Still the Prince went on in haste, seeking someone who could tell him where it might be found. The faint cracking of boughs struck on his ear, and going to the place from whence it came, he saw a Fire Fairy, pruning a glittering shrub.
“Tell me,” he cried, “where shall I find the flame that was singing yonder, the flame with the wonderful voice?”
The fairy paused in his work, and regarded the Prince curiously. “Can it be,” inquired he slowly, “that you have not heard of the Princess White Flame?”
“I saw no Princess,” answered Radiance, “but I heard a voice of magical beauty that seemed to come from a pure white flame.”
“Ah,” replied the Fire Fairy, “that is indeed our dear Princess. A flame she is, and a flame she must remain, until that prince comes at last who alone can set her free.” Then he told Prince Radiance the story of the spell that had been cast upon her in her cradle; told him of the wondrous Veil that lay hidden in the Wise One’s ancient chest; told him also of the many princes who had vainly sought to see it, that they might deliver the Princess.
“I, too, must go,” exclaimed Prince Radiance. “Who knows but I may be more fortunate than they. Tell me at once where this Wise One is to be found.”
Filled with the hope that this at last might be the true prince, the fairy told him exactly how to find the Wise One’s hut, and the Prince hurried away.
He had not gone far, however, when what was his joy to hear once more, soft and faint at first, but clearer and stronger as he proceeded, that voice that had so charmed him a little while before.
Eagerly, scarce daring to breathe, lest he should startle the Princess, and drive her from him, the Prince hastened toward her.
She was poised at the foot of a great fire-oak, her flame seeming to wax or wane as the music rose or fell.