He carefully examined the epistle, and was obliged to admit that the paper, the writing, and the seal were all unquestionably authentic. He thereupon called for his son-in-law, and interrogated him as to the details of his journey. Plavacete withheld nothing from his father-in-law, and related how he had lost his way in the forest and had passed the night there in a cottage. "What is this old woman like?" asked the King. On hearing the description given him by Plavacete, the King was convinced that it was the identical old woman who, twenty years previously, had predicted the marriage of the Princess with the charcoal-burner's son. After reflecting for awhile, the King went on:-- "What is done is done: only you cannot be my son-in-law on such slight grounds. For a wedding present, you must bring me three hairs plucked from the head of Dede-Vsevede, the old man who knows all and sees all." He thought by this means to get rid of his son-in-law, whose presence embarrassed him. Plavecete took leave of his wife departed, saying to himself:-- "I do not know which way to turn my steps; but no matter, my god-mother will direct them." He was not deceived. Without difficulty he found the right road, and pressed forward for a long time over hill and dale and river, until he reached the shore of the Black Sea, and observed a boat with its one boatman, to whom he said:-- "Heaven bless you, old boatman!" "The same to you, young traveller. Where do you want to go?" "To the castle of Dede-Vsevede, to get three hairs from his head." "If that is so, welcome! I have long awaited the arrival of such an envoy as you. For twenty years I have been rowing passengers across, and not one of them has done anything to deliver me. If you promise me to ask Dede-Vsevede when I am to have a substitute to free me from my troubles, I will row you over in my boat." [Illustration: "PLAVACETE TOOK THE LETTER."] Plavacete promised, and the boatman rowed him to the opposite shore. He thence continued his journey, and approached a great city, which was partially in ruins. Not far from it he saw a funeral procession; the King of the country followed the coffin of his father, and tears as big as peas rolled down his cheeks. "Heaven console you in your distress," said Plavacete. "Thanks, good traveller. Whither are you going?" "To the castle of Dede-Vsevede, in search of three hairs from his head." "You are really going to the castle of Dede-Vsevede? What a pity you did not come some weeks ago! We have long been waiting such an envoy as you." Plavacete was introduced to the Court of the King, who said to him:--