As the shadow fell across the threshold she looked up brightly, expecting to see her husband. Meeting Paul's gaze instead, her own grew strained with horror, and snatching her baby from the cradle she fled to the inner room. Without a word Paul hastened away. He knew his doom, and hastened to throw himself back to the sea. In his headlong flight he stumbled against an old, old woman, gathering drift-wood on the wreck-strewn coast. She would have fallen if he had not caught her in his arms, and as he held her she saw his eyes. They alone were unchanged, and his mother knew them. 'My boy--my dear boy!' she cried with a sob of joy. And she drew his seared face down to her bosom, murmuring over it the same fond words she had used when he was a child. She kissed him, and the spell was broken; once more he was good to look upon.... The Princess had not known, you see, that a mother's love is immortal." * * * * * Father was still asleep when the story came to an end, so I implored the Fairy to tell me another. "This comes from Provence, too," she said in answer to my pleading, "and will show you that sea-folk can sometimes be merciful." [Illustration] The Sailor and the Porpoise. "Among the crew of the good ship _L'Oiseau_, was a sailor named Antoine, who kept all on board alive with his merry wit. One day, while sailing the waters of the Mediterranean, the sea only faintly ruffled by the breeze that helped them on their way, they espied what at first appeared to be a huge sea-serpent making its way towards them. For a few moments the mariners watched it in much alarm; then, to their immense relief, they found that their 'sea-serpent' was a string of harmless porpoises, swimming in a row, with their shining black backs just appearing above the surface of the water. As they neared the ship they broke their ranks, and evidently regarding the sailors as their friends, gambolled upon the waves like boisterous children. No man dreamt of interfering with them until Antoine thoughtlessly picked up a rusty spear and threw it at one of those farthest away. He did not do this from any desire to kill, but only to show how excellent was his aim, and when he saw his shaft strike home, tinging the sea with red as his victim sank with a convulsive shudder, he was seized with self-reproach and a nameless dread. And behold! a great storm shook the sea, as if the gods themselves were angry. Thunder and lightning rolled and flashed, and raindrops heavy as leaden balls fell in swift torrents. So fearful was the tempest that it threatened to overwhelm the ship, and the Captain was in despair. In this dire extremity a knight on a magnificent black charger came riding over the waves. 'Surrender him who threw the spear!' he cried, and the sea stayed its turmoil to listen. 'Do this, and I will save the ship. Else shall it perish, with all on board, and sea creatures shall gnaw your bones.'