"Come, let us in immediately, and don't stand prating there. I am the Princess Bertha," said the dwarf princess. "I crave your Royal Highness's pardon," said the servant, bowing low. "I did not observe you," and he allowed our pair to enter without further opposition. "What is all this?" exclaimed the arch-priest who came to meet them. "My little princess, with her champion naked and bleeding!" "Holy father," said the princess, "we wish to be crowned to-morrow. See that preparations are made for the occasion." The arch-priest bowed to the ground. "Your Royal Highness's will is law. Is there no further obstacle to the coronation?" "None; and if there were, I'd conquer it as I have done the rest. See that my spouse and I are crowned to-morrow in presence of all the people," said the princess. "Your spouse!" exclaimed the arch-priest. "I knew nothing of it. He is not what he seems, then--he is of royal blood?" "Royal blood or not, he is my lawful spouse, and he is to be crowned," said the princess, firmly. "But, my dear princess," answered the priest, "if he is not of royal blood, how can I?" "Enough," said Bertha. "I have the warrant of the queen of the fairies that he is to be my partner in life. Here is my certificate of marriage." And she produced a paper five or six times as big as herself, which she handed to the priest. The priest opened it, and glanced through it. "What!" he exclaimed. "Then he really is of royal blood. I see. What is this paper enclosed? Ha! a pedigree." And he began to read, "Prince Hans Wurst, son of King Blut Wurst, lost in early youth and picked up by a woodcutter, with whom----" "You see," said the princess, "how the fairies befriend me. This second paper must have been placed here by their hands, for this is the first time I have set eyes upon it. Are you content with the information therein contained?" asked the Princess Bertha. "Perfectly, your Royal Highness," said the arch-priest, bowing. "To-morrow, then, it must take place, father," said the princess. "Without delay," replied the priest. "But, tell me, what on earth brings His Royal Highness Prince Hans here in this pitiable plight?" Bertha then began to recount the misadventures of her knight and the spite of her envious sisters, the detailing of which filled the poor old priest with horror. "But, at any rate," said he, at the conclusion of the narrative, "let the prince's wounds be healed. Send for a surgeon." "A surgeon! Bah!" cried the princess. "Behold, sir priest, what one favoured by the fairies can do," and thus saying, she touched her husband's back with her wand, and it instantly healed so that none could see even the slightest scratch. "Gramercy!" quoth the arch-priest; "I never before beheld such a miracle. Thou art indeed favoured of the higher powers."