THERE was great rejoicing at the royal palace. Flags waved from every tower. Bright-colored silken streamers floated from every window. Each maidservant had been given a new gown and each servingman a broad silver piece. Little bells were tinkling joyously. Soft strains of music came from one corner and another. The rejoicing was not only at the palace, but throughout the Island Kingdom. Men and women took a holiday from their work. Children went about the streets singing. When night came, every window was ablaze with light and every hilltop was glowing with a bonfire; for the King and Queen had a little daughter. Her eyes were as blue as the ocean, her skin was as white as its foam, and her hair was as yellow as the gleam of the sunlight on the sand.

By and by there was a magnificent christening feast. Kings and nobles and princes and witches and magicians and fairies were all invited. Every one came and every one gave the beautiful baby Princess his very best wishes.

“The King is a happy man to have a child like that,” said one guest to another as they were leaving the palace.

“True,” replied the other, “but he did not look happy. Did not you notice how troubled his face was and how strangely he acted? When some one pushed the curtains aside for a bit of air, did you see how quickly he ran to the window and drew them together again with his own hands, and looked at the baby as if he was afraid it would disappear at a ray of daylight? I am sure that he is anxious about something. The Queen is not. She is as happy as the day is long.”

“I should think she would be. She has everything in the world that she wants, and not one thing to trouble her.”

When all the guests had gone and the candles had burned low, the King went to the Queen and said:—

“My Queen, I have something very sad to tell you. Can you bear it?”

“I can bear anything with such a child as this,” she replied.

Then the King said:—

“When my father was a young, young man, he was so bewitched by the spells of a mermaid that he was ready to give up his kingdom and follow her into the sea. His councillors begged of him to leave her, the court magicians tried in every way to break her spells, but they could not succeed. While they were waving their wands and saying over their charms, she lay on a rock out in the sea and laughed them to scorn. ‘Go on,’ she said. ‘Keep him if you can. I’ll have his soul yet in spite of all you can do.’ At last all the priests in the kingdom came together. Each one took a great vase of holy water, and they walked entirely around the island, sprinkling the shore as they went. The wicked mermaid could not cross the ring of holy water. Day after day she lay on the rock by the shore, calling and calling the Prince to come to her; but the priests had done their work so thoroughly that he had no longer any wish to go to the wicked creature. When she found that she had lost him, she shrieked with rage and anger and pronounced seven dreadful curses upon him. Six of them the priests could overthrow, but there was one over which they had no power, because it did not affect the Prince himself, but his first grandchild.”

“And that is our baby!” said the Queen, clasping the little Princess closer in her arms.

“Yes,” replied the King, “and the curse was this: If she once looks upon the ocean before the end of her eighteenth year, sorrow shall come to her and to all who love her.”

The King and the Queen talked together sadly about what they should do to save their little daughter. The kingdom was one large island. The palace was on a high hill in the very middle of the island, and from every room in the palace the ocean could be seen.

“Couldn’t we give up the kingdom and go somewhere to live far, far away from the ocean?” asked the Queen, with tearful eyes.

“No,” replied the King. “There is no heir to the throne save our little daughter; and if I should go away, there would be war. I have no right to bring war upon my people even to save my child.”

All night long they talked and planned, and when morning came, they hoped they had found a way to save the Princess. A band of white silk was bound about the pretty blue eyes, and four of the most trusty women in the kingdom were chosen to be the child’s nurses. These were the orders that the King gave them:—

“Two of you must be with her by night and two by day. She must never be left alone for one moment. The band about her eyes must never be removed except at night, and then it must be replaced before the first ray of light in the morning.” If the Princess passed her eighteenth birthday in safety, each one of them was to have ten thousand pieces of gold.

Year after year went on, and the Princess still wore the bandage over her eyes. If she ventured to lay a finger upon it, she was punished as severely as if she had been the child of a peasant; but in everything else she did exactly as she liked. Whatever she asked for was always given her and whatever she wished to have done was done at once. Some princesses would have become haughty and disagreeable, but this one was always kind-hearted and unselfish.

