re him. He was
ravenously hungry and did full justice to the meal. Then she led him
to the bath chamber.

"Wash and robe thyself," she said, giving him some clothes, "and then
I have much to inquire of thee."

The shepherd felt ever so much better when he had bathed, and then
attired in the strange garments she had given him, he appeared before
the princess.

She gazed at him so long and searchingly that he blushed in confusion.

"Thou art fair to look upon and of manly stature," said the princess.

The shepherd could only stammer a reply, but after a while he said,
"Fair lady, who and what thou art I know not. Such beauty as thine is
the right of princesses only. I am but a poor shepherd."

"And may not a shepherd be handsome?" she asked. "Tell me: who hath
laid down a law that only royal personages may be fair to behold? I
have seen princes of vile countenance."

She stopped suddenly, for she did not wish to betray her secret. They
sat in a little room in the tower, unknown to the many guards down
below, and, although the shepherd protested, the princess waited on
him herself, bringing him food, and cushions on which he could rest
that night.

Next morning they ascended the tower together.

"I come here every morning," said the princess.

"Why?" the shepherd asked.

"To see if my husband cometh," was the answer.

"Who is he?" asked the shepherd.

The princess laughed.

"I know not," she said. "Some mornings when I have stood here and
grieved at my loneliness, I have felt inclined to make a vow that I
would marry the first man who came hither."

The shepherd was silent. Then he looked boldly into the princess' eyes
and said: "Thou hast told me I am the first man who has come to thee.
I am emboldened to declare my love for thee, a feeling that swept over
me the moment my eyes beheld thee. Who thou art, what thou art, I know
not, I care not. Shall we be husband and wife?"

The princess gave him her hand.

"It is ordained," she said, and thus their troth was plighted.

"We cannot remain here forever," said the princess, presently. "Canst
thou, husband of my heart's choice, devise some means of escape?"

He looked down at the carcass of the ox thoughtfully for a few
moments.

"I have it," he exclaimed, excitedly. "It is a safe assumption that
the monster bird that brought me will return for his meal. He can then
carry us away. If the heavens approve," he said, fervently, "thus it
shall be."

Th