“A pleasant journey,” cried King Loc, in a gruff voice.
Now it happened that these steps of the dwarfs adjoined a deserted stone quarry less than a mile from the castle of Clarides.
“This young lad,” King Loc murmured as he went on his way, “has neither the wisdom nor the wealth. Truly I cannot imagine why Honey-Bee loves him, unless it is because he is young, handsome, faithful and brave.”
As he went back to the town he laughed to himself as a man does who has done some one a good turn. As he passed Honey-Bee’s cottage he thrust his big head into the open window just as he had thrust it into the crystal tunnel, and he saw the young girl, who was embroidering a veil with silver flowers.
“I wish you joy, Honey-Bee,” he cried.
“And you also, little King Loc, seeing you have nothing to wish for and nothing to regret.”
He had much to wish for, but, indeed, he had nothing to regret. And it was probably this which gave him such a good appetite for supper. Having eaten a huge number of truffled pheasants he called Bob.
“Bob,” said he, “mount your raven; go to the Princess of the Dwarfs and tell her that George or Blanchelande, long a captive of the nixies, has this day returned to Clarides.”
Thus he spoke and Bob flew off on his raven.