The King had made no secret of the sad story. Indeed, every one in the kingdom knew it except the Princess herself; and the people loved her so much that they were almost as eager as her parents for her to pass her eighteenth birthday in safety. “They say her eyes are like stars,” whispered the people; and gradually they forgot the many names that had been given her when she was christened and spoke of her only as the Star Princess. Wherever she went, she was guarded not only by two of her nurses, but also by all of her father’s subjects who chanced to be in sight. She had never seen the ocean or the sun or had even a single glimpse of daylight, and yet she was the happiest, merriest little maiden in the world. One reason for this was that she did not know that she was at all different from other people. When little girls were brought to play with her, their eyes were always bandaged like her own, and they played only such games as they could play blindfolded. No one was allowed even to mention the sun or the daylight or the ocean in her presence. “Why do people never uncover their eyes until the candles are lighted for dinner?” she once asked. And the nurses replied, “Because before that time eyes are so ugly that no one can bear to look at them.”

One day she asked suddenly, “What is the strange sound that we hear all the time? It is like murmuring and sighing and sobbing and singing. Sometimes it groans and sometimes it almost laughs. Nurses, what is it?”

“It is your greatest enemy,” the nurses replied.

“It must be a dragon,” thought the Princess, and she asked, “Why doesn’t my father drive it away?”

“He would if he could,” the nurses answered, “but it is stronger than he. It never can come any nearer, however; so all its groaning will not hurt you.”

As time passed and the Star Princess grew older, she asked more and more questions. “She must be amused,” declared the King. He sent out his orders and one morning a great troop of workmen appeared at the palace with spades and pickaxes. They were to dig down, down, into the earth, for there a wonderful ballroom was to be made which the King meant should be the most beautiful one in all the world. The walls were of white marble, and over them from floor to ceiling were most exquisite traceries all made in jewels. There were trees drawn with emeralds and beryl, beds of scarlet poppies made of the clearest and most brilliant rubies; there were roses made of pearls and garnets and topaz stones; there were forget-me-nots of the bluest turquoise; there were violets of amethyst; and all about and among the trees and flowers were birds of sapphires and diamonds. In this room the Star Princess was always safe, for not a ray of sunlight could ever enter it. It was anything but gloomy, however, for when the hundreds of candles were lighted, it was such a blaze of brightness and color that one might almost fancy it was the very home of the rainbows. It was no wonder that people came from near and far to see the marvelous room, for there was not another one like it in all the world. Here entertainments of all sorts were given, for the King was ready to do anything to amuse the Star Princess and keep her from being lonely or unhappy or from asking questions that he did not wish to answer.

At last she came to the end of her eighteenth year. The next day, at precisely four o’clock in the morning, she would be eighteen years old, and then there would be no more danger. The King and Queen were so happy that they hardly knew what to do. There was to be a splendid ball, of course, on the night of her birthday, and they had busied themselves in planning to make it the most brilliant fête that the Island Kingdom had ever seen.

“But I should so like to have her all to ourselves on that day,” the Queen had said wistfully. “Couldn’t we give the ball on the eve of her birthday? She will be with us and with the whole roomful of dancers. Nothing could possibly happen to her then.”

The King was not quite pleased with the idea, but he had finally yielded, and the ball had been arranged to come on the eve of her birthday.

Invitations were sent to the kings and queens and princes and princesses of many and many a kingdom, and every one was accepted. For seven days before the ball, ships whose sails were of cloth of silver and cloth of gold were continually coming up to the royal wharves. All day long the King’s golden chariots were going and coming between the palace and the shore to bring up the guests. There was music and feasting and merriment of all sorts, and on the evening of the seventh day came the ball. After all were assembled, the King led in the Star Princess. She was dressed in a gown of white, of some wonderful material that glowed like opals in a soft, subdued light and flashed like diamonds when the light was stronger. Her golden hair almost touched the floor, and gleamed like sunshine. Around her waist and her neck were rows and rows of pearls, and above her forehead shone one diamond star. She was so lovely that more than one noble prince said to himself, “She is surely a fairy. No mortal maiden was ever so beautiful.”

Among the guests there was one who had not been invited, but who was, nevertheless, the most welcome of all. He was the son of the greatest king in that part of the world, but in his babyhood he had been stolen away by trolls. He had just been rescued and was on his way to take possession of his kingdom. When his ship came near the Island Kingdom, strains of music floated down from the palace, and there at the wharves lay the royal vessels of many and many a sovereign with the royal pennants streaming in the wind.

“What does that mean?” the Prince asked.

“It must be a great ball,” replied his attendants.

“I never went to a ball in my life,” said the Prince; and he added with a grim smile, “We did not have balls in the palace of the trolls.”

“Would your Highness wish to attend this one?” suggested his companions, for they, too, had much curiosity to see what was going on in the Island Kingdom. “Of course your Highness knows that there is no court on this side of the world that would not feel honored by your presence.”

