Clad in sailor blue, wearing a little cap, a blouse open at the
throat, and trousers cut wide at the bottoms, the runaway lad sailed
over the sea to foreign lands and isles. And as the years passed, one by
one, and brought no tidings of him, his father and his brothers gave him
up for lost.
Now the King of the country in which the rich merchant and his son dwelt
loved rare gems and precious stones more than anything else in the
world. Hidden secretly away in the deep foundations of his castle lay
his treasure-room: it was circular in shape and built of black marble,
and at equal distance one from the other, along the curving wall, stood
a hundred statues of armed men, holding ever-burning lights. A hundred
coffers of green stone lay on the floor, one at the base of each statue,
each coffer piled high with gems.
Night after night, when all was still, the King would descend to the
secret chamber, and throwing open the covers of the jewel-chests, would
gaze long and silently into the gleaming mass within.
One night the King led his neighbor, the Emperor of the Seven Isles, to
the jewel-room, and showed him his treasures.
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