ts, and shut himself up under lock and
key. With a trembling hand he filled a golden cup, set with rubies,
which had belonged to his mother, with water, and opened the magic
knife, which had never left him.

He cut a citron, and the first fairy came forth. Carlino scarcely
glanced at her, and suffered her to take flight. It was the same with
the second; but as soon as the third appeared he gave her the cup,
from which she drank with a smile, and stood before him more graceful
than ever.

The fairy then told Carlino all that she had suffered from the wicked
negress. The prince, beside himself with mingled joy and anger,
laughed and wept, sang and raved. The king, hearing the noise, ran to
see what was the matter, and you may judge of his surprise. He danced
about like a madman, with his crown on his head and his scepter in his
hand. All at once he stopped short, bent his brow, which was a sign
that a thought had struck him, threw a large veil over the princess
which covered her from head to foot, and taking her by the hand, led
her to the dining-room.

It was the hour for breakfast. The ministers and courtiers were ranged
round a long table, magnificently served, waiting for the entrance of
the royal family to be seated. The king called the guests one after
another, and, raising the veil as each approached the fairy, asked:

"What shall be done to the person who sought to destroy this marvel of
beauty?"

And each one, wonder-struck, answered in his own way. Some said that
the author of such a crime deserved a hempen cravat; others thought
that the wretch should be thrown into the water with a stone to his
neck. Beheading seemed to the old minister too mild a punishment for
such a villain; he was in favor of flaying him alive, and all present
applauded his humanity.

When the negress's turn came she approached without suspicion, and did
not recognize the fairy. "Sire," said she, "a monster capable of
injuring this charming creature deserves to be roasted alive in an
oven, and to have his ashes thrown to the winds."

"You have pronounced your own sentence," cried the king of the
Vermilion Towers. "Wretch, behold your victim and prepare to die. Let
a funeral pile be built in the square in front of the castle. I will
give my good people the pleasure of seeing a witch burn; it will
occupy them for an hour or two."

"Sire," said the young fairy, taking the king's hand, "Your Majesty
surely will not refuse me a weddi