The end of it was that the Prince, too, moored his vessel at the royal wharves and rode up to the palace in the royal chariot, and received a most royal welcome. He was presented to the Star Princess at once, of course, and from that moment he could not keep his eyes from her. He danced with her again and again. He seized every opportunity to talk with her, and she was very willing to listen. He told her about his having been stolen away by trolls. “But now,” he said, “I have a good ship. The sea is calm, the sun is bright, there is a fair wind, and soon I shall be in my own kingdom.”

The Star Princess looked puzzled. “I think I can guess what a ship is,” she said. “It must be a little like a palace; but I don’t know what the sea is or the sun.”

The Prince stared in amazement. “Why, the sun is above us and it gives us warmth and light,” he said; “though I am sure it never shone so bright as your beautiful eyes.”

“I have never seen this strange sun,” the Star Princess said. “Candles give light, but how can there be any light without them?”

“Can she be out of her right mind?” thought the Prince. He said no more about the sun, but began to talk about the beautiful room and the jewels that were flashing and gleaming.

The Star Princess, however, had no idea of dropping the subject. “But what is the sea?” she asked. “You said you came in your ship on the sea. What is the sea?”

When the Prince looked into her clear, calm blue eyes, he could not believe that she was not in her right mind, and he began in a dazed fashion to try to tell her about the sea. “It’s water,” he said, “and it lies all around the island, and ships sail on it.”

“Does it murmur and sing and sigh and moan and laugh?” asked the Star Princess eagerly.

“Why, yes, I suppose it does,” replied the Prince, a little doubtfully.

“Then it must be the dragon,” declared the Star Princess. “Surely you have seen the dragon. My nurses say that it lies around the island, but that it will never hurt me. Is the sea a dragon?”

“Yes—no—the sea is just the sea,” returned the puzzled young Prince. “I can’t explain it exactly, but if you should look out of your window, you would see it, I am sure. It must be in view from every window in the palace. Look out to-morrow morning at sunrise. The sea is beautiful. It is dark and blue, it is like your own glorious eyes. I am so eager to see them in the daylight.”

“Is daylight before dinner?” the Star Princess asked. “People’s eyes are very ugly before dinner, you know; and that is why they always wear bandages over them till the table is spread and the candles are lighted.” Then the Star Princess was called away to meet some other one of the great folk who had come to the ball, and she saw no more of the Prince.

All night long and until three o’clock in the morning the dancing and feasting and merriment went on. Soon after three the Star Princess left the room, and her going was the signal for the breaking-up of the ball. The Prince lingered, and when he made his farewell to the King and the Queen, he asked if he might speak with them on a most important matter. Of course they said yes, for of course they guessed what it was. Then he told them that the Star Princess had won his heart, and he begged of them to give her to him to be his bride. “I know well that I am not worthy of her,” he said humbly, “but I will do everything in my power to make her happy. At her slightest wish I will give my wealth and my life as freely as you would pour out this glass of water,” and he caught up a glass of water that stood on the banquet table and emptied it.

The King and the Queen were glad and they were sorry. They liked the bearing and manner of the young Prince, and they knew that he was the sovereign of the richest kingdom in that part of the world. They were glad to have their daughter become his queen, but it did seem hard that they should not have her to themselves for a while after the time had come when they could enjoy her without having to guard her and watch her so carefully. At last the King said:—

“If it is the wish of our daughter, we will give her to you for your bride, but you must first leave her with us for a year and a day that we may accustom ourselves to the thought of losing her.”

Of course the Prince could only agree to so moderate a condition as this. Then they told him the story of the mermaid’s curse, and that on her first day of freedom no one but her father and her mother were to see her; and he went away to wait impatiently until her birthday should have passed.

Now when the Star Princess left the ballroom and went to her own room, two of the nurses went with her as usual. She had little to say, for her thoughts were all on the young Prince and his words to her. “The sun—the sea,” she said to herself; “what can they mean?” Then she remembered that he had said, “Look out of your window at sunrise and you will see it.” Just what “sunrise” meant, she did not know; but whatever it might be, she meant to look out of the window just once before the nurses put back the band over her eyes. She said to one of them:—

“Nurse, I am so thirsty. Will you get me some water from the north side of the well that is on the north side of the palace.”

