The Queen held her breath in terror. She would have liked to escape from the fierce Sea, whose face wore a look of wild triumph; but her anxiety to see the Child of the Winds overcame her fear, and she waited patiently, her hands clasped tightly together to quell her rising agitation. By this time it was quite dark; the sky was starless, there was not a breath of air. In her imagination the Queen seemed to see the Winds in their mountain home, unconscious of the peril of their daughter. The Sea had disappeared, and was so long absent that the Queen began to think she had been dreaming, when suddenly, by invisible hands, a child was placed in her arms. "Thou must call her Myra," said a voice, "for she hath known only bitterness on the breast of her foster-mother." The Queen looked around, but saw no one. Pressing the burden to her heart, she started homewards. She dared not look at the little one; but she felt the tiny arms clasped confidingly round her neck, and the sweet mouth pressed against her cheek gave her more happiness than she had ever known. The Sea followed her, washing the shore with phosphorescent waves to light her steps homewards. The royal lady flew along with the agility of early youth, and the burden in her arms was made light by love. At length the marble steps were reached. She hurried up them and through the golden gates--along winding passages and across alabaster halls, until at length, breathless and trembling with excitement, she burst into the King's apartments, where she placed Myra in the arms of her amazed and happy husband. Cognisant of his just and upright nature, she did not tell him of the child's parentage, knowing that he would have been the first to restore it to its rightful owners. She said that she had found the little creature on the shore, and that fearing it would be drowned by the incoming tide, she had borne it to the palace, hoping that, should it be unclaimed, her royal lord would, in pity of her loneliness, and in consideration of their desire for a daughter, allow her to keep and rear it as their own. Long into the night they sat, admiring the lovely waif. "She must be royally born, my love," said the King. "Washed overboard, perhaps, from some regal ship. Be sure she will be claimed of thee." Suddenly Myra awoke, and the Queen set her on her feet, that they might the better observe her. [Illustration]