, and we will
start immediately."

Princess Sidigunda got up, and taking the Crab-herd's hand, they set
off down the road towards the mountains.

As they reached the foot of the grey cliffs, the Crab-boy unfolded a
pair of fin-like wings from his elbows, and began to swim
upwards--leaving the little Princess with her arms stretched out
imploringly towards him.

"Oh, _don't_ leave me here by myself!" she cried. "I shall never find
my way to the Sea-grandmother!"

"Why there she is, just above us in that cave in the side of the
mountain," said the Crab-boy. "Don't you see her beautiful white hair,
and the flash of her knitting-needles?"

The Princess looked up, and there sat a beautiful old lady in a hole
in the rock, high, high above them. A crowd of Sea-children played
about her, and seemed to be carrying away the cloud-like white
knitting as fast as it flowed from her busy fingers.

She bent her head towards Sidigunda, and nodded to her, without
ceasing her work for a moment.

"Come, Princess, and talk to me!" she called in a sweet, low voice.
"Take your shoe off, and it will bring you here in a moment."

Sidigunda did as she was told--for the old lady spoke as if she were
used to being obeyed without question--and found herself floating
upwards, until she alighted on a broad ledge right in front of the
Sea-grandmother.

"So you have come all this way to find your golden shoe?" the old lady
said in her clear, even voice. "Sit down, and tell me all about it."

The Princess thought the Sea-grandmother's face young and lovely. It
was smooth and unwrinkled; eyes clear as crystal, with blue depths in
them, shining out with a soft benign look; while her slim hands turned
and twisted unceasingly, and her long green dress fell round her in
wave-like folds.

Her smile was so soft and kind, that the Princess felt as if she had
known her all her life.

"I have sent for your shoe, my child," she said. "Those tiresome
grandchildren of mine give me a great deal of trouble. I can't keep my
eyes on all of them at once, and so they are always in mischief!"

Sidigunda looked up in the gentle face; and sat down confidingly
beside the Sea-grandmother.

"Do you always knit so busily, Grandmother?" she said, as she watched
the white foamy fabric float off the needles.

"Of course, child. I have been working like this for thousands and
thousands of years. Who do you imagine would provide the waves with
nightcaps if _I_ e