For a moment the nurse hesitated. Then she said to herself, “The servants are not up yet, and it would be a pity to call one just for this. To-day is her eighteenth birthday, and nothing can harm her now,” so one nurse started to go down the stairs. The other nurse was putting away the opal-like gown and the diamond star and the ropes of pearls. She stepped into another room for a moment, and the Star Princess quickly pulled the curtains apart and took her first look at the sunrise and the sea. She gazed and gazed at them. It was all so beautiful that she could not turn away, and when the nurse came back, there she stood.

“O my Princess,” the nurse exclaimed, “what have you done, what have you done!” Just then the bell on the castle rang, “One—two—three—four!” It was four o’clock in the morning, and the Star Princess was full eighteen years of age. Then the nurse thought, “Ten thousand broad pieces of gold is a great deal to lose. It was only a moment before the time, and surely no harm is done. Perhaps it will never be known.” She concluded to say nothing about the matter, and to the Star Princess she said, “I thought you must have hurt yourself, and I was frightened. Now go to your bed and rest awhile, for to-day you are to be happier than ever before.”

The Star Princess was so used to obeying her nurses that she went meekly to bed and even allowed them to put the band over her eyes as usual; but she was puzzled and confused. In that one long look she had found that no dragon, but a thing more beautiful than anything she had ever seen before even in her dreams lay around the Island Kingdom. What could it mean? Why had she never been allowed to see it? What was that glorious light that came up from the blue and was a thousand times brighter than the candles? Over and over she said to herself, “Sun—sea—ship,” but she could not solve the mystery. She lay as if asleep until the time came to go to her father and her mother. Then she heard the whole story of the wicked mermaid and the seventh curse. “Now you are free,” they said joyfully. She took a hand of each parent and roamed over the palace from garret to cellar, gazing from window after window upon the glorious ocean and the deep blue sky. They went out of doors, and she saw the trees, the flowers, and the birds. She watched the rippling of the waves on the shore. Every hour was more delightful than those before it. At last came the glory of the sunset, and she exclaimed, “Oh, this is even more beautiful than the sunrise!”

“But what do you know of the sunrise?” her father asked gravely, and she told him of her one look from the window. Both her parents were troubled, but the Star Princess was so happy that they could not bear to alarm her. Then, too, they said to themselves, “It was only a moment before the clock struck, and surely no harm can come of it.”

So the happy day went on. When evening was fully come, the mother sat with her arm about her daughter and the father told her very gently about the love of the Prince and his wish to make her his queen. “To-morrow you will see him,” said the King, “and if you are willing to be his wife, he will come for you in a year and a day.”

It was easy to see from the face of the Star Princess that the Prince would be welcome when he came. “We will talk more of this in the morning,” said the King, as he kissed his daughter good-night.

The Star Princess went to her own rooms, and after her maids had left her, she was alone for the first time in her life. She drew aside the curtains and stood gazing upon the ocean in the moonlight. She listened to its music. At first it seemed to murmur peacefully to itself. Then she fancied that it sobbed and moaned. Then she heard clearly a sweet voice that called, “Come to me, come, maiden, come to me!” It was a richer, more exquisite melody than she had ever heard before; and as she listened, she found herself answering, “Yes, I will come, I will come.” She went softly down the stairs and out of the door. Every one else in the palace was asleep, and no one hindered her. She slipped down the hillside in the shadows and went nearer and nearer to the shore. The voice still called. Sometimes it was low and gentle, sometimes it was loud and strong; but whether low or loud, it drew the Star Princess toward it as if it were a magic cord. She followed it along the shore until she found herself on a steep cliff that towered far above the sea. The waters beat upon the rocks at its base, the breakers boomed and thundered; but out of all the wild uproar still came that enchanting voice, calling, “Come to me, come to me, come, come!” Straight to the very edge of the cliff went the Star Princess. For a moment she thought of her father and her mother, of the Prince who was coming in the morning to tell her of his love, and she drew back; but the voice called with a bewitching sweetness and charm, “Come, Star Princess, come.” She held out her arms and answered, “Yes, I come,” and sprang from the edge of the cliff.

A triumphant howl rang out above all the roaring of the waters:—

“I have you now, grandchild of a faithless prince, and you shall pay the forfeit of his falseness. You did not see the ocean for eighteen years, but you shall see it now.” And the cruel mermaid, for she it was who had bewitched the Star Princess and drawn her from her home, laughed so savagely and unpityingly that the heart of the maiden almost ceased to beat.

