company of the talented harpist, whose sweet music enchanted her and made her forget her terrible doom. Her demon husband also professed to admire the skill of the musician, saying,—
"I am a great lover of good music, and I must confess that I consider your harpist to be a real artist. I am glad you brought him with you."
Three years passed, and one day the Prince came to his wife when she was listening to the strains of the harp. He listened for awhile, and then standing up cried aloud,—
"Enough! Now, dear wife, your time to depart hence has come."
"What do you mean?" she cried with terror in her eyes.
"You must come away from this home."
"Whither must I go?"
"You must go to Hell," said he with a horrible grin on his handsome face.
The unfortunate Princess knew that to resist would be madness. She arose and said, "I am ready, lead on." Her husband went in front of her and she followed with a heavy heart. She recalled her past life and regretted her folly in refusing to listen to the many good men who had desired to win her hand. "I was blind," she murmured, "not to see the real and true men. I am now reaping the harvest of my sin. I rejected the genuine and now I have the sham."
