THE SWEET-SCENTED NAME
"Yes, I know who you are. You are the most beautiful Princess Turandina, daughter of the mighty king of this land, Turandon."
The princess smiled gaily and said to him:
"Yes, you know that, but you don't know all. I learnt from my father, the wise King Turandon, how to weave spells and enchantments, and I am able to do with you as I will. I wanted to have a little game with you, and so I cast a spell over you and you went away from your princely home and from your father, and now, you see, you have forgotten your real name, and you have become the child of a cook, and you are called by the name of Grishka. You have forgotten who you are, and you can't remember until I choose that you should."
"Who am I?" asked Grishka.
Turandina laughed. An evil light gleamed in her cornflower-blue eyes like the light in the eyes of a young witch not yet accustomed to the art of sorcery. Her long fingers pressed hard against the boy's thin shoulder. She teased him, speaking like a little street-girl:
"Shan't tell you. Shan't tell you for
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