And one evening as he wandered wondering he heard a little, sharp, thin voice say:
‘Sep. I’ve got it.’
‘What?’ asked Sep, forgetting his manners.
‘I’ve got it,’ said a big mussel on a rock close by him, ‘the magic stone that the Magician does his enchantments with. He dropped it out of his mouth and I shut my shells on it—and now he’s sweeping up and down the sea like a mad fish, looking for it—for he knows he can never change into anything else unless he gets it back. Here, take the nasty thing, it’s making me feel quite ill.’
It opened its shells wide, and Sep saw a pearl. He reached out his hand and took it.
‘That’s better,’ said the mussel, washing its shells out with salt water.
‘Can I do magic with it?’ Sep eagerly asked.
‘No,’ said the mussel sadly, ‘it’s of no use to any one but the owner. Now, if I were you, I’d get into a boat, and if your friend the wind will help us, I believe we really can do the trick.’
‘I’m at your service, of course,’ said the wind, getting up instantly.
The mussel whispered to the wind, who rushed off at once; and Sep launched his boat.