Duldy was overjoyed that he was now free from the power of the enchantress, and led the Princess out on to the balcony which overlooked the river. It was a beautiful night, and Duldy saw the great white peak of Kel shining against the dark blue sky, and the heaving waters of the river at his feet. Just as he kissed the lips of his Princess, a confused noise sounded from the city below. The river, lashing itself into angry waves, began to rise, and as Duldy and the Princess, full of dismay, retreated to the hall, a crowd of people rushed in and stopped the dancing. “Sire! sire!” they called out to the King, “the river is rising round the city, and all the fountains are spouting foam! We are lost! we are lost!” Everything was in confusion, people rushing here and there shrieking and crying, while the lights of the city died out, and the cruel, dark waters kept on rising, until every one thought the whole city would sink beneath the flood. Duldy knew it was the work of Foamina, and his mind was quite satisfied on that point when a great white wave of foam rolled into the hall over the balcony. On this the Water-witch was riding, singing loudly,— “Give me my lover, King’s daughter, king’s daughter, Or I will cover Your city with water.” The Princess shrieked and hid her face on Duldy’s shoulder, while Arago and all the people around looked at the witch in dismay. Suddenly Duldy recollected how Salamander had promised to help him, so he called out,— “Salamander, O, withstand her! She has brought her Cruel water. Drive from land her, Salamander!” The witch laughed loudly, and the wave rolled on, amid the lamentations sounding from the city below, when suddenly, in the place where the Fountain of Jewels had been, a tall flame shot up, and out of it flashed Salamander, glowing like a beautiful crimson star. “Foamina, beware!” he cried, shaking a torch which he held in his hand; “or I will burn up your springs, scorch your forests, and crush you for ever.” “No, you won’t,” said Foamina, flinging her white arms aloft. “This shepherd is mine—mine! and you can do nothing.” “Can’t I?” cried Salamander, waving his torch. “Behold!” There was a great roar, like the report of a thousand cannons, and every one looked through the open window with a cry of alarm. Far away, from the snowy peak of Kel shot a tall column of red flame, with a black cloud above it spreading over the midnight sky, and vividly bright streams of burning lava began to run down the white snow like veins of fire. “Oh, my springs, my springs!” shrieked Foamina wildly; “they will all be burned up, and I’ll die—I can’t put that fire out.” “No, you cannot,” said Salamander sternly; “nor will I till you give up all claim to Duldy.”