w suit in place of his own, which had been
spoilt. 'This palace,' he said to himself, 'must surely belong to some
good fairy, who has taken pity on my plight.'

He looked out of the window. The snow had vanished, and his eyes rested
instead upon arbours of flowers--a charming spectacle. He went back to
the room where he had supped the night before, and found there a little
table with a cup of chocolate on it. 'I thank you, Madam Fairy,' he said
aloud, 'for being so kind as to think of my breakfast.'

Having drunk his chocolate the good man went forth to look for his
horse. As he passed under a bower of roses he remembered that Beauty had
asked for one, and he plucked a spray from a mass of blooms. The very
same moment he heard a terrible noise, and saw a beast coming towards
him which was so hideous that he came near to fainting.

'Ungrateful wretch!' said the Beast, in a dreadful voice; 'I have saved
your life by receiving you into my castle, and in return for my trouble
you steal that which I love better than anything in the world--my roses.
You shall pay for this with your life! I give you fifteen minutes to
make your peace with Heaven.'

The merchant threw himself on his knees and wrung his hands. 'Pardon, my
lord!' he cried; 'one of my daughters had asked for a rose, and I did
not dream I should be giving offence by picking one.'

'I am not called "my lord,"' answered the monster, 'but "The Beast." I
have no liking for compliments, but prefer people to say what they
think. Do not hope therefore to soften me by flattery. You have
daughters, you say; well, I am willing to pardon you if one of your
daughters will come, of her own choice, to die in your place. Do not
argue with me--go! And swear that if your daughters refuse to die in
your place you will come back again in three months.'

[Illustration: _The Beast_]

The good man had no intention of sacrificing one of his daughters to
this hideous monster, but he thought that at least he might have the
pleasure of kissing them once again. He therefore swore to return, and
the Beast told him he could go when he wished. 'I do not wish you to go
empty-handed,' he added; 'return to the room where you slept; you will
find there a large empty box. Fill it with what you will; I will have it
sent home for you.'

With these words the Beast withdrew, leaving the merchant to reflect
that if he must indeed die, at all events he would have the consolation
of providing for