She was alone and in the hands of the wicked mermaid. “Oh, my father, my mother!” she cried. “My Prince, my Prince, save me, save me!” But the mermaid clutched her roughly and dragged her to the palace of her son, the merking who ruled the waters for leagues around.

“Here is the grandchild of the man who scorned my love,” she shrieked. “What shall she suffer? By what death shall she die?”

The merking looked upon the Star Princess. Her eyes were cast down in fear, her hair was wild and tangled, her cheeks were pale, and she trembled with fright, but even then she was beautiful, and the merking said:—

“She is fairer than any of my maidens. She shall not be put to death to-day. I will have her for my wife, and when I am tired of her, then you may torment her and kill her as you will. Come with me, earth maiden.”

“Oh, no, no,” cried the Star Princess. “Let me die! I will never be your wife.”

“It is far too noble a fate for her,” grumbled the cruel mermaid. “Such as she should not have honors like that. Will you be my son’s bride or will you not?” she demanded.

“Oh, no, never, never!” answered the Star Princess, with a shudder.

“Then you shall be tormented with such tortures as you never dreamed of,” cried the mermaid angrily; and she caught hold of the Star Princess to drag her away.

“Not yet,” interposed the merking. “You know how to give hard tasks. Give her a task or two, and she will be glad enough to be free from you and come to me.”

“Tasks she shall have,” declared the mermaid, “and such ones that she will plead and beg to come to you. Come, earth creature,” she called; and, clutching her prisoner, she dragged her away to a horrible cavern full of sea-monsters. To one of them she said, “Go with the earth creature and do not let her out of your sight.” Then she turned to the Star Princess. “My son’s throne needs jewels,” she said. “Go, and within three days bring me ten thousand pearls.”

The Star Princess was in despair; but it was worse, she thought, to be the bride of the merking than even to have the dreadful sea-monster for a jailer, and she followed him meekly.

“Where do you intend to go?” he asked.

“Indeed, I do not know,” she replied.

“Then you may as well stay here,” the sea-monster said, with a horrible grin.

“Oh, I don’t dare,” moaned the Star Princess. “What shall I do! what shall I do!”

Even the sea-monster could not help being just a little sorry for her, and he said grimly:—

“You can come this way if you like. It is better than staying there.” And she followed him gladly, for anything was better than staying with the merking and his mother.

As they went on through the water, she noticed a little sculpin that seemed determined to go with them. It was ugly, indeed, but it kept between her and the sea-monster, and she was grateful. Somehow she felt that the little creature was her friend; and when it came nearer and even touched her hand, she did not draw back, but was glad of its company.

After a long, long while, the sea-monster stopped before a bank of jagged rocks.

“There are the pearl oysters,” it said, “thousands of them. Perhaps you can get them to give up their treasures.” The creature laughed scornfully and added, “You can’t get away very well, and I shall take a nap. Wake me when you get your pearls.”

The Star Princess was in despair, but as soon as the monster was fairly asleep, the little sculpin had something to say.

“Star Princess,” he whispered, “I was once stolen by trolls.” The Star Princess started, for her Prince, too, had met the same fate. “When I was rescued,” continued the sculpin, “the troll was forced to make me three gifts. One of them was that I should have the power to persuade all honest creatures of earth, air, and water to do my will. This ledge is covered with oysters, and I think they will gladly give you their pearls.” He swam close to the ledge and spoke softly to the oysters. In a moment pearls were falling like raindrops. The Star Princess picked them up, and there were far more than ten thousand. She carried them back to the mermaid, and the mermaid cried:—

“So you got the pearls, did you? That was an easy task. How did you like your journey? You shall have another to-morrow.”

When the morning had come, the mermaid said:—

“I wish to know how many grains of sand there are on the beach that lies to the north of my son’s kingdom. One of my creatures shall take you there, and if you do not count aright, then at the end of three days you shall lose one of those blue eyes that you are so proud of. A wooden one is good enough for a girl who cannot use what she has.”

The Star Princess was put in the charge of a sea-monster far more horrible than the one that had gone with her before. “I shall have to show you the way to the beach,” he said, “but you’ll get no other help from me, understand that.”

The Star Princess was in despair, for the friendly sculpin was nowhere to be seen, and how could she ever count all the grains of sand on a beach. When they had come to the shore, she took up a handful of sand and tried to count the grains, but of course it was hopeless.

“You may as well kill me,” she cried to the sea-monster, “for I cannot do this.”

