Where is the Weaver of the Cloak?" inquired the Elf. "There is work for
him to do."

Instantly a very ancient elf separated himself from his companions, and
came to stand before the Elf of the Borderland. "I am ready, master," he
said.

"The Cloak is to be for this Prince," the Elf told him. "Use your best
skill in the weaving, so that it may be potent against his enemies, for
much depends upon it."

"It will not fail him, master," responded the Weaver confidently. His
keen old eyes swept the Prince from head to foot. He needed to take no
other measure. Then he turned to a dim loom beside the wall, and
standing before it, he began to spread the fairy warp under the watchful
eye of the Elf. As he did so the elves came hurrying noiselessly with
the magic ash which was to fill it.

Deftly the Weaver began to weave, crooning the mystic weaving-song
meanwhile, so that the magic of its words might sink into every part of
the Cloak, and make its power certain. He feared not to weave it under
the eyes of him who should receive it, for he knew well that he who
wears the Cloak, may see it woven, and hear the song, but no sooner has
the Cloak fallen upon his shoulders than he forgets what his eyes had
beheld and his ears heard. Thus the secret of the ancient Weaver remains
with the elves of the Borderland.

Steadily the Cloak of Ash grew under the skilful hands of the Weaver,
steadily the Prince watched the shuttle come and go. Never once did the
ancient Weaver rest; never once did he cease to sing his mystic song,
nor did the elves pause as they came and went, bringing the magic ash
for the Cloak's fashioning.

At last the moment came when the Weaver's shuttle stopped, the song
ceased and the elves stood still. The Elf turned to the Prince. "The
Cloak is finished," he said.

He bent down and lifted it soft and silvery from the loom, and Prince
Ember stretched eager hands to receive it.

[Illustration: Prince Ember stretched eager hands to receive it.]

"Give heed to my words," the Elf admonished him, as he delivered it to
him. "In the Cave of Darkness only will you be endangered by the spells
of the Wizard himself. There only he has power, and he never leaves its
shelter and the weapons of enchantment which it contains. But in the
lands without he has powerful and evil friends, who will not be slow to
help him against his enemies if he desires it. From all but one of these
the Cloak will conceal you."

The Elf paused