“Are you ready to pay the price?” said he, nodding gaily to the dwarf.
As he asked the question, the listening water-steeds snorted more furiously than ever.
“Are you ready to pay the price?” said the little man a second time.
A shower of spray, tossed on shore by the angry steeds, drenched the dwarf to the skin, and sent a cold shiver to his bones, and he was so terrified that he could not answer.
“For the third and last time, are you ready to pay the price?” asked the fairy, as he flung the harp behind him and turned to depart.
When the dwarf saw him going he thought of the little princess in the lonely moor, and his courage came back, and he answered bravely:
The water-steeds, hearing his answer, and snorting with rage, struck the shore with their pounding hoofs.
“Back to your waves!” cried the little harper; and as he ran his fingers across his lyre, the frightened steeds drew back into the waters.
“What is the price?” asked the dwarf.