“Oh, the mermaid will kill you in her own way. You need not fear that she will leave you alive,” retorted the sea-monster, and grinned at her most horribly. “Go to work. For three days you are to count grains of sand; but be quiet about it and don’t disturb me.” In two minutes the creature was fast asleep.

Suddenly the Star Princess heard all around her a gentle rustling, as if the softest of the breezes were touching lightly the tiniest leaves of the forest. In a moment she found that it was made by thousands upon thousands of little sand fleas hopping toward her. “Our friend, the sculpin, has asked us to help you,” they said, “and we have been counting as fast as ever we could. Lie down and rest, and in one hour longer, the task will be done.”

When the third day had come, the sea-monster took the maiden back to the mermaid.

“How many grains of sand are on the beach?” the mermaid demanded.

The Star Princess told her, and she had to admit that it was the right number. She was very angry to find that the task had been done, and she actually shrieked with rage. Then she cried, “Will you marry my son, you wretch, or will you go on another journey? You need not think that you will get off from this one so easily. Will you marry him?”

“No, I will not,” declared the Star Princess; and she would not yield even when the mermaid gnashed her teeth in a fury and screamed, “You shall have a task to-morrow that is a task. This is only child’s play.”

When morning had come, the mermaid said:—

“The sharks once rebelled against my son, and he has never punished their leader as he deserved. Go you to the Waters of the Sharks, take their king prisoner, and bring him to me to pay the penalty of his rebellion. One of my people will show you the way.” And she pointed out a sea-monster more dreadful than both the others put together.

The monster led the way, and the Star Princess followed. “Oh, if I could only see my father and my mother once more,” she thought. “How could I think the voice of the mermaid was sweet! I should be so happy if I were only the lowest servant in my father’s house. And the Prince—I wonder—”

“Here you are,” said the monster; “that is, you are as near as I intend to go. I’m not going to risk my head and fins in the Waters of the Sharks. I’ll wait here till the third day, but I rather think the sharks will save me the trouble of carrying you home.”

Now while all this was going on in the Water World, there was the deepest amazement and sorrow in the Island Kingdom, for the Star Princess had disappeared. In the morning of the second day of her nineteenth year, her maids waited and waited for her call. At last they went to her door. It stood ajar, and they could see that she was not in the room. “She is so happy in being free,” they said, “that she has slipped out into the palace gardens to see the world in the early morning.” So they searched the gardens through and through. They ran hither and yon, and looked into every corner of the palace; but no Star Princess was to be seen. Then they went to the King, weeping and wailing and wringing their hands, and cried:—

“O your Majesty, the Star Princess has disappeared! Oh, oh, what shall we do! what shall we do!”

The royal guests were still at the palace, and in three minutes every one of them had heard the distressing news. Then began a search that was a search. Every corner, every crack of the great palace was looked into, not only once but over and over, for each one thought that he might perhaps see something that the others had passed by. Then the gardens were searched and the forests and the fields. All the subjects of the kingdom gave up their work and joined in the hunt. Every inch of the seashore was gone over and over, until it seemed as if some one had looked under every blade of grass and into every mouse-hole. They went to the cliff, of course, but the light steps of the Princess had left no trace, and they could not even guess what had become of her.

The King was heartbroken, and the Queen lay on her bed, moaning her life away; but the young Prince was even more wretched than they. “Her father and mother have had her all those eighteen years,” he said to himself, “but I have found her only to lose her again.”

After the Island Kingdom had been searched through and through, the King sent out every ship in the navy to look for his child, and all the stranger kings and princes whose ships lay at the royal wharves put out to sea to try to find the Star Princess. They sailed north and south and east and west, but they all came back with lowered flags and the same report, “We cannot find her.”

The days passed. The royal guests bade farewell to the sorrowing King and Queen and sailed away to their own kingdoms, all but one, the faithful young Prince. “I cannot leave the place where I first met her,” he said to her parents. “Will you let me stay with you for a time?” Of course they were only too glad to have him; but one morning the young Prince, too, was missing. He had vanished from the Island Kingdom as suddenly as the Star Princess. It was known that he had left his rooms in the palace late in the evening; but this was a thing that he often did, especially on such moonlight nights as the one on which the Princess had vanished. So many times he had been seen pacing to and fro on the sand that no one thought of watching him or of noticing when he returned to the palace.

