"What are my lord's commands?" said the being, in a voice that
shook the marrow of the soldier's bones.

"Who are you?" said the soldier.

"I am the spirit of the stone," said the being. "You have heated
it in the flame, and I am here. Whatever you command I must
obey."

"Say you so?" cried the soldier, scrambling to his feet. "Very
well, then, just carry me to where I may find my wife and my
palace again."

Without a word the spirit of the stone snatched the soldier up,
and flew away with him swifter than the wind. Over forest, over
field, over mountain and over valley he flew, until at last, just
at the crack of day, he set him down in front of his own palace
gate in the far country where the magician had transported it.

After that the soldier knew his way quickly enough. He clapped
his feather cap upon his head and into the palace he went, and
from one room to another, until at last he came to where the
princess sat weeping and wailing, with her pretty eyes red from
long crying.

Then the soldier took off his cap again, and you may guess what
sounds of rejoicing followed. They sat down beside one another,
and after the soldier had eaten, the princess told him all that
had happened to her; how the magician had found the stool, and
how he had transported the palace to this far-away land; how he