Time passed, and his ambitions seemed as far as ever from realization.  Yet the ambitious mind lacks not fuel for its fires; the youth’s imagination peopled the woody solitudes with braver company than courts could boast—­vivid, unreal dream-people, whose shadowy presence increased his longing for the actuality.  The very winds whispered mysteriously of coming triumphs, and as he listened his unrest grew greater.  At length there came a time when dreams no longer satisfied him, and he pondered how he might attain his desires.

“I will go out into the world,” he said to himself, “and take service under some great knight.  Then, peradventure—­”

At this point his musings were interrupted by the approach of an old man, clad in the garb of a hermit.

“My son,” he said, “what aileth thee?  Nay”—­as the youth looked up in astonishment—­“nay, answer me not, for I know what thou wouldst have.  Yet must thou not forsake thy lowly occupation; that which thou dost seek will only come to thee whilst thou art engaged thereon.  Follow me, and I will show thee the spot where thy destiny will meet thee.”

The young man, not yet recovered from his surprise, followed his aged guide to a distant part of the forest.  Then the hermit bade him farewell and left him to ponder on the cryptic saying:  “Here thy destiny will meet thee.”

“Time will show the old man’s meaning, I suppose,” he said to himself; “in any case, I may as well burn charcoal here as elsewhere.”

He set to work, hewed down some great trees, and built a kiln, which, before lighting, he covered with stony earth.  What was his amazement when, on removing the cover of the kiln in due course, he discovered within some pieces of pure gold!  A moment’s reflection convinced him that the precious metal must have been melted out of the stones, so he again built a kiln, and experienced the same gratifying result.  Delighted with his good fortune, he concealed his treasure in an appropriate hiding-place and proceeded to repeat the process till he had obtained and hidden a large fortune, of whose existence none but himself was aware.

One night, as he lay awake listening to the wind in the trees—­for his great wealth had this drawback, that it robbed him of his sleep—­he fancied he heard a knock at the door.  At first he thought he must have been mistaken, but as he hesitated whether to rise or not the knock was repeated.  Boldly he undid the door—­a feat requiring no small courage in that remote part of the forest, where robbers and freebooters abounded—­and there, without, stood a poor wayfarer, who humbly begged admittance.  He was being pursued, he declared; would the charcoal-burner shelter him for a few days?  Touched by the suppliant’s plight, and moved by feelings worthy of his chivalrous ideals, the youth readily extended the hospitality of his poor home, and for some time the stranger sojourned there in peace.  He did not offer to reveal his identity, nor was he questioned on that point.  But one morning he declared his intention of taking his departure.