wide blue sea, with only his snowy head and tail emerging, and
poor little Europa between them, stretching out one hand
towards her dear brothers, while she grasped the bull's ivory
horn with the other. And there stood Cadmus, Phoenix, and
Cilix, gazing at this sad spectacle, through their tears, until
they could no longer distinguish the bull's snowy head from the
white-capped billows that seemed to boil up out of the sea's
depths around him. Nothing more was ever seen of the white
bull--nothing more of the beautiful child.

This was a mournful story, as you may well think, for the three
boys to carry home to their parents. King Agenor, their father,
was the ruler of the whole country; but he loved his little
daughter Europa better than his kingdom, or than all his other
children, or than anything else in the world. Therefore, when
Cadmus and his two brothers came crying home, and told him how
that a white bull had carried off their sister, and swam with
her over the sea, the king was quite beside himself with grief
and rage. Although it was now twilight, and fast growing dark,
he bade them set out instantly in search of her.

"Never shall you see my face again," he cried, "unless you
bring me back my little Europa, to gladden me with her smiles
and her pretty ways. Begone, and enter my presence no more,
till you come leading her by the hand."

As King Agenor said this, his eyes flashed fire (for he was a
very passionate king), and he looked so terribly angry that the
poor boys did not even venture to ask for their suppers, but
slunk away out of the palace, and only paused on the steps a