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‘You can have it, if you will, Houarn,’ answered the fairy.

‘What do you mean?’ cried he.

‘My husband, Korandon, is dead,’ she replied, ‘and if you wish it, I will marry you.’

The young man gazed at her in surprise. Could any one so rich and so beautiful really wish to be his wife? He looked at her again, and Bellah was forgotten as he answered:

‘A man would be mad indeed to refuse such an offer. I can only accept it with joy.’

‘Then the sooner it is done the better,’ said the Groac’h, and gave orders to her servants. After that was finished, she begged Houarn to accompany her to a fish-pond at the bottom of the garden.

‘Come lawyer, come miller, come tailor, come singer!’ cried she, holding out a net of steel; and at each summons a fish appeared and jumped into the net. When it was full she went into a large kitchen and threw them all into a golden pot; but above the bubbling of the water Houarn seemed to hear the whispering of little voices.

‘Who is it whispering in the golden pot, Groac’h?’ he inquired at last.

‘It is nothing but the noise of the wood sparkling,’ she answered; but it did not sound the least like that to Houarn.

‘There it is again,’ he said, after a short pause.

‘The water is getting hot, and it makes the fish jump,’ she replied; but soon the noise grew louder and like cries.

‘What is it?’ asked Houarn, beginning to feel uncomfortable.

‘Just the crickets on the hearth,’ said she, and broke into a song which drowned the cries from the pot.

But though Houarn held his peace, he was not as happy as before. Something seemed to have gone wrong, and then he suddenly remembered Bellah.

‘Is it possible I can have forgotten her so soon? What a wretch I am!’ he thought to himself; and he remained apart and watched the Groac’h while she emptied the fish into a plate, and bade him eat his dinner while she fetched wine from her cellar in a cave.

Houarn sat down and took out the knife which Bellah had given him, but as soon as the blade touched the fish the enchantment ceased, and four men stood before him.

‘Houarn, save us, we entreat you, and save yourself too!’ murmured they, not daring to raise their voices.

‘Why, it must have been you who were crying out in the pot just now!’ exclaimed Houarn.

‘Yes, it was us,’ they answered. ‘Like you, we came to the isle of Lok to seek our fortunes, and like you we consented to marry the Groac’h, and no sooner was the ceremony over than she turned us into fishes, as she had done to all our forerunners, who are in the fish-pond still, where you will shortly join them.’

On hearing this Houarn leaped into the air, as if he already felt himself frizzling in the golden pot. He rushed to the door, hoping to escape that way; but the Groac’h, who had heard everything, met him on the threshold. Instantly she threw the steel net over his head, and the eyes of a little green frog peeped through the meshes.

‘You shall go and play with the rest,’ she said, carrying him off to the fish-pond.

It was at this very moment that Bellah, who was skimming the milk in the farm dairy, heard the fairy bell tinkle violently.

At the sound she grew pale, for she knew it meant that Houarn was in danger; and, hastily, changing the rough dress she wore for her work, she left the farm with the magic stick in her hand.

Her knees were trembling under her, but she ran as fast as she could to the cross roads, where she drove her stick into the ground, murmuring as she did so a verse her mother had taught her:

Little staff of apple-tree, Over the earth and over the sea, Up in the air be guide to me, Everywhere to wander free,