is as it should be!" And the old woman broke into a cackling laugh.
"How can that be?" cried Ananda crossly, for she was quite bewildered.
"Because, my dear, yonder princely stranger is the white bird himself in his right and proper form."
Ananda could only gasp with amazement, and the crone continued, "He is bewitched, that is all!" And then she moved off as if she had done with the subject, but Ananda ran after her and, catching her by the sleeve, made her stop.
"Tell me! Tell me!" she cried. "Can I not break the spell? Is there no way in which I can keep him in his right form?"
"Let me go!" snapped the old woman. "Yes, of course there is a way! Go home at once, before he can reach there, and you will find his gold cage and perch and bird feathers in a corner of the vaulted room. Take these and burn them; then when he comes back, he will keep his man form forever."
