"Remember! Never ascend these steps again without the child!"

"Never!" sobbed Queen Telephassa; and the three brothers and
Thasus answered, "Never! Never! Never! Never!"

And they kept their word. Year after year, King Agenor sat in
the solitude of his beautiful palace, listening in vain for
their returning footsteps, hoping to hear the familiar voice of
the queen, and the cheerful talk of his sons and their
playfellow Thasus, entering the door together, and the sweet,
childish accents of little Europa in the midst of them. But so
long a time went by, that, at last, if they had really come,
the king would not have known that this was the voice of
Telephassa, and these the younger voices that used to make such
joyful echoes, when the children were playing about the palace.
We must now leave King Agenor to sit on his throne, and must go
along with Queen Telephassa, and her four youthful companions.

They went on and on, and traveled a long way, and passed over
mountains and rivers, and sailed over seas. Here, and there,
and everywhere, they made continual inquiry if any person could
tell them what had become of Europa. The rustic people, of whom
they asked this question, paused a little while from their
labors in the field, and looked very much surprised. They
thought it strange to behold a woman in the garb of a queen
(for Telephassa in her haste had forgotten to take off her
crown and her royal robes), roaming about the country, with four
lads around her, on such an errand as this seemed to be. But
nobody could give them any tidings of Europa; nobody had seen a
little girl dressed like a princess, and mounted on a snow-