The Princess said, “I am seeking my fortune. Do you think you are it?” “I do not know, my dear,” said the King, “whether I am your fortune, but I know well enough that _you_ are _mine_!” Then the Princess clapped her hands and said, “That is the right answer! I have travelled half round the world to hear it; and will you love me always?” “Always, my Queen,” said he, “exactly the same as you will love me. We are not of the race that changes heart.” So then they kissed each other as lovers should, and wandered along the yew-tree avenue deep in lovers’ talk, and never even heard the crowd that the Magician had brought to the front door. So when the crowd found that the Palace door was locked for the night it went home again, but it came back in the morning with trumpets and banners and scraps of coloured stuff tied over its white clothing, and the King went out to meet it. When the crowd saw him every one began to shout: “Down with Alban!” “Down with the White King!” “Free Beer!” “No more washing!” and things like that. Then the King stood forth and said— “What have I done but seek for your good? When, till now, have I thought of my own happiness? Who has stirred you up to these ill thoughts of me? My people, my own beloved people, have my ears ever been closed to your complaints? Have you wrongs? Tell me, and I will right them. Have you sorrows? Make them known and let me soothe them. Do you not know that your King is your servant, and lives but to do you good?” And the crowd grumbled and muttered, and one voice cried— “We don’t want to be done good to. We want to enjoy ourselves.” “I did not know,” said the King, gently. “But now you have spoken I will at once appoint a Minister of Public Enjoyment, and——” The Magician was watching the crowd, and he saw how the sight of the King’s good face and the sound of his good voice were working on their hearts that had once loved him. Now Negretti sprang forward. “One word, brother!” he cried, and led the King into the shadow of a close-clipped yew-tree walk. The moment they were hidden he caught his brother’s arm and whispered a wicked spell: and the first words of it were in Persian, and the next in Greek, and after that came words in Arabic and Spanish, and the speech of the county of Essex, and the last words of all were “be changed to a stone.” And so strong was the spell that the King was turned to a stone that very minute—a great white stone—and fell under the yew hedge, and lay there. Then the Magician said “Ha, ha!” and, after waiting so long as he deemed prudent, he went back to the people, and said—