pure and still at dawn. As soon as the sun rose the swans
flew off with Elise, away from the islet. The sea still ran high; it
looked from where they were as if the white foam on the dark green
water were millions of swans floating on the waves.

[Illustration: Elise saw an ice palace, with one bold colonnade
built above another]

When the sun rose higher Elise saw before her, half floating in the
air, great masses of ice, with shining glaciers on the heights. A
palace was perched midway a mile in length, with one bold colonnade
built above another. Beneath them swayed palm-trees and gorgeous
blossoms as big as mill wheels. She asked if this was the land to
which she was going, but the swans shook their heads, because what she
saw was a mirage--the beautiful and ever-changing palace of Fata
Morgana. No mortal dared enter it. Elise gazed at it; but as she gazed
the palace, gardens, and mountains melted away, and in their place
stood twenty proud churches with their high towers and pointed
windows. She seemed to hear the notes of the organ, but it was the sea
she heard. When she got close to the seeming churches they changed to
a great navy sailing beneath her; but it was only a sea mist passing
before her eyes, and now she saw the real land she was bound to.
Beautiful blue mountains rose before her with their cedar woods and
palaces. Long before the sun went down she sat among the hills in
front of a big cave covered with delicate green creepers. It looked
like a piece of embroidery.

"Now we shall see what you will dream here to-night," said the
youngest brother, as he showed her where she was to sleep.

"If only I might dream how I could deliver you," she said, and this
thought filled her mind entirely. She prayed earnestly to God for His
help, and even in her sleep she continued her prayer. It seemed to her
that she was flying up to Fata Morgana in her castle in the air. The
fairy came towards her; she was charming and brilliant, and yet she
was very like the old woman who gave her the berries in the wood and
told her about the swans with the golden crowns.

"Your brothers can be delivered," she said; "but have you courage and
endurance enough for it? The sea is indeed softer than your hands, and
it molds the hardest stones; but it does not feel the pain your
fingers will feel. It has no heart, and does not suffer the pain and
anguish you must feel. Do you see this stinging nettle I hold in my
hand? M