ered them their darkness was immediately lit up by
the radiance of the crown which he carried. So well had the Breton lad
attended to the horses under his charge that the other squires had
become jealous, and, observing the strange light in N'Oun Doare's part
of the stable, they mentioned it to the King, who in turn spoke of it
to the Marquis of Coat-Squiriou. The Marquis asked N'Oun Doare the
meaning of the light, and the youth replied that it came from the
ancient sword they had bought at Morlaix, which was an enchanted
weapon and shone at intervals with strange brilliance. But one night
his enemies resolved to examine into the matter more closely, and,
looking through the keyhole of the stable, they saw that the wondrous
light which had so puzzled them shone from a magnificent crown of
gold. They ran at once to tell the King, and next night N'Oun Doare's
stable was opened with a master-key and the crown removed to the
King's quarters. It was then seen that an inscription was engraved
upon the diadem, but in such strange characters that no one could read
it. The magicians of the capital were called into consultation, but
none of them could decipher the writing. At last a little boy of seven
years of age was found who said that it was the crown of the Princess
Golden Bell. The King then called upon N'Oun Doare to approach, and
said to him:

"You should not have hidden this thing from me, but as you are guilty
of having done so I doom you to find the Princess Golden Bell, whom I
desire shall become my wife. If you fail I shall put you to death."

N'Oun Doare left the royal presence in a very perturbed state of mind.
He went to seek his old mare with tears in his eyes.

"I know," said the mare, "the cause of your sorrow. You should have
left the golden crown alone, as I told you. But do not repine; go to
the King and ask him for money for your journey."

The lad received the money from the King, and set out on his journey.
Arriving at the seashore, one of the first objects he beheld was a
little fish cast up by the waves on the beach and almost at its last
gasp.

"Throw that fish back into the water," said the mare. N'Oun Doare did
so, and the fish, lifting its head from the water, said:

"You have saved my life, N'Oun Doare. I am the King of the Fishes, and
if ever you require my help call my name by the seashore and I will
come." With these words the Fish-King vanished beneath the water.

A little later they ca