“The winds cried: ‘Ughhhhhoooouuuuughhhhhh-h—’ and fled back to their caves. But they carried some of the cold with them, and the monkeys and cockatoos shivered and sneezed in the trees as the frost-needles pricked them. And some of them had bad colds the next morning. “And as the ships swept by, almost within reach, and the vapor poured over him, Torquillon shrieked with rage and loosed his hands from his banner, to catch them. It floated off; and Taffy, looking back from the Jane Ellen, and every one on the two ships saw their enemy stand, his hands still lifted above his head, and the drapery of his robes hanging stiff about him—shining and glittering in the calm moonlight like diamonds and emeralds and sapphires—no longer a terrible Waterspout, but a glorious Iceberg, frozen to his hot, angry heart! “And all the air was full of finest diamond frost-needles—drifting—floating—slowly settling about him and over the two ships—until every spar and rope was coated with hoar-frost, and the sails and decks shone like silver; but the Star Twins were gone. “Then all the clouds drifted away, and the dark blue sky of the tropic night arched over Torquillon’s Lair, with the throbbing stars looking down; and the most beautiful thing they saw was that wonderful Iceberg—all his rage gone—calm and shining in the tranquil sea.” The Princess’s voice ceased. There was no sound, only a long-drawn breath through the room, as if great music had just come softly to a close. She began again in a different voice—talking: “But the Captain knew it never would do to leave him there; for he would melt in the hot sun and be as bad as ever; though he was frozen harder than any ice he ever had seen. So they didn’t wait even for morning, but fastened ropes around him and set off to tow him North. They didn’t mind if it took a month—it was such a good thing to do. They carried him far up toward the North Pole, and left him frozen fast in the ice. And he will never get away! “Now ships pass freely through the wide channel that was Torquillon’s Lair; and since he has gone the clouds have left too, and the Rock Man has forgotten to frown, and if the Lion roars, it is a roar of welcome. The little winds caper and frisk around the ships until the channel seems the pleasantest spot in the ocean, and they are sorry to leave it.” The Kitten had her foot already off the edge of the couch, but she stopped, because the Princess leaned forward, with her finger up, to say one more word, and mischief began to dance in her eyes. “And,”—said the Princess, “if any one asks Taffy if he ever saw a Waterspout, his eyes shine and his white teeth, and he says, ‘_Sure!_’” Then she opened her arms and the Kitten ran into them. “I’ll ask him,” she said. “Will he tell me? Will he come soon?” She asked it so quickly, it was all one question, and her arm around the Princess’s neck pulled her head forward where the glow from the burned-down fire was on her face. It grew suddenly like a rose.