Then the Prince tore his hair, and groaned, and went home to Trumkard. But he could not sleep; and when the moon arose, he got up and wandered far away beyond the walls of the city, until he came to the borders of the sea. There he saw, roaming about upon the sands, numbers of water-women, who every now and then blew upon conch-shells, looking about them in every direction, as if they expected some one to answer them. When the Prince perceived them, he slipped softly from rock to rock, keeping himself well concealed, until he came near one of them, when he made a sudden rush and caught her, while all the others, with loud cries, dashed into the sea. The one he had captured, struggled and cried piteously; but, in as few words as possible, he entreated her to be quiet, and to understand that if she was looking for a Princess, he could tell her where she was, or at least where she had been. The water-woman then became quiet, and the Prince told her all he knew, and how anxious he was to find the beautiful Princess. The good woman of the sea then told him that she and her companions had come up on the shore every night for a year, hoping that the Princess would stray that way, and be induced by them to return to her ocean home. Then she told him who the Princess really was, and thus her story ran. When the late mighty King, Barradin, was quite young, he married a daughter of the ocean, at which his father, much incensed, drove him from the court. He retired far from men, and a little son was born to him. In a few years his wife died, and he was left alone with his son. When this boy grew up, he also married a water-woman, and, having so much of their blood in his veins, he went down to live with his wife's relations, leaving his father to do as well as he could by himself, until he ascended the throne. When Barradin became king, he did not marry a queen, or cut off people's heads, or go to war, or build palaces; but he took his chief delight in music, and encouraged the love of it among his people. So it was in the hope that one of his descendants might some day sit upon the throne, that he composed the magical music; for he knew that no one but a descendant of the ocean-folk could sing that music, and none but those of his blood could read it, for there was magic in his family.