Suddenly, and before Beautiful could hinder him, he drew her to him and breathed upon her eyelids; at the same time he muttered the words of a magic charm.
At once the Princess felt her senses leaving her. In vain she strove to move or speak. In spite of herself her eyes closed, and she sank softly to the ground in a deep sleep.
As soon as the dwarf saw that his charm had worked he caused a dark cloud to gather about him, which entirely hid him from view. Rising in this cloud, he floated high above the iron walls and paused directly over Prince Dobrotek. He drew his sword and made ready to slay the bold Prince who had come against him.
Dobrotek looked up and wondered to see the dark cloud that had so suddenly gathered above him.
“Beware!” cried the wild horse loudly. “It is the dwarf. He is about to strike.”
Scarcely had he spoken when the darkness drew down about them. Through this darkness shot a flash as bright as lightning. It was the dwarf’s sword that had struck at the Prince. But swift as the stroke was, the horse was no less swift. He sprang aside, and the sword drove so deep into the earth that the dwarf was not able to draw it out again.
“Strike! Strike!” cried the horse to Dobrotek. “It is your chance!”
Dobrotek raised the Sword of Sharpness and struck into the cloud, and his blow was so sharp and true that the dwarf’s head was cut from his body and fell at the Prince’s feet.
Dobrotek alighted, and cutting off the dwarf’s beard, he wound it about him like a glittering golden belt. Then, leaving the head where it lay, he opened the gate and went into the garden.