,' said Petru, and he bound the giant's left hand to his right
foot, tied one handkerchief round his mouth to prevent him crying out,
and another round his eyes, and led him to the river.

Once they had reached the bank he stretched one leg over to the other
side, and, catching up Petru in the palm of his hand, set him down on
the further shore.

'That is all right,' said Petru. Then he played a few notes on his
flute, and the giant went to sleep again. Even the fairies who had been
bathing a little lower down heard the music and fell asleep among the
flowers on the bank. Petru saw them as he passed, and thought, 'If they
are so beautiful, why should the Fairy of the Dawn be so ugly?' But he
dared not linger, and pushed on.

And now he was in the wonderful gardens, which seemed more wonderful
still than they had done from afar. But Petru could see no faded
flowers, nor any birds, as he hastened through them to the castle. No
one was there to bar his way, for all were asleep. Even the leaves had
ceased to move.

He passed through the courtyard, and entered the castle itself.

What he beheld there need not be told, for all the world knows that the
palace of the Fairy of the Dawn is no ordinary place. Gold and precious
stones were as common as wood with us, and the stables where the horses
of the sun were kept were more splendid than the palace of the greatest
emperor in the world.

Petru went up the stairs and walked quickly through eight-and-forty
rooms, hung with silken stuffs, and all empty. In the forty-ninth he
found the Fairy of the Dawn herself.

In the middle of this room, which was as large as a church, Petru saw
the celebrated well that he had come so far to seek. It was a well
just like other wells, and it seemed strange that the Fairy of the Dawn
should have it in her own chamber; yet anyone could tell it had been
there for hundreds of years. And by the well slept the Fairy of the
Dawn--the Fairy of the Dawn--herself!

And as Petru looked at her the magic flute dropped by his side, and he
held his breath.

Near the well was a table, on which stood bread made with does' milk,
and a flagon of wine. It was the bread of strength and the wine of
youth, and Petru longed for them. He looked once at the bread and once
at the wine, and then at the Fairy of the Dawn, still sleeping on her
silken cushions.

As he looked a mist came over his senses. The fairy opened her eyes
slowly and looked at Petru, who lo