reward, and that the two eldest princesses should become their wives.

And now we must see what poor Bensurdatu was doing.

He waited patiently a long, long time, but when the rope never came back
he knew he had been wrong, and that his comrades had betrayed him. 'Ah,
now I shall never reach the world again,' murmured he; but being a brave
man, and knowing that moaning his fate would profit him nothing, he rose
and began to search through the three halls, where, perhaps, he might
find something to help him. In the last one stood a dish, covered with
food, which reminded him that he was hungry, and he sat down and ate and
drank.

Months passed away, when, one morning, as he was walking through the
halls, he noticed a purse hanging on the wall, which had never been
there before. He took it down to examine it, and nearly let it fall with
surprise when a voice came from the purse saying: 'What commands have
you?'

'Oh, take me out of this horrible place, and up into the world again;'
and in a moment he was, standing by the river bank, with the purse
tightly grasped in his hand.

'Now let me have the most beautiful ship that ever was built, all manned
and ready for sea.' And there was the ship, with a flag floating from
its mast on which were the words, 'King with the three crowns.' Then
Bensurdatu climbed on board, and sailed away to the city where the three
princesses dwelt; and when he reached the harbour he blew trumpets and
beat drums, so that every one ran to the doors and windows. And the king
heard too, and saw the beautiful vessel, and said to himself: 'That must
indeed be a mighty monarch, for he has three crowns while I have only
one.' So he hastened to greet the stranger, and invited him to his
castle, for, thought he, 'this will be a fine husband for my youngest
daughter.' Now, the youngest princess had never married, and had turned
a deaf ear to all her wooers.

Such a long time had passed since Bensurdatu had left the palace, that
the king never guessed for a moment that the splendidly clad stranger
before him was the man whom he had so deeply mourned as dead. 'Noble
lord,' said he, 'let us feast and make merry together, and then, if it
seem good to you, do me the honour to take my youngest daughter to
wife.'

And Bensurdatu was glad, and they all sat down to a great feast, and
there were great rejoicings. But only the youngest daughter was sad, for
her thoughts were with Bensurdatu. After they arose