The queen jumped on the floor, and Colin, leaning from the bed, pulled out his little box, and got out the bottle.
“There it is, your majesty,” he said, but not offering it to her.
“Give it me directly,” said the queen, holding out her hand.
“First give me my little girl,” returned Colin, boldly.
“Do you dare to bargain with me?” said the queen, angrily.
“Your majesty deigned to bargain with me first,” said Colin.
“But since then you tried to break all our necks. You made a wicked cataract out there on the other side of the garden. Our boats were all dashed to pieces, and we had to wait till our horses were fetched. If I had been killed, you couldn’t have held me to my bargain, and I won’t hold to it now.”
“If you chose to go down my cataract—” began Colin.
“ Your cataract!” cried the queen. “All the waters that run from Loch Lonely are mine, I can tell you—all the way to the sea.”
“Except where they run through farmyards, your majesty.”
“I’ll rout you out of the country,” said the queen.
“Meantime I’ll put the bottle in the chest again,” returned Colin.
The queen bit her lips with vexation.
“Come here, Changeling,” she cried at length, in a flattering tone.
And the little girl came slowly up to her, and stood staring at Colin, with the tears in her eyes.
“Give me your hand, little girl,” said he, holding out his.