For three weeks the wind blew; and though there were days when the sea-mist lifted, there was no day on which the sea was calm enough for the launching of their small boat. Then one afternoon came change. The warm air turned chill, and the warm rain became sleet; that night the wind backed to the north, and next day was a blizzard of snow. And the night after the wind fell away, and the snow ceased, and Orion and his two dogs shone huge in a frosty sky; and Fiona woke to the glories of a scarlet sunrise on a great field of white. "We must hurry, daddy," she said. "It's perfectly calm." "It's a pet day," said the Student, sniffing the air. "It won't last; the wind backed too suddenly. But it's all right till sunset." Directly breakfast was over they launched the little boat, and started. The snow shone white in the sunshine, and the calm sea against the snow was as blue as a blue lotus; but the shadows on the snow were a wonder, and the woven complexity of their colorings would have taxed every hue on an artist's palette. So they pulled down and into the cave, at whose mouth the great bluff looked barer and blacker than ever against the world's whiteness; and they grounded their boat and climbed the rock barrier. There the Student sat down and filled and lit his pipe. "This is as far as I can go," he said. "If I mistake not, you will find that they have opened the door for you." So Fiona went on to the recess where the Urchin had found the doubloon, and where the torch had been smashed in her father's hand; and the solid wall of the cliff had opened, and there was an archway leading into the black vaulting of the long cave behind. Fiona passed through into the darkness . . . and the darkness parted to right and left of her, and she stood again in the fairy ring where she had stood on All Hallows E'en. But how changed. Of all the bright throng of fairies that had clustered round it, not one stood there to-day. The circle of scarlet toadstools was broken down and shattered, as though by a great storm; and the ring itself was no longer grass, but was covered deep in snow. Of all the things she had seen there that evening, only one remained. The beryl throne still stood lonely in the midst of the bare ring; and on the throne sat the King of the Fairies. His face rested on his hand, as though he were deep in thought; his eyes were looking at something far away. On the steps of the throne sat the Chancellor, the King's inseparable friend; and he, too, was deep in thought. It was a view of the fairy world which Fiona had never expected. The King must have heard her step, for he rose from his throne and came down to meet her. "Have you come for your treasure, Fiona?" he said. And she said, "I have come because you asked me to come back."