She slipped it upon her finger, and it fitted as though it had been made for nobody in the world but her. As for the Clever Student, he liked to be there, I can tell you, for he thought that he had never seen such a pretty lass. Well, by and by the princess had gathered all of the shells that she wanted, and then she went back home again. When she had come there and to her own little room, all of a sudden a tall, good-looking young fellow stood before her. That was the Clever Student, who had changed himself back into his own true shape again. At first the princess was ever so frightened, but the Student talked to her so pleasantly that she began after a while to think that she had never seen such a nice, clever young fellow. So they passed the time very pleasantly together until evening drew near, and then the Student had to go. But the Master of Black Arts was not at the end of his tricks yet. And the Clever Student knew that as well as he knew anything. “See, now,” said he to the princess, “the Master will be coming after me before long. When he comes he will ask for the ruby ring, and he must have it, but I have a trick in my head to meet that.” He cut off a lock of his hair and then pricked his arm till it bled. With the blood he wet the hair, and by his arts he made of it a ruby ring so like what he himself had been that even the princess herself could not have told the one from the other. After that he changed himself into a necklace of carbuncles, and the princess was just as fond of it as she had been of the ring. [Illustration: The Clever Scholar remains a Ruby Ring no longer, having regained his own true shape. ¶] Sure enough, it happened just as the Clever Student had foretold. Before a great while the Master of Black Arts came along and on his arm he carried a basket. Rap! tap! tap! he knocked at the door of the king’s house. Down went one and asked him what he wanted. Oh! he only wanted to see the king; he had something for him here in the basket. So he was shown up to where the king was, and then he opened the basket and in it was a little black hen. “Only a little black hen!” you say? Wait; you should hear all before you speak! The Master of Black Arts stood the little black hen on the table. “Hickety-pickety!” said he, and before the king knew what to think of it the little black hen had laid an egg all of pure silver. And that hen was worth the having. As for the king, bless me! but he was glad to have such a hen as that. If the master wanted anything that the king could give him, he had only to ask for it and it was as good as his. “So; good!” says the Black Master, “then there is a little ruby ring that the princess wears and that I have taken a fancy to; if I may have that it will be all that I ask for.”