“It is true, very true that this is he, little King Loc,” replied Honey-Bee. “See, all you little men, how I laugh and how happy I am.”
And she began to weep. Her tears fell on her lover’s face, but they were tears of joy; and with them were mingled tiny bursts of laughter and a thousand endearing words without sense, like the lisp of a little child. She quite forgot that the sight of her joy might sadden the heart of King Loc.
“My beloved,” said George, “I find you again such as I had longed for: the fairest and dearest of beings. You love me! Thank heaven, you love me! But, Honey-Bee, do you not also love King Loc a little, who delivered me out of the glass dungeon in which the nixies held me captive far away from you?”
Honey-Bee turned to King Loc.
“Little King Loc, and did you do this?” she cried. “You loved me, and yet you rescued the one I love and who loves me——”
Words failed her and she fell on her knees, her head in her hands.
All the little men who witnessed this scene deluged their cross-bows with tears. Only King Loc remained serene. And Honcy-Bee, overcome by his magnanimity and his goodness, felt for him the love of a daughter for a father.
She took her lover’s hand.
“George,” she said, “I love you. God knows how much I love you. But how can I leave little King Loc?”
“Hallo, there?” King Loc cried in a terrible voice, “now you are my prisoners!”