you
get up."

Dobrunka knew that whatever the old hermit said was for her good, so
she rested as he ordered.

On the third morning the hermit called the boy and gave him a golden
spindle.

"Go to the palace again," he said, "and today offer this spindle for
sale. If any one asks you what you want for the spindle, say two
hands. Don't accept anything else."

The boy took the golden spindle and when he reached the palace and
sat down in the courtyard near the gate, Zloboha ran up to him at
once.

"What do you want for that spindle?" she asked.

"Two hands," the boy said.

"It's a strange thing you won't sell anything for money."

"I have to ask what my father tells me to ask."

Zloboha was in a quandary. She wanted the golden spindle, for it was
very beautiful. It would go well with the spinning wheel and would be
something to be proud of. Yet she didn't want to be left without
anything that had belonged to Dobrunka.

"But really, mother," she whined, "I don't see why I have to keep
something of Dobrunka's so that Dobromil will love me as he loved her.
I'm sure I'm as pretty as Dobrunka ever was."

"Well," said the old woman, "it would be better if you kept them. I've
often heard that's a good way to guard a man's love. However, do as
you like."

For a moment Zloboha was undecided. Then, tossing her head, she ran
and got the hands and gave them to the boy.

Zloboha took the spindle and, delighted with her bargain, carried it
into her chamber where she had the wheel and distaff. The old woman
was a little troubled, for she feared Zloboha had acted foolishly.
But Zloboha, confident of her beauty and her ability to charm the
king, only laughed at her.

As soon as the boy had delivered the hands to the hermit, the old man
carried them into the cave. Then he anointed the wounds on Dobrunka's
arms with the same healing salve that he used before, and stuck on the
hands.

As soon as Dobrunka could move them she jumped up from the couch and,
falling at the hermit's feet, she kissed the hands that had been so
good to her.

"A thousand thanks to you, my benefactor!" she cried with tears of joy
in her eyes. "I can never repay you, I know that, but ask of me
anything I can do and I'll do it."

"I ask nothing," the old man said, gently raising her to her feet.
"What I did for you I would do for any one. I only did my duty. So say
no more about it. And now, my child, farewell. You are to stay here
until some o