I sat for some time alone on the rocks, gazing with fascinated interest at the curious effect produced by the clouds of spray coming from “the Bellows,” and was at last just turning to go when I started in surprise, for there, sitting on another rock just behind me, was the little Yellow Dwarf, Shin Shira, energetically fanning himself with the little yellow fan which I had noticed at our previous meeting.

“Oh! it’s you, is it?” he remarked, when he caught sight of my face.  “I thought I recognised the back view; you see it was the last I saw of you when I paid you that visit in your study.”

“And disappeared so very suddenly,” I answered, going up and offering my hand, for I was very pleased to see the little man again.

[Illustration]

“I was obliged to.  You know of my unfortunate affliction in having to appear or disappear whenever my fairy great-great-great-grandmother wishes. He’s safe enough, isn’t he?” he added, inconsequently nodding his head towards “the Bellows.”

“Who is?  What do you mean?” I inquired.

“The dragon, of course,” said Shin Shira.

“The dragon!” I exclaimed.

“Certainly—­you know that there’s a dragon imprisoned behind those rocks, don’t you?”

I laughed.

“No,” I said, “although I must admit that I was at first inclined to think that something of the sort was concealed there.  I’ve had it all explained to me, though,” and I proceeded to inform him of what the guide had told me concerning the matter.

“Pooh!  Rubbish!  He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” said Shin Shira contemptuously; “I’ll tell you the real story of those rocks as it occurred, let’s see—­about eight or nine hundred years ago.  I remember it quite well, for it was one of those occasions when I was most distressed at having to disappear at what was for me the very worst possible moment.”

I settled myself comfortably on the rocks beside Shin Shira and prepared to listen with great interest.

“Let’s think for a moment,” said the little Yellow Dwarf, looking about him.

“It began—­oh, yes!  I know now.  In that cave over yonder—­I was eight or nine hundred years younger then, and a very warm-blooded and impressionable young fellow at that time; and I can remember being struck with the extreme beauty of the charming Princess whom I discovered in tears there when I suddenly appeared.

“The cave itself was hung about with the most beautiful silken curtains and tapestries, and on the floor were spread rugs and carpets and cushions of Oriental magnificence.  Tiny tables, inlaid with ivory and mother-of-pearl, were scattered about, on which were caskets filled with beautiful jewels and rare curios from foreign lands.

“The Princess herself was reclining on one of the cushions, sobbing as though her heart would break, and her beautiful hair was lying in dishevelled glory about her shoulders.