'"Do you indeed think so?" he exclaimed eagerly. "Your pity and courage are my only hope. For I am doomed to continue this awful life--for hundreds of years perhaps--till twelve dumb animals mount on my back and let me carry them out of this forest. In my despair, when I heard this sentence, I thought of you and your favourites, whom I used to mock at and ill-treat more than you knew. They love and trust you so much that it is possible you may make them do this. But I fear for your own courage."

'"No," said Auréole, "that will not fail. And Fido is of a most forgiving nature. See here," she went on, calling to the little dog, "here is poor Halbert, who wants you to love him. Stroke him, Halbert," and as the Prince gently did so, Fido looked up in his face with wistful eyes, and began timidly to wag his tail, while Lello and the rabbit drew near, and the birds fluttered, chirping above their heads. It was a pretty picture.

Christmas Tree Land — Part 49

'"See," said Auréole, raising her bright face from caressing the good little creatures, "see, Halbert, how loving and gentle they are! It will not be difficult. In many ways they are wiser than we. But I can never again believe that the spirits of the forest are evil or mischievous. Rather do I now think them good and benevolent. How happy seem all the creatures under their care!"

Christmas Tree Land — Part 49

'"I know no more than I have told you," said Halbert; "but I too believe they must be good, cruelly as they have punished me, for I deserved it. And doubtless all those who are said to have disappeared in the forest have been kept here for good purposes. And such as you, Auréole, have nothing to fear in any country or from any spirits. But I must go," he exclaimed. "I would not have you _yet_ see me in my other form. You must reflect over what I have said, and prepare yourself for it."

Christmas Tree Land — Part 49

'"And when, then, shall I see you again?" she asked.

'"To-night, at sunset, at the door of your hut, you will see--alas, not _me_!" he whispered, and then in a moment he had disappeared.

'At sunset that evening Auréole sat at the door of the little hut, surrounded by her animals. She had petted and caressed them even more than usual, so anxious was she to prepare them for their strange task. She had even talked of it to Fido and Lello with a sort of vague idea that they might understand a little, though their only answer was for Fido to wag his tail and Lello to rub his soft nose against her. But suddenly both pricked up their ears, and then clinging more closely to their mistress, began to tremble with fear, while the birds drew near in a frightened flock.