“Call Grifescorne, King of the Demons, to your assistance,” suggested the wise mare.
With the aid of the Demon-King and his subjects N’Oun Doare’s task was again accomplished, and he and his mare followed the demon army to Paris, where they arrived as soon as it did.
In the morning the people of Paris were struck dumb to see a wonderful palace, its golden towers flashing in the sun, rising opposite to the royal residence.
“We shall be married at last, shall we not?” asked the King.
“Yes,” replied the Princess, “but how shall I enter my château and show you its wonders without a key, for I dropped it in the sea when N’Oun Doare and his horse carried me over it.”
Once more was the youth charged with the task, and through the aid of the Fish-King was able to procure the key, which was cut from a single diamond. None of the fishes had seen it, but at last the oldest fish, who had not appeared when his name was pronounced, came forward and produced it from his mouth.
With a glad heart the successful N’Oun Doare returned to Paris, and as the Princess had now no more excuses to make the day of the wedding was fixed and the ceremony was celebrated with much splendour. To the astonishment of all, when the King and his betrothed entered the church N’Oun Doare followed behind with his mare. At the conclusion of the ceremony the mare’s skin suddenly fell to the ground, disclosing a maiden of the most wonderful beauty.
Smiling upon the bewildered N’Oun Doare, the damsel gave him her hand and said: “Come with me to Tartary, for the king of that land is my father, and there we shall be wed amid great rejoicing.”
Leaving the amazed King and wedding guests, the pair quitted the church together. More might have been told of them, but Tartary is a far land and no news of them has of late years reached Brittany.