plucked and arranged her tasteful bouquets, had he watched her with rapture; at times invisible, at other times, when in mortal guise, he breathed his vows of love, and occupied the hours in pleasing converse. Slowly paced he up and down, plunged in the most gloomy reverie; then, roused to fury, he poured forth curses loud and deep against the whole human race, whom—so bad, so treacherous did he now deem them—he determined to hold thenceforth in utter scorn and hatred. In an excess of rage he thrice stamped with his foot, and instantly the magic palace and all its appurtenances disappeared, and into the fathomless gulf which opened in its place the Gnome precipitated himself, nor paused in his career till he reached the centre of the earth, carrying with him a sense of the bitterest mortification and disappointment, and fierce hatred to all mankind.
Meantime Prince Ratibor, who had lost no time in providing for the security of his lovely prize, bore her in triumph to her father’s court, where their espousals were celebrated; and thence he proceeded with his bride to his dominions, ascended the throne of his forefathers, and built the town which bears his name to this day. The wondrous adventure of the Princess in the Riesengeberg, her daring flight, and fortune-favoured escape, became a tradition in all men’s mouths, handed down from generation to
