That night the wandering moon, that came peeping through the lofty windows, saw a strange sight. Upon her round disc a broad, sallow face could now be plainly seen, grinning good-humouredly at what she beheld.
That night the Princess had a dream, or rather a vision. No sooner did she shut her eyes and her senses began to wander and lose themselves, than she saw the shaggy cur come into the room, with his usual waddling gait, wagging his tail according to his wont. He came up to her bed, stood upon his hind legs, put his big paws upon the white sheets, and began to look at her just in the very same way he had done that morning when she awoke to find herself shut up within the battlemented walls of that lonely tower by the sea. She was almost amused to see him stare at her so gravely, for he looked like a wise doctor standing by some patient's bed. Until now there was nothing very strange in this vision, but now comes the most wonderful and interesting part, which shows how truth and fancy, the occurrences of the day before and long-forgotten facts, are often blended together to make up the plot of our dreams.
As the Princess was looking upon the dog's paws, she saw them change, not all at once, but quietly undergo a slow process of transformation. They, little by little, grew longer and shaped themselves into fingers and broad hands. She looked up--in her sleep, of course--and beheld the fore part of the legs gradually lengthen themselves into two sturdy arms. The dog's shaggy head became somewhat blurred, and in its stead a man's tawny mass of hair appeared. In fact, after a few minutes, the last rejected suitor, who, indeed, had always borne a strong likeness to the ugly cur that had followed her in her exile, now appeared before her.
He was not a handsome man; no, far from handsome; still, on the whole, it was better to have as her companion a human being than a dog. Still, strange to say, she now liked this man on account of his strong resemblance to the faithful dumb cur, the only friend she had now had for years.
"You said that if I were a man you could love me," quoth he, in something like a soft and gentle growl, sniffing at her as he spoke, evidently unable to forbear from his long-acquired canine customs. "Well, now, do you love me?"