The King was as much stunned with sorrow and surprise as if he had received a sword's point in his breast. Until dawn, without closing an eye, he lay thinking of how he might prevent the realization of the witch's prediction. With the first beams of morning light, the infant began to cry. The charcoal-burner rose and, going to his wife's side, found that she was dead. "Poor little orphan!" he cried, sadly; "what will become of you, bereft of a mother's care?" "Confide this child to me," said the King; "I will take care of it, and it will find itself well off. As to yourself, I will give you so much money that you shall have no further need to tire yourself by burning charcoal." The charcoal-burner gave his consent with pleasure, and the King departed, promising to send somebody for the infant. The Queen and the courtiers had, meanwhile, arranged to give the King an agreeable surprise, by announcing to him the birth of a charming little Princess, who had come into the world on the night when the King, her father, saw the three witches. Knitting his brow, the King called one of his attendants to him and said:-- [Illustration: "HOLDING EACH A LIGHTED WAX CANDLE."] "Go to such and such a place in the forest, to the hut of a charcoal-burner, to whom you will give this money in exchange for a new-born child. Take the brat and, somewhere on your way, drown it. Only remember that if it be not thoroughly done away with, you yourself shall take its place." The servant received the infant in a basket, and, having reached a footbridge over a wide and deep river, he threw the basket and the infant into the stream. "A good journey to you, son-in-law!" cried the King, on hearing the servant's report of his mission. The King believed that the child was drowned, but it was neither drowned nor dead; on the contrary, supported by the basket in which it was inclosed, the little one floated gently down the river, as in a cradle, and slept as sweetly as if its mother had sung it to rest. After awhile the basket came near the hut of a fisherman who, while busy repairing his nets, caught sight of something floating in the water in mid-stream. Quickly jumping into his boat, he rowed out to the object and, having secured it, ran to tell his wife what he had found. "You have always desired to have a son," he cried; "here is a handsome one brought to us by the river." The fisherman's wife received the infant with great joy, and tended it as if it were her own. They called it Plavacete (the Swimmer), because it came to them floating on the waters. Years sped, the little foundling grew up to be a man, and in none of the neighbouring villages was there a youth to compare with him.