingdom. The minister’s son was lodged in a grand inn, the gardener’s son and the old woman dismounted at the inn for beggars.
The next day the gardener’s son heard a great noise in the street, and the King’s heralds passed, blowing all kinds of instruments, and crying:
‘The King, our master, is old and infirm. He will give a great reward to whoever will cure him and give him back the strength of his youth.’
Then the old beggar-woman said to her benefactor:
