"She returned to the cave to her poet and found him also changed into a crow. But this did not spoil their love for each other. They lived happily in the cave for years and years, and they had many children. There are thousands of black crows flying about the cave, shrieking and cawing. These are the descendants of the poet and the poor fairy."
Tom shuddered.
"A very good place from which to keep away!" he laughed.
"Oh, no," replied Philippe. "On the contrary, I should like to go there. I should like to go," he added mysteriously, "because it is said that whoever spends a night in the cave will find a bag of gold in the morning."
Tom's eyes sparkled. Philippe's heart beat quickly.
He continued, "Yes, it is believed that robbers once buried a bag of gold in the cave. Anyone who is brave enough to spend a night there may have it."
Tom smiled, but looked doubtful.
"Let us go there, sir," suggested Philippe. "In the morning you shall find that bag of gold."
Tom thought awhile but did not reply. The boy nearly cried out in eagerness. Oh, if only the man would consent to do this thing!
