“Give heed to my words,” the Elf admonished him, as he delivered it to him. “In the Cave of Darkness only will you be endangered by the spells of the Wizard himself. There only he has power, and he never leaves its shelter and the weapons of enchantment which it contains. But in the lands without he has powerful and evil friends, who will not be slow to help him against his enemies if he desires it. From all but one of these the Cloak will conceal you.” The Elf paused for a moment and then went on more earnestly. “Though your foes will not behold you, yet you must be on your guard against them, for who can say what traps they may set for you, what snares may await you. Beware, therefore, of the Ash Goblin. He is small of stature, but he cannot safely be despised, for he is very cunning. He will not only assist the Wizard gladly because he hates his sister, but for some grudge, also, that he bears to the dwellers in the Land of Fire, he will not fail to wreak his spite on any who comes from thence.” “I will not forget your warning,” Prince Ember promised him. “Beware, also, of Curling Smoke,” the Elf continued. “None more wicked and dreadful than he inhabits the lands you must pass through. He travels far and wide, and because Prince Radiance lately conquered and scattered him by the power of his Sword of Flames, he has vowed to be revenged upon one and all who enter here from the land of the good Fire Fairies.” Again Prince Ember assured him that he would remember. The Elf drew closer to him and laid his hand upon the Prince’s arm. “Beware,” he adjured him solemnly, “Beware of the Wind in the Chimney. Against him only the Cloak may not protect you. His eyes are keen to pierce disguises. His hands are strong to break down spells. See to it that he does not snatch from you in an unguarded moment this sheltering Cloak.” Once more the Prince gave his promise, and stretching his hands in gratitude to the giver of so priceless a treasure, poured out his thanks. But the Elf checked him. “Speak not of it,” he protested kindly. “The elves of the Borderland rejoice to have a part in any noble undertaking. Only succeed, and we are well repaid.” “The Wise One has said that I shall be victorious,” declared the Prince confidently. “And when my task is done, and the Shadow Witch has returned in freedom to her own land, I shall preserve as my chief treasure this marvelous Cloak, which you have been at such pains to weave for me.” The Elf smiled and shook his head. “Not so,” he answered. “None takes the Cloak of Ash from the Borderland.” “Then I will return it safe to your hands,” the Prince assured him. “There will be no need,” replied the Elf, “for the Cloak perishes when its work is done.” With these words he led him from the dim room where the marvel had been wrought, and brought him to the outer threshold of his house. There the Prince bade him farewell.