Oh, my baby, my little
Sea-child!"

The Stork wiped a tear from his eye. "It is very sad," he said. "But
perhaps it will comfort you to know that he is not far away."

"Oh!" cried the Mermaid, clasping her hands. "You know where he is? You
will bring him back to me? Dear, dear Stork! I will give you a necklace
of pearls and a necklace of coral if you will bring my baby to me
again."

The Stork smiled grimly, looking down at his long neck. "A necklace of
pearls and a necklace of coral!" he repeated. "How becoming they would
be!" Then he grew grave once more and said: "I cannot return your child
to you, but I can tell you something of him. He is indeed among the
humans, but he is very happy there. They love him and he loves them, and
all is well--so far."

"Oh, show him to me that I may take him away!" cried the Mermaid.

[Illustration: YOU WILL BRING HIM BACK TO ME?]

But the Stork shook his head. "No, no, for you deserted him," he said
solemnly; "now he has another mother in yonder village who loves him
better than you did. He has a brother, also, whom he loves best of all.
You cannot claim him so long as he is happy there."

"Then shall I never see him again, wise Bird?" asked the Mermaid sadly.

"Perhaps," answered the Stork. "If he should become unhappy, or if the
secret should be betrayed."

"Ah, then I must be again a cruel mother and hope that he may become
unhappy," sobbed the Mermaid. "I shall look for him every day in the
harbor near the village, and when his face is sad I shall claim him for
my own."

"You will not know him," cried the Stork, rising on his wings and
flapping away. "He wears a disguise. He is like a human,--like any other
fisher-boy; and he bears a human name."

"Oh, tell me that name!" begged the Mermaid.

But the Stork only cried, "I must not tell. I have told too much
already," and he was gone.

"Oh, then I will love all fisher-boys for his sake," sobbed the
Mermaid as she dived down into the sea. "And some day, some day I shall
find him out; for my baby is sure to be the finest of them all."

Now the years went by, and the parents of Gil and Jan were dead. The two
brothers were tall and sturdy and stout, the finest lads in the whole
country. But as their shadows grew taller and broader when they walked
together across the sand, so another shadow which had begun to fall
between them grew and grew. It was the shadow of Gil's selfishness and
jealousy. So long as Jan was small