“Little one,” King Loc replied in a voice at once jovial and testy, “you do not know whether or not you have harmed me, for you are ignorant of effects and causes and reflections, and all philosophy in general. But we’ll not talk of that. If you don’t mind leaving your tunnel, come this way.” George at once crept into the cavern, slipped down the length of the wall, and as soon as he had reached the bottom he said to his deliverer: “You are a good little man; I shall love you for ever; but do you know where Honey-Bee of Clarides is?” “I know a great many things,” retorted the dwarf, “and especially that I don’t like people who ask questions.” Hearing this George paused in great confusion and followed his guide in silence through the dense black air where the octopuses and crustaceans writhed. King Loc said mockingly: “This is not a carriage road, young prince.” “Sir,” George replied, “the road to liberty is always beautiful, and I fear not to be led astray when I follow my benefactor.” Little King Loc bit his lips. On reaching the gallery of porphyry he pointed out to the youth a flight of steps cut in the rock by the dwarfs, by which they ascend to earth. “This is your way,” he said, “farewell.” “Do not bid me farewell,” George replied, “say I shall see you again. After what you have done my life is yours.” “What I have done,” King Loc replied, “I have not done for your sake, but for another’s. It will be better for us never to meet again, for we can never be friends.” “I would not have believed that my deliverance could have caused me such pain,” George said simply and gravely, “and yet it does. Farewell.” “A pleasant journey,” cried King Loc, in a gruff voice. Now it happened that these steps of the dwarfs adjoined a deserted stone quarry less than a mile from the castle of Clarides. “This young lad,” King Loc murmured as he went on his way, “has neither the wisdom nor the wealth. Truly I cannot imagine why Honey-Bee loves him, unless it is because he is young, handsome, faithful and brave.” As he went back to the town he laughed to himself as a man does who has done some one a good turn. As he passed Honey-Bee’s cottage he thrust his big head into the open window just as he had thrust it into the crystal tunnel, and he saw the young girl, who was embroidering a veil with silver flowers. “I wish you joy, Honey-Bee,” he cried. “And you also, little King Loc, seeing you have nothing to wish for and nothing to regret.” He had much to wish for, but, indeed, he had nothing to regret. And it was probably this which gave him such a good appetite for supper. Having eaten a huge number of truffled pheasants he called Bob. “Bob,” said he, “mount your raven; go to the Princess of the Dwarfs and tell her that George or Blanchelande, long a captive of the nixies, has this day returned to Clarides.” Thus he spoke and Bob flew off on his raven. XIX