cried, laughing a wicked laugh, "O fool! to give away that
in which your safety lay!" As she spoke she dipped her fingers into a
basin of water that stood near by and dashed the drops into the prince's
face. "Be a raven," she cried, "and a raven remain!"

In an instant the prince was a prince no longer, but a coal-black raven.
The queen snatched up a sword that lay near by and struck at him to kill
him. But the raven-prince leaped aside and the blow missed its aim.

By good luck a window stood open, and before the queen could strike
again he spread his wings and flew out of the open casement and over the
house-tops and was gone.

On he flew and on he flew until he came to the old man's house, and so
to the room where his foster-father himself was sitting. He lit upon the
ground at the old man's feet and tried to tell him what had befallen,
but all that he could say was "Croak! croak!"

"What brings this bird of ill omen?" said the old man, and he drew his
sword to kill it. He raised his hand to strike, but the raven did not
try to fly away as he had expected, but bowed his neck to receive the
stroke. Then the old man saw that the tears were running down from the
raven's eyes, and he held his hand. "What strange thing is this?" he
said. "Surely nothing but the living soul weeps; and how, then, can this
bird shed tears?" So he took the raven up and looked into his eyes, and
in them he saw the prince's soul. "Alas!" he cried, "my heart misgives
me that something strange has happened. Tell me, is this not my
foster-son, the prince?"

The raven answered "Croak!" and nothing else; but the good old man
understood it all, and the tears ran down his cheeks and trickled over
his beard. "Whether man or raven, you shall still be my son," said he,
and he held the raven close in his arms and caressed it.

He had a golden cage made for the bird, and every day he would walk with
it in the garden, talking to it as a father talks to his son.

One day when they were thus in the garden together a strange lady came
towards them down the pathway. Over her had and face was drawn a thick
veil, so that the two could not tell who she was. When she came close to
them she raised the veil, and the raven-prince saw that her face was the
living likeness of the queen's; and yet there was something in it that
was different. It was the second sister of the queen, and the old man
knew her and bowed before her.

"Listen," said she. "I know what t