After he, too, disappeared, the beach was searched as closely as it had been for the Star Princess. The print of his footsteps was seen and they were traced up and down the sand, then to one side toward a high hill. On the path up the hill, little twigs had been broken, and here and there a leaf had been bruised and crushed; and so it was known that he had climbed to the top of the hill. He was traced still farther, to the very edge of a cliff that overhung sharp rocks and a wild commotion of breakers. The people looked upon them sadly and shook their heads. “Poor Prince,” they said, “his love for the Star Princess has made him mad and he has flung himself over the cliff.” But one sage old man, who had seen many strange things in his long life, shook his head and muttered, “Not madness but magic.”

If the breakers that beat on the base of the cliff had chosen to speak, they, too, would have said, “Not madness but magic.” The Prince had gone out on the shore, as he so often went, and that night he heard the same sweet voice that had called the Star Princess into the sea. “Come to me, come to me,” it cried, now low and sweet, now loud and strong, but ever so powerful that even the Prince could hardly resist it. Suddenly, in the midst of the strength and the sweetness, there came a wail that tore his very heart. “My Prince, my Prince,” it said, “save me, save me!” And without a glance behind him he sprang straight off the cliff and into the raging sea.

“Aha, now I have two of you!” shrieked the mermaid with fiendish delight. Then, when she looked upon him more closely and saw how tall and noble and beautiful he was, she hesitated. “I will not tear you limb from limb,” she said. “I have a daughter who will soon take a husband, and if she chooses you, you may live.”

“I will have no false mermaid for a wife,” declared the young Prince, as boldly as if he had still been in the palace of the Island Kingdom.

“You will not?” shrieked the mermaid. “How dare you insult my daughter, you earthborn creature!” She waved her hands to and fro before his face. His eyes closed, and for a moment he was in a deep slumber. When he awoke, the mermaid had gone. He was alone, but he was no longer a handsome young prince; she had put upon him the form of a sculpin.

Prince or sculpin, he had but one thought, to find the Star Princess; and he swam as rapidly as he could, first in one direction, then in another, until he came in sight of the Waterworld den where the mermaid and her monsters dwelt. It was just at the moment when the mermaid was sending out the Star Princess and the sea-monster to find the ten thousand pearls.

“I cannot rescue her yet,” said the Prince to himself, “but at least I can save her from the torments of the mermaid.” So he kept out of sight until the mermaid had gone back into her den. Then he hastened after the Star Princess, and it was he who had kept between her and the monster and who had persuaded the pearl oysters to give her of their pearls. It was he, too, who had induced the sand fleas to count the grains of sand for her. She did not know this, and she had seen no more of him after her first journey. Now she stood in terror, gazing into the Waters of the Sharks. The horrible creatures swam about and dived and rolled over and showed their sharp, white teeth. The Star Princess was in an agony of terror. She could not run away, for the sea-monster was behind her, and he was almost as dreadful as the sharks.

“Go on,” he cried mockingly. “Tell them you want their king. The earth-girl who will not marry our merking is only fit for sharks’ food.”

The Star Princess looked so pitiful and so beautiful that even the sea-monster was as nearly touched as a monster could be. He muttered, “It is rather a pity to have her eaten up.”

Then he called to her:—

“Girl, earth-girl, if you will agree to marry our king, I will take you back without the shark, and if she is angry, I think I know a way to save you.”

“Oh, no, no,” she replied, shuddering. “I can never marry the merking.”

“Then go on and be devoured by the sharks,” growled the monster, “but you may as well be about it. If you keep me waiting much longer, I will eat you myself.”

The Star Princess turned toward the Waters of the Sharks. As she gazed in terror, she saw the ugly little sculpin coming toward her, and behind him swam the whole company of sharks.

“Don’t be afraid,” the sculpin called as they swept by. “Only wait. You are safe.”

The Star Princess waited. She was all alone in the vast ocean, for at the coming of the sharks, the sea-monster had fled for his life. She covered her eyes with her hands for fear she should see something dreadful; but it was not long before she felt a soft touch. It was the friendly sculpin. “Come quick,” he said. “There is not a moment to lose. The sharks are fighting the merking and his monsters. Follow me. Do not be afraid, I can find the way, for the second gift of my troll jailer was that I should never fail to find the place that I sought.”

The little sculpin swam to the land faster than ever sculpin had swum before, and the Princess ran after him faster than ever princess had run before. She dared not glance behind her for fear of seeing some of the horrible creatures. At last they were so far away that the sculpin knew there was no more danger of pursuit. They had come to the shore. There he stopped and said:—

“Star Princess, now you are safe. Rest for a little and then you shall go home to the palace of the Island Kingdom.”

