The purest and most exalted love took possession of his soul; horror, disgust, and loathing, were the feelings most powerful in the breast of the Princess as she beheld him. At length, forgetting the hideousness of his shape, and the natural repugnance she must have felt for him, he advanced towards her to address her. "Beautiful creature!" he exclaimed in a voice as loud as thunder--"What are you? Whence come you?" No sooner did he speak than the spell was broken, and with a cry of fear she fled away from him as fleetly as a startled fawn. Her voice and action would have convinced an ordinary mortal that he had no hope of gaining her affections. Not so the Spirit of the Storm. "Stay, sweet being! oh, stay and listen to me!" he repeated, but the words only hastened her flight. He gazed after her till she disappeared, and when he found that it was useless to follow, and that there was not the remotest chance of her returning, he sat himself down on a rock which hung over the sea to consider what he should do. As he sat, the water became perfectly calm as a glass mirror; and looking into it, after some minutes' deep meditation he beheld the reflection of his own monstrous form. He had been so long accustomed to look at Tritons, and other sea spirits as hideous as himself, that he was not aware how ugly he was. Now, with grief at his heart, he at once saw the difference between the Princess Serena and himself. His late exposure to the sun had not added to his beauty, for his hands and arms and the top of his head had become red, while the anguish he was suffering increased the wild expression of his countenance. With good reason, he was at length very nearly giving way to despair. "Alas! unhappy spirit that I am," he cried, "why did I look at that mortal maiden? Why do I long for what is beyond my reach? Why am I not content with the enjoyment proper to my own fierce nature? Alas! this new feeling overpowers me, and a delicate maiden has enslaved the mighty Borasco." While he was speaking a sound reached his ears. He knew it well, for it was the summons to Neptune's conclave. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "I will consult King Neptune, and ask his aid. If any one can help me, he can, to win the heart of that lovely damsel. "And now my bold steed, with the white-flowing crest, Come hither, come hither, arouse thee from rest. Oh! what courser like thee can so rapidly bound, When I mount thee to ride o'er the waters profound? Then haste, my brave steed, again hie to me, And together once more we will range o'er the sea." While he was uttering these words, a mighty wave rolled in towards the shore. Leaping on it, away he went over the ocean at a rapid rate, leaving in his track a line of glittering foam, till he reached the centre of the Atlantic, over the palace of Neptune--then down, down he descended, till he entered the gateway of its rocky halls. STORY SIX, CHAPTER THREE.