"No, darling, the spirits live forever. Well, the king promised him his arm--if by that means he might save his child--and his hand. And from year to year the spirit came back, demanding ever more and more as forfeit-money. At last he obtained promise of the king's head and heart. And when the king's whole body belonged to him he said, 'This is the last year. Now I shall either carry off your daughter or you must promise me your shadow.' Upon which the king replied, 'No; I will give you no more. Take what is yours; but neither my daughter nor my shadow shall you have.' Thereupon the spirit left him amid loud claps of thunder. The next day was fine and sunny, and the king set out for a pleasure sail upon the sea. Suddenly a violent storm arose, and engulfed both ship and king in the waves. His body was never found. His daughter still lived on; and every evening, when the sun was going down, she saw a shadow draw near to her--the shadow of a man with a kingly crown upon his head; and as the shadow glided past her it seemed to her as if she felt a kiss upon her cheek, and as if her cheek became rosy red." The Czar had grown thoughtful. That king, whose shadow alone wandered upon the face of the earth, was so like to himself. And Sophie, too, thought that she was like the king's daughter--kissed every evening by a kingly shadow. Bethsaba, however, added, playfully, "We have so many such legends with us. I could tell you more than a hundred." "It is a very sad story, my dear child," said the Czar. "I like stories that have a sad ending," said Princess Sophie. "Those that end, 'And if they are not dead, they are alive to this day,' I cannot endure. I like books, too, to end badly; but the doctor says I must not read. But little Bethsie knows such a lot of nice stories." "Have in your supper now. Are you not hungry?" "Oh, who wants to be always thinking of eating? Besides, we are eating all day long." And Sophie pointed to a box of bonbons, from which a few had been taken. "But you ought to eat nourishing things, to make you strong." "Who says I am ill? Give me my hand-mirror. Have I not color enough?" "Yes, you have a good color. You are really looking well to-day." "Phew, phew!" she exclaimed, spitting twice behind her. "One should never tell anybody they look well; it is unlucky. Now let us lay the table for supper." The mighty ruler was quite ready to act the lackey to the pale child with the weary eyes, in whom his whole soul was concentrated. But, with the best of will, he did it awkwardly; it was plain he was not learned in the art. And Sophie scolded him roundly.