and turning, and going round so quickly and so lightly, that it put
a _soorawn_ in Guleesh's head to be looking at them. There were
more there playing tricks, and more making fun and laughing, for
such a feast as there was that day had not been in France for twenty
years, because the old king had no children alive but only the one
daughter, and she was to be married to the son of another king that
night. Three days the feast was going on, and the third night she
was to be married, and that was the night that Guleesh and the
sheehogues came, hoping, if they could, to carry off with them the
king's young daughter.

Guleesh and his companions were standing together at the head of the
hall, where there was a fine altar dressed up, and two bishops
behind it waiting to marry the girl, as soon as the right time
should come. Now nobody could see the sheehogues, for they said a
word as they came in, that made them all invisible, as if they had
not been in it at all.

"Tell me which of them is the king's daughter," said Guleesh, when
he was becoming a little used to the noise and the light.

"Don't you see her there away from you?" said the little man that he
was talking to.

Guleesh looked where the little man was pointing with his finger,
and there he saw the loveliest woman that was, he thought, upon the
ridge of the world. The rose and the lily were fighting together in
her face, and one could not tell which of them got the victory. Her
arms and hands were like the lime, her mouth as red as a strawberry
when it is ripe, her foot was as small and as light as another one's