“And one evening when she was sitting with her mother, suddenly the king entered the room in the greatest trouble, and not seeing the Princess, for it was dusk, he exclaimed,

“’It has failed again.  The monster is not to be deceived.  He vows he will not cease his ravages till he gets the real Princess, our beloved daughter.  He has appeared again, and is more infuriated than ever, tearing up trees by the roots, destroying the people’s houses, tramping over their fields, and half killing all the country with terror.  What is to be done?  The people say they can endure it no longer.  The girl Bruna was found bruised and bleeding by the wayside a long way from this, and she gives the same account as the gardener’s daughter of the monster’s rage at finding he had been deceived.’

“The queen had tried to prevent the king’s relating all this, but he was too excited to notice her hints, and, indeed, after the first few words, the Princess had heard enough.  She started from her seat and came forward.  And when he saw her, the king threw up his hands in despair.  But the Princess said quietly, ‘Father, you must tell me the whole.’

“So they had to tell her the whole.  For many weeks past the terrible monster she had seen in the courtyard had been filling the country with fear.  He had suddenly appeared at a distant part of the kingdom—­having come, it was said, from a country over the sea named ’Norrowa’—­and had laid it waste, for though he did not actually kill or devour, he tore down trees, trampled crops, and terrified every one that came in his way, as the king had said.  And when begged to have mercy and to return to his own country, he roared out with a voice between the voice of a man and the bellow of a bull, that he would leave them in peace once the king gave him his daughter in marriage.

“Messenger after messenger had been sent to the palace to entreat for assistance.  Soldiers in numbers had been despatched to seize the monster and imprison him.  But it was no use—­he was not to be caught.  Nothing would content him but the promise of the Princess; and as it was of course plain that he was not a common bull, but a creature endowed with magical power, the country-people’s fear of him was unbounded.  They threatened to rise in revolution unless some means were found of ridding them of their terrible visitor.  Then the king called together the wisest of his counsellors, and finding force of no avail, they determined to try cunning.  The giving the Princess was not to be thought of, but a pretty girl about her age and size—­the gardener’s daughter, the same whom the Princess had found weeping over her fate—­was chosen, dressed in one of her royal mistress’s beautiful robes, and a message sent to the bull that his request was to be granted.  He came.  All round, the castle was protected by soldiers, though they well knew their power against him was nothing.  The king and queen, feigning to weep over the loss of their daughter, themselves presented to him the false Princess.