sket at once. He snapped the lid of it and locked it with a small and
twisted key which he drew from his garments. This done, he gave his
attention to his visitor.

"What is your errand, Black Shadow?" he demanded, leaning back in his
chair, and composing himself to listen.

"I bring strange news," she replied, taking the seat before him to which
he had waved her. "Creeping Shadow has returned from the Land of Fire,
bringing word that a prince is on his way to deliver the Shadow Witch
from your hands."

"A prince?" exclaimed the Wizard, starting forward in astonishment.

"Even so," answered Black Shadow.

"Tell me not that it is Prince Radiance," he cried vehemently, for
anguish seized him at the memory of the Sword of Flames.

"Nay," returned she. "It is a stranger prince, Ember by name, who knows
not this land, nor the dangers which lie in wait for him here. What
weapons of defence he possesses, or what his magic, we cannot guess.
This only I can tell you, he is in the home of the Elf of the Borderland
at this moment, there to obtain, perhaps, some gift, or some instruction
which will make him proof against us. Whether or not Creeping Shadow
speaks falsely, she has declared to me that she knows nothing concerning
his business with the Elf."

"I have no fear of anyone so small and peaceable as the Elf of the
Borderland," laughed the Wizard contemptuously. "It could not be in his
power to bestow a gift of any worth. As for the prince--my servants shall
redouble their vigilance at the Cave Mouth. He cannot pass them."

"Be not too sure of that," Black Shadow warned him. "Of the magic of
these fairies of the Fire we know nothing. If he possesses some
enchantment by which he can pass your guards unseen, if he should find
and liberate your sister, and escape with her from your Cave--what then?
Shall one who has foiled you thus be allowed to return unmolested to his
own land?"

For a short space the Wizard sat plunged in thought, for he knew well
that beyond the boundaries of his Cave he had no power. But presently he
spoke. "I have friends who will prevent that," he declared confidently.
"Curling Smoke waits but the word to engage himself against any who come
from the Land of Fire. The Ash Goblin needs no urging against my sister.
Too often she has made sport of him, until he has not known which way to
turn for anger. And as to the Wind in the Chimney, merely to speak to
him is to gain his consent to swoop down at