At length, choked with grief he bowed his head upon her breast. If he had reached her, and freed her, only to lose her thus, he had no wish left except to die by her side.
A fierce tug at his arm aroused him. “Do you not know that a Fire Fairy cannot exist in the Borderland?” demanded an indignant voice. “Take her back to the Fire at once, and warm her back to life.”
Prince Radiance fell on his knees before her.
The Prince raised his head, and saw at his elbow a fuzzy little creature, who clutched and shook him with a pudgy hand. It was an Elf of the Borderland.
“Come, come,” cried the Elf, “bestir yourself, or it will be too late.”
Quickly the Prince bent over Princess White Flame to raise her in his arms, but before he could do so the Elf had laid a fuzzy ear to the heart of the unconscious Princess.
“Ah, me,” he murmured, lifting his head, and regarding the Prince mournfully, “I fear she can never live to reach there. She should have warmth at this very moment.”
Hardly had the Elf spoken, when Prince Radiance remembered his good Grey Pouch. He tore it open, took out a glowing coal quickly, and laid it over the heart of the Princess. What was his joy to see an exquisite roseate glow steal into her face, to feel her hand grow warm under its fairy touch. Then as it lay there warm against her heart, the eyes of the Princess opened slowly to behold Prince Radiance bending above her; her ears awoke to his voice calling tenderly, “White Flame, my own White Flame!”