As for Telephassa, and Cadmus, and the good Thasus, it grieves me to think of them, still keeping up that weary pilgrimage.  The two young men did their best for the poor queen, helping her over the rough places, often carrying her across rivulets in their faithful arms, and seeking to shelter her at nightfall, even when they themselves lay on the ground.  Sad, sad it was to hear them asking of every passerby if he had seen Europa, so long after the white bull had carried her away.  But, though the gray years thrust themselves between, and made the child’s figure dim in their remembrance, neither of these true-hearted three ever dreamed of giving up the search.

One morning, however, poor Thasus found that he had sprained his ankle, and could not possibly go a step farther.

“After a few days, to be sure,” said he, mournfully, “I might make shift to hobble along with a stick.  But that would only delay you, and perhaps hinder you from finding dear little Europa, after all your pains and trouble.  Do you go forward, therefore, my beloved companions, and leave me to follow as I may.”

“Thou hast been a true friend, dear Thasus,” said Queen Telephassa, kissing his forehead.  “Being neither my son, nor the brother of our lost Europa, thou hast shown thyself truer to me and her than Phoenix and Cilix did, whom we have left behind us.  Without thy loving help, and that of my son Cadmus, my limbs could not have borne me half so far as this.  Now, take thy rest, and be at peace.  For—­and it is the first time I have owned it to myself—­I begin to question whether we shall ever find my beloved daughter in this world.”

Saying this, the poor queen shed tears, because it was a grievous trial to the mother’s heart to confess that her hopes were growing faint.  From that day forward, Cadmus noticed that she never travelled with the same alacrity of spirit that had heretofore supported her.  Her weight was heavier upon his arm.

Before setting out, Cadmus helped Thasus build a bower; while Telephassa, being too infirm to give any great assistance, advised them how to fit it up and furnish it, so that it might be as comfortable as a hut of branches could.  Thasus, however, did not spend all his days in this green bower.  For it happened to him, as to Phoenix and Cilix, that other homeless people visited the spot and liked it, and built themselves habitations in the neighbourhood.  So here, in the course of a few years, was another thriving city with a red freestone palace in the centre of it, where Thasus set upon a throne, doing justice to the people, with a purple robe over his shoulders, a sceptre in his hand, and a crown upon his head.  The inhabitants had made him king, not for the sake of any royal blood (for none was in his veins), but because Thasus was an upright, true-hearted, and courageous man, and therefore fit to rule.