I wrote down all I could remember of her instructions, and went out into the street to cool my burning head. As I stood before the door, I heard a jingling of little bells, and a voice singing and shouting, and saw, coming toward me down the street, a train of five or six mules, driven by a short fellow in a leather jerkin, on foot, who was singing raucously and shouting lustily to his animals. His face was gay and humorous, and he cracked his whip merrily. “Good mules for hire!” he sang. “Good mules for hire! We’ll bring you to your heart’s desire! We laugh at rain and snow and mire! We never lag and never tire! We _thread_ our way through ice and fire! Good mules for hire! Good mules for hire!” “Thread!” What did he mean by that word? I stared at him, and as he was passing me he looked at me long and hard, and gave me a slow wink. A little while later, as I was ironing a piece of goods within doors, the mule driver himself appeared in the shop. “At your service, master Solario!” he cried, gayly. “For a long journey or a short one! If you’re thinking of going a journey, I’m your man! Come, master Solario, the sun is shining, lock up the shop!” It seemed a curious piece of good fortune that this fellow should have appeared almost on the heels of the old woman herself, and the long and short of it was that I hired him for my journey, at so much per week. He agreed to provide the necessary outfit, and we would depart that night. My preparations were soon made. The notes I had made of the old woman’s directions I sewed inside my vest. I placed in my strong box the doublet and the button, and bestowed the box where it could not be found during my absence. At midnight, my driver appeared. It was a starry night. I locked the shop, and we mounted our mules. Preceded by four other animals, packed with our outfit, we quietly moved down the street, past the last houses, and into the forest. My search for the white unicorn had begun. _Adventures in Search of Alb the Unicorn_ From that night until we came in sight of the river Tarn, far beyond the confines of the Forest Kingdom, the adventures we encountered were numerous and fearful. We spent weeks on this perilous journey. In the second week we came to a dark castle on the side of a mountain. We crossed the drawbridge, which strangely happened to be down, though it was late at night, and blew the horn which hung by the gate. But perhaps it will be unnecessary to detail these adventures? _“Totally unnecessary,” said the King. “I can scarcely restrain my impatience to know how the story ends.”_ There are several, however, of extraordinary interest, which you might perhaps be pleased to hear: the adventure of the Roving Griffin, the adventure of the Blind Giant, the adventure of Montesango’s Cave-- _“Yes, yes,” said Bojohn and Bodkin, in a loud whisper._ _“No,” said the King. “I must beg you to reserve these pleasures for another occasion. I can’t sit up all night.”_