The Star Princess burst into tears of joy. “You have saved me,” she cried. “What shall I do for you? My father is a king and he will give you whatever you ask. He will build a wall around an ocean for you if you wish and drive away from it every creature that would trouble you. He will—” and there she stopped, for, try her best, she could not think of anything else that would be at all likely to please a sculpin.

The ugly little fish replied:—

“Star Princess, my rightful home is not in the sea, but on the land. I was born in a palace larger and more beautiful than that of your father. I fell into the hands of the wicked mermaid, and she threw over me the sculpin form that I now wear.”

“My father has wizards and magicians at his court,” cried the Star Princess eagerly, “and surely some one among them can free you from the mermaid’s power.”

“I am under a power that you alone can free me from,” declared the sculpin. “I am the sovereign of a kingdom larger and richer than your father’s. I am but a little older than yourself. They tell me I am handsome. You can free me if you will stroke my head three times and say—”

“And say what?” cried the Star Princess.

“And say, ‘I promise to marry you as soon as we have come to my father’s palace,’” the sculpin answered.

“Oh, no, no,” cried the Star Princess. “I will do anything but that. I will give you everything I have, and when the kingdom is mine, you shall have that, too, and I will go out into the world and beg my bread, but I cannot marry any one except my own Prince.”

“And are you so sure that he will care to take a portionless bride?” asked the sculpin.

The maiden looked down upon the sand, then out upon the water, then she answered softly:—

“Even if he refused me, I could never marry any one else; but,” she added, “I am sure that he will want me.”

“So am I,” said a manly voice behind her, and, behold, there stood the Prince himself, for the third gift of the troll was that no magic should have power to change his form against his will. He had kept the form of a sculpin for a while because he knew he could be of more service to the Princess in that shape. They sat down on the yellow sand, and he told her the long, long story of his love and his sorrow, of his remaining in her father’s kingdom that he might at least be near the place where he had first seen her, of his pacing up and down the shore and thinking of her, and at last of his springing from the cliff because he was sure that he heard her voice crying, “My Prince, save me, save me!”

“But look about you, my Star Princess,” he said. “Do you not know this shore and this cliff towering over our heads? These waves beat upon the coast of your father’s kingdom. Come, let us go to the palace.”

He took hold of her hand and led her across the sandy shore, up the little hill, over a grassy meadow where flowers sprang up wherever they stepped. Then they went through the woods, where the pathway was soft with pine needles and the air was rich with fragrance, and so on to the palace of the King.

At one of the upper windows stood the Queen, gazing sadly over the water. The King was by her side. His arm was thrown around her, and he seemed to be trying to comfort her. The Prince and the Star Princess waved their hands to them; but they were looking far out to the horizon, and the wanderers were up the hill and into the palace and close beside them before they had any idea that their loneliness was at an end.

Such a welcoming as there was! The Queen wept for the suffering that they had all been through, and she laughed for joy that they were together again. Everybody in the kingdom had a whole year of holidays. The prisoners were set free. There were feasts upon feasts for all who chose to partake of them. The grass was greener, the flowers were brighter. There were such blue skies and such soft little clouds as had never been seen over the land before. The birds no longer stayed in the forest, but came freely into the city. They perched upon windows and fences and balconies and sang more sweetly than ever birds sang before.

After a year and a day of this rejoicing came the wedding of the Prince and the Star Princess. Just as the wedding procession was setting off for the church, some one noticed a great sea-turtle toiling up the hill to the palace.

“I want to see the King,” he called, waving a flipper to call his attention.

The procession waited till the turtle had come up the hill. Then the King went forward cordially, and said:—

“You are welcome, Friend Turtle. Have you come to the wedding?”

“Yes,” the turtle gasped, for he was not used to climbing such high hills, and he had not yet fully caught his breath; “but I have something to say to you. I have just come from the Waterworld, and I have brought you some news.”

“And what is that?” cried the King anxiously, for even now he was afraid of the power of the cruel mermaid.

“The war is ended,” said the turtle. “The merking, the mermaid, and all their monsters are killed and devoured. Neither you nor your Queen nor the Prince nor the Star Princess has an enemy on the land or in the sea.”

Then the bells throughout the whole kingdom rang for joy, the drums beat, the trumpets blew, and the banners waved, all of their own accord.

“Bring another chariot,” ordered the King. Another chariot was brought, and the turtle was helped into it. It took its place just behind the bridal party, and they all rode away to the wedding.

THE END