ing that he knew quite well all that his house contained.
"Remember your promise," said the voice of the invisible being, "or you will repent of it.”
At these words the claws relaxed their hold. The King remounted his horse, and continued his journey. When he arrived near to his capital, all the people hurried forward to meet him, and made the air ring with their shouts and cries of delight. On the threshold of the palace was the Queen, and near her was a Minister holding in his arms a cradle in which there was a baby, a rosy and superb boy.
The King gave a start on seeing it.
"That," he said, "is the thing about which I knew nothing, and with which I must part!"
And great tears ran down his cheeks. Without revealing to anyone the cause of his cruel emotion, he carried the child to his chamber. Afterwards he tried to continue his customary mode of life, and the pleasant and peaceful course of his reign: a vain endeavour—ceaselessly he was haunted by the memory of the fatal promise he had given.
At every instant, day and night, he trembled lest someone should come and carry off from him his peerless treasure, his only and so long-desired son.
Little by little, however, the recollection became less tormenting, his fears less acute. His son grew up, and everybody admired his grace and strength; he was loved, too, and universally called "Handsome Milan."
One day, while hunting, he allowed himself to be drawn far away from his companions, in pursuit of a wild animal, and presently found himself alone in the midst of a dense forest, where neither path nor of sign human life was visible. In a sort of clearing, surrounded by pine trees, stood a tall lime tree thickly leaved. Suddenly the foliage of this tree became agitated, and from the bole came forth a strange old man, with green eyes and a round chin. He advanced towards the young huntsman, and said:
"Good-day, Prince Milan. I have for a long time been hoping to see you."
"Who are you?" asked the Prince.
"You shall know that later. For the present, go back to your father, and tell him to make haste to pay his debt. Good-bye, till we meet again."
The old man disappeared. The Prince returned to the palace, and hastened to relate his adventure to the King.
"From the bole came forth a strange old man."
"Oh!" cried the King, pale and trembling. "What a misfortune! My dear son, we must part!"
And, weeping, he told him the terrible promise he had given.
"Do not weep, good father!" replied Milan. "The evil, I am sure, is not irremediable. Have a horse got ready for me, and I will set off—to return speedily, I hope. Tell nobody our secret, least of all my mother, whom it would greatly distress.
