“Good!” said Porphyrio, and he paid the money. Then, to the countryman’s amazement, he threw open the door of the cage, and allowed the sea bird to escape. With a glad cry, and a mighty beating of its gray wings, the creature climbed into a splendor of the sunset, dwindled to a black speck, and vanished from their eyes. Once more the Prince set sail. For a few days the weather remained tranquil and fair. Then came a night of cloud, and a rushing wind, which increased during the day to a hurricane. Now arose a great din, the howling of the wind through the shrouds, the cracking and straining of the timbers of the ship, the cries of the sailors, and the roaring and foaming of the deep. All night long, through the wild ocean dark, the Prince’s ship drifted nearer and nearer the unknown waters of the Southern Sea. Suddenly, just before the dawn, a tremendous noise was heard; the vessel trembled throughout her length, and crashing down once more on a hidden reef, broke apart. A huge wave swept Porphyrio from the deck, some wreckage hurled itself upon him, and he knew no more. When he woke again, close upon noon, he found that the waves had carried him to the stony beach of a dark and unknown isle. A stately wall of cliffs of the strangest dark-blue stone girdled it about; to the left, to the right, the rampart swept, solemn, unscalable, and huge. One broken mast of the Prince’s ship still rose forlorn above the tumbling waters on the reefs; but of the gallant crew there was never a sign. With a heavy heart Porphyrio trudged off to look for shelter and for aid. Long hours followed he the curving shore, even till the sun, which had been shining in his face, little by little crept to the side and shone behind, yet never a way to the headland’s height stood forth in the sheer and sombre wall. And now, of a sudden, and by great good fortune,--for the tide was rising,--Porphyrio, turning the base of an advancing crag, found himself close by a noble promontory that sloped from the cliff-top to foundations in the sea. Half climbing, half dragging himself along the stones and terraces of this ridge, the Prince attained at last the height of the blue wall. A great dark isle lay open before him--a solitary isle of shadowy lands, gloomy woods, and rocks and hillocks of the same dark stone he had marked before. Save for the faint murmur of the encircling sea below and the sighing of the wind, the isle was as silent as a land beneath the deep: indeed, so still and dark it was, that it seemed as if the night reigned there, forever untroubled by the day. In the very heart of the gloom, its mighty walls and blue battlements lifted high against cloud mountains gathered in the west, a stately palace rose. After a long, winding journey through a wood dark as a leafy cave, Porphyrio arrived at the portals of the dwelling.