"But you could still go home," said the genie. "You could go home in such magnificence as you never dreamed of, with outriders and trumpeters and dressed in cloth of gold and precious stones."
But the thought of such magnificence frightened Ellen. "No, no," she repeated. "I'm afraid my mother wouldn't like it."
The genie looked disappointed. "Well," he said, "Of course, it's just as you like." He was still fading away and growing more mistlike.
"I wish," Ellen exclaimed, "that Aladdin knew what had become of the lamp."
"Thy wish shall be granted," answered the genie. "I will myself tell him that it has been destroyed. And now farewell, and remember if thou shouldst ever wish to have that castle thou needst only clap thy hands three times and call upon the genie of the lamp to fulfil his promise and it shall be thine."
The genie had grown so transparent now that it was only by straining her eyes that Ellen could still see his shape as one sees an empty glass. Then he was gone entirely. "Thank you very much," she called after him. She waited a moment and as there was no answer she called again, "Thank you!" Then she turned to the gander. "I think he's gone," she said, adding in a whisper, "and I'm glad he has, because he did frighten me a little, he was so very big and black."
The gander made no answer except to ask Ellen if she were ready to go. He seemed anxious for them to be on their way once more, so the little girl mounted on his back and they were soon flying swiftly along.
"I hope," said Ellen after a silence, "that Aladdin won't mind about the lamp being burned up."
"I should think he would be glad," replied the gander. "He must have been terribly afraid all the time that enemies would get it and make the genie destroy him and his castle."