ommon in those countries, and of which
their poets often sing--he would pass whole months together in the
garb of a peasant, piping in the woods and mountains and pasturing
his flocks. Here one day three beautiful sorceresses appeared to him,
disputing about a golden apple; and from him they sought to know which
of them was the most beautiful, since to her the golden fruit was to be
awarded. The first knew how to give thrones, and sceptres, and crowns;
the second could give wisdom and knowledge; and the third could prepare
philtres and love-charms which could not fail of securing the affections
of the fairest of women. Each one in turn proffered her choicest gifts
to the young shepherd, in order that, tempted by them, he might adjudge
the apple to her. But as fair women charmed him more than anything else
in the world, he said that the third was the most beautiful--her name
was Venus. The two others departed in great displeasure; but Venus
bid him put on his knightly armour and his helmet adorned with waving
feathers, and then she led him to a famous city called Sparta, where
ruled the noble Duke Menelaus. His young Duchess Helen was the loveliest
woman on earth, and the sorceress offered her to Paris in return for
the golden apple. He was most ready to have her and wished for nothing
better; but he asked how he was to gain possession of her."

"Paris must have been a sorry knight," interrupted Sintram. "Such things
are easily settled. The husband is challenged to a single combat, and he
that is victorious carries off the wife."

"But Duke Menelaus was the host of the young knight," said the narrator.

"Listen to me, little Master," cried Sintram; "he might have asked the
sorceress for some other beautiful woman, and then have mounted his
horse, or weighed anchor, and departed."

"Yes, yes; it is very easy to say so," replied the old man. "But if you
only knew how bewitchingly lovely this Duchess Helen was, no room was
left for change." And then he began a glowing description of the charms
of this wondrously beautiful woman, but likening the image to Gabrielle
so closely, feature for feature, that Sintram, tottering, was forced to
lean against a tree. The little Master stood opposite to him grinning,
and asked, "Well now, could you have advised that poor knight Paris to
fly from her?"

"Tell me at once what happened next," stammered Sintram.

"The sorceress acted honourably towards Paris," continued the old man.
"