"Heart of Joan Lost and won Fly back home, Thy journey's done. Take back joy Take back pain Heart of Joan, Fly home again." and it will fly to her side, and you will see it no more; and now begone." Michael seized the heart with a cry of joy and exultation, and then turned and fled from the room through an open iron door, and passed through the passages, no longer softly carpeted and hung with silk, but dreary and bare, made of cold stone, down which his foot-steps echoed and clashed. He hurried from the castle as quickly as might be, and once outside did not stop to look for the old man or the monster, but swam the moat, and went straight to where his boat lay moored as he had left it, nearly seven years before, and never paused till he had rowed so far that the gray castle and the shore had almost passed from view. At last he came again to the shore where he had bought his boat of the fishermen, and here he went on land, and started to walk till he had reached Joan's country, and her father's castle. He had no money, and his clothes were rags, his hair was thin and gray, and his shoulders bent. He looked like a poor beggar, and he had to beg food as he went, or he would have been starved. Still, he was ready to cry for joy, because he took with him the little soft heart he had gone so far to find. He trudged on both day and night, making great haste, for he knew that the seven years were almost gone, and he was afraid lest already he might be too late, and find that Joan had married some one else. At last, after many weary miles, he reached her country, and drew near to the palace where she lived, and here he found that the people were all decorating their houses, and making preparations as if for some great festival. He stopped and begged for food from a woman who stood by a cottage door, and when she had given him some bread, as he ate it he asked her to tell him what went on in the country, and why there was such rejoicing. "It is for the marriage of the King's daughter Joan," said the woman; "To-morrow she is to be married to old King Lambert, and the wedding will be very grand, but none of the country folk like it, for he is old and ugly, and they say he does not love her at all, but only marries her that he may be king of this country as well as his own. The Queen is in sore distress about it, and for seven years refused her consent; but they will be over to-morrow, and so they will be wed, and the guests are already beginning to arrive at the palace, and each one brings some splendid gift." "I will be a guest at that wedding," cried Michael; "And I bring the best gift of all for the bride;" and he hurried on again, not heeding the woman's scorn and laughter. When he came to the palace, he found that it was hung with flags, and arches of flowers were erected in front of it, and grand lords and ladies, and servants stood at the door to receive the guests who came.