Cruel water.
Drive from land her,
Salamander!”
The witch laughed loudly, and the wave rolled on, amid the lamentations sounding from the city below, when suddenly, in the place where the Fountain of Jewels had been, a tall flame shot up, and out of it flashed Salamander, glowing like a beautiful crimson star.
“Foamina, beware!” he cried, shaking a torch which he held in his hand; “or I will burn up your springs, scorch your forests, and crush you for ever.”
“No, you won’t,” said Foamina, flinging her white arms aloft. “This shepherd is mine—mine! and you can do nothing.”
“Can’t I?” cried Salamander, waving his torch. “Behold!”
There was a great roar, like the report of a thousand cannons, and every one looked through the open window with a cry of alarm.
Far away, from the snowy peak of Kel shot a tall column of red flame, with a black cloud above it spreading over the midnight sky, and vividly bright streams of burning lava began to run down the white snow like veins of fire.
“Oh, my springs, my springs!” shrieked Foamina wildly; “they will all be burned up, and I’ll die—I can’t put that fire out.”