“No,” replied Duldy quietly; “I have been too much astonished at the beauties of this place to ask yet for hospitality. I have come to cure the Princess.” The old man shook his head sadly. “Ah, many have come to cure the Princess, but none have yet succeeded; for not doing so they lost their heads; so do not try, my son, or maybe you will fail, and your comely golden head will be cut off.” “Oh, I’m not afraid,” said Duldy, laughing. “I know all about this magic sleep, and will certainly succeed in awakening her, although the others have failed. But tell me, why does the King promise his throne to the person who cures Princess Elsa; has he no son?” “None,” answered the old man, whose name was Onaro. “The Princess Elsa is his only child. You are a stranger here, I take it, so perhaps do not know how the King Arago came to the throne.” “No, I do not.” “Then I will tell you,” said Onaro; “it will show you how merit sometimes succeeds. The last King had the misfortune to be loved by the Water-witch Foamina, who dwells on the summit of the great mountain of Kel. He refused her love, and in revenge she drowned his queen and only son when sailing in a boat. The King was so overcome with grief at the loss of his wife and child that he died, and as there was no one of the blood royal to succeed him, the citizens elected the prime minister, Arago, to be king, and their choice was very wise; but as he is not of royal blood, none of the neighbouring princes will marry his daughter, so King Arago has promised her hand and his throne to the lucky youth who awakens her from this long sleep.” “But are you sure the young prince was drowned?” asked Duldy, who remembered how he had been found on the banks of the river Foam. “Some say he was, others that he was not,” said Onaro, shaking his head. “I do not know; but it is fabled that the enchantress Foamina carried him off with her to her mountain home, but I know not if this be true.” “How long ago was the Prince lost?” asked the shepherd breathlessly. “Just seventeen years ago,” replied Onaro; “and he was a year old then, so if he had lived he would now be eighteen years of age.” “My age,” thought Duldy, with great exultation. “Perhaps, after all, I am the Prince stolen by Foamina;” but he was too wise to say this aloud, lest the King should hear of it, and hang him for high treason. “As you look tired, you had better come to my house,” said Onaro in a kind voice. “No, thank you,” replied Duldy, “I’m in too great a hurry; but please tell me how to reach the palace of the King.” “Go straight on, and you will find it at the end of the street,” said Onaro; “but if you are wise you will not go.” He spoke these last words to the empty air, for Duldy, as soon as he heard where the palace was to be found, darted up the street like a swallow, so Onaro turned away sighing, thinking that Duldy would soon lose his head, like the rest who had come to cure the Princess.