Prince Erian had been awaiting their return, tortured by the agony of suspense. It is impossible to describe his joy in beholding once more the beautiful lady of his dreams. He laughed and sang and seemed almost beside himself. He could scarcely keep his eyes off the Princess even for a moment. Suddenly there came a knocking at the door.
Blam—blam! Blam!
"Come in!" said the Prince Erian.
It was the King of the Magicians who entered. He smiled mockingly.
"Ah, well, my heroes!" he exclaimed, "are you as joyous to-day as you were yesterday at this hour, and can you present the Princess to me?"
"It is my pleasure to do so," said Prince Erian, with mock courtesy. "Behold the Princess here!"
The Sorcerer grew pale with anger, and his eyes shot forth fire. A second band of iron fell from his waist and broke.
"One day still remains, and this time we shall see who is the conqueror," said Magor, furious with rage. Thus speaking he retired to an apartment in his palace, where he remained throughout the day, scheming to outwit Prince Erian and his companions. He now realized that he had met adversaries who were dangerous, and he knew that the contest of the next day would be final. What could he do to hide the beautiful captive? At last he thought he had found a way and a sigh of relief escaped his lips.
Meanwhile Prince Erian and his companions were taking counsel together. They were filled with anxiety. They knew that the King of the Magicians would use all his art to carry off and conceal the beautiful Princess. They knew, too, that if they failed to find her their fate was sealed. They would take their places among the unfortunate knights who had been transformed into statues.