A short avenue of limes led from the forest road to the door. I
looked curiously before us as we rode under the trees, in some
fear lest M. de Perrot's preparations should discover my
complicity, and apprise the King that he was expected. But so
far was this from being the case that no one appeared; the house
rose still and silent in the mellow light of sunset, and, for all
that we could see, might have been the fabled palace of
enchantment.

"'He is Jean de Nivelle's dog; he runs away when you call him,'"
the King quoted. "Get down, Rosny. We have reached the palace
of the Sleeping Princess. It remains only to sound the horn,
and--"

I was in the act of dismounting, with my back to him, when his
words came to this sudden stop. I turned to learn what caused
it, and saw standing in the aperture of the wicket, which had
been silently opened, a girl, little more than a child, of the
most striking beauty. Surprise shone in her eyes, and shyness
and alarm had brought the colour to her cheeks; while the level
rays of the sun, which forced her to screen her eyes with one
small hand, clothed her figure in a robe of lucent glory. I
heard the King whistle low. Before I could speak he had flung
himself from his horse and, throwing the reins to one of the
pages, was bowing before her.

"We were about to sound the horn, Mademoiselle," he said,
smiling.

"The horn, Monsieur?" she exclaimed, opening her eyes in wonder,