“If I may say so,” said Charming, “I should have thought that you would have known best.”

“The same silly idea they all have,” said the Tortoise testily.  “When Blunderbus put this enchantment on me, do you suppose he got a blackboard and a piece of chalk and gave me a lecture on the diet and habits of the common tortoise, before showing me out of the front gate?  No, he simply turned me into the form of a tortoise and left my mind and soul as it was before.  I’ve got the anatomy of a tortoise, I’ve got the very delicate inside of a tortoise, but I don’t think like one, stupid.  Else I shouldn’t mind being one.”

“I never thought of that.”

“No one does, except me.  And I can think of nothing else.”  He paused and added confidentially, “We’re trying rum omelettes just now.  Somehow I don’t think tortoises really like them.  However, we shall see.  I suppose you’ve never heard anything definite against them?”

“You needn’t bother about that,” said Charming briskly.  “By to-night you will be a man again.”  And he patted him encouragingly on the shell and returned to take an affectionate farewell of the Princess.

As soon as he was alone, Charming turned the ring round his finger, and the dwarf appeared before him.

“The same as usual?” said the dwarf, preparing to vanish at the word.  He was just beginning to get into the swing of it.

“No, no,” said Charming hastily.  “I really want you this time.”  He thought for a moment.  “I want,” he said at last, “a sword.  One that will kill giants.”

Instantly a gleaming sword was at his feet.  He picked it up and examined it.

“Is this really a magic sword?”

“It has but to inflict one scratch,” said the dwarf, “and the result is death.”

Charming, who had been feeling the blade, took his thumb away hastily.

“Then I shall want a cloak of darkness,” he said.

“Behold, here it is.  Beneath this cloak the wearer is invisible to the eyes of his enemies.”

“One thing more,” said Charming.  “A pair of seven-league boots....  Thank you.  That is all to-day.”

Directly the dwarf was gone, Charming kicked off his shoes and stepped into the magic boots; then he seized the sword and the cloak and darted off on his lady’s behest.  He had barely gone a hundred paces before a sudden idea came to him, and he pulled himself up short.

“Let me see,” he reflected; “the castle was ten miles away.  These are seven-league boots—­so that I have come about two thousand miles.  I shall have to go back.”  He took some hasty steps back, and found himself in the wood from which he had started.

“Well?” said Princess Beauty, “have you killed him?”

“No, n-no,” stammered Charming, “not exactly killed him.  I was just—­just practising something.  The fact is,” he added confidentially, “I’ve got a pair of new boots on, and—­” He saw the look of cold surprise in her face and went on quickly, “I swear, Princess, that I will not return to you again without his head.”