"If he was a king, why could he not command the spirit to obey him?" broke in the sick girl, angrily.
"Ah, my dearest, the spirit is so powerful that no king can control him."
"And no emperor?"
"No, not even emperor. No one has power over him; but he has power over every one. There is no locking him up or shutting him out, for he can penetrate everywhere. He has no material weight, yet can suffocate; carries no sword, yet can kill."
"What a good thing that the spirits only live on the Caspian Sea!"
"When the king heard this he began to entreat the spirit not to take his beloved daughter from him so soon; to grant her to him yet another year. 'Very well,' said the spirit, 'I will leave you your daughter a year longer if you will promise to give me your thumb in exchange.' The king cared nothing about his thumb, so he promised, and the spirit took his departure. At the lapse of a year the spirit came again either to take the princess or the king's thumb. The king loved his daughter very dearly, but he also valued his thumb, for without it he would not be able to draw a bow. So again he entreated the spirit that he might grant her to him only one year more. 'Be it so,' returned the spirit, 'I will leave her to you another year, but then either I will take her away or you will give me your right hand.' And the king again closed the bargain. A year passed, and the spirit came a third time. The king would neither give up his child, nor would he part from his right hand. Thereupon the spirit demanded the king's whole arm as forfeit."
"But, then, do the spirits never die?" asked Sophie.
"No, darling, the spirits live forever. Well, the king promised him his arm—if by that means he might save his child—and his hand. And from year to year the spirit came back, demanding ever more and more as forfeit-money. At last he obtained promise of the king's head and heart. And when the king's whole body belonged to him he said, 'This is the last year. Now I shall either carry off your daughter or you must promise me your shadow.' Upon which the king replied, 'No; I will give you no more. Take what is yours; but neither my daughter nor my shadow shall you have.' Thereupon the spirit left him amid loud claps of thunder. The next day was fine and sunny, and the king set out for a pleasure sail upon the sea. Suddenly a violent storm arose, and engulfed both ship and king in the waves. His body was never found. His daughter still lived on; and every evening, when the sun was going down, she saw a shadow draw near to her—the shadow of a man with a kingly crown upon his head; and as the shadow glided past her it seemed to her as if she felt a kiss upon her cheek, and as if her cheek became rosy red."
The Czar had grown thoughtful. That king, whose shadow alone wandered upon the face of the earth, was so like to himself. And Sophie, too, thought that she was like the king's daughter—kissed every evening by a kingly shadow.
Bethsaba, however, added, playfully, "We have so many such legends with us. I could tell you more than a hundred."