"Have I not met you before?" repeated the King, with a fierce gesture. "Methinks you would look better as a pine tree than a hulking giant," and before the words were fairly out of the King's mouth a stately pine tree was standing in the courtyard, through which the wind of the early morning made a moaning noise much like the pitiful groan of the poor, late giant. "And you, my little cockatoo," continued the wicked King, turning quickly to Ned, "would look better in a cage!" And in another minute Ned found himself in a wicker cage, suspended from the lowest limb of the pine tree. "And now," cried the wicked King, "where is your third guest?" The princess paused a moment. "Oh, the little bluebird!" she exclaimed, "where has it gone?" "No, not the little bluebird, but he that was the bluebird." At this the poor princess became very pale. She had hidden her brother the evening before when they had gone to bed in a closet in her room, hoping to have the opportunity of disguising him and sending him away with Ned and the giant the first thing in the morning. But, now, alas, her wicked stepfather undoubtedly suspected something. For else why should he ask for him? She was in despair, for she knew not what to say. And where was Ned's little friend, the bluebird herself, all this time? Had she deserted her friends, the little princess asked herself? "Answer my question!" cried the King, grasping hold of her wrist. The princess screamed with terror and her brother, hearing her cry, rushed forth from the closet and down the stairs. Whipping his sword from its scabbard, he made for the cruel tyrant. Alas, that bravery and valor do not always win! It was useless for him to fight against so experienced a swordsman as the King, and in short time the prince was wounded and his sword thrown from his grasp. "Little gamecock!" cried his conqueror, "you must needs grow larger spurs before you tackle an old rooster like me! And since you remind me of one, a rooster you shall be," and in five short seconds the little prince was changed into a young gamecock. "Out into the courtyard!" cried the King; "a castle is no chicken house," and the little prince found himself unceremoniously thrown under the big pine tree. "Have pity!" cried the little princess. "Is there no pity for a little orphan princess?" "Enough," answered the King, with a stamp of his foot. "Go to your room, else you may find yourself also changed into a bird, or a tree, or a pretty butterfly." So the unhappy little princess went up the stairs, crying bitterly, to her own chamber. Closing the door, she leaned out of the window and sobbed as if her heart would break. For a moment she did not notice that the topmost branch of the pine tree was close to her casement. In fact, she would not have noticed it for some time probably, as her face was buried in her hands, had not the branch brushed against her fingers.