uld not regularly send messengers to
the queen. But at length, after many sorties, he forced the enemy to
raise the siege. This success gave him pleasure not so much on his own
account, as for the sake of the queen, who could now be brought home in
safety. He knew nothing of the disaster which had befallen her, for none
of his retinue had dared to tell him of it. They had found in the forest
the remains of the chariot, the runaway horses, and the apparel in which
she had driven forth to find her husband, and being convinced that she
was killed or devoured by wild beasts, their one idea was to make the
king believe that she had died suddenly.

It seemed as if the king could not survive this mournful news. He tore
his hair, wept bitterly, and lamented his loss with all manner of
sorrowful cries and sobs and sighs. For several days he would see
nobody, and hid himself from view. Later, he returned to his capital and
entered upon a long period of mourning, to the sincerity of which his
heartfelt sorrow bore even plainer testimony than his sombre garb of
woe. His royal neighbours all sent ambassadors with messages of
condolence, and when the ceremonies proper to these occasions were at
length over, he proclaimed a period of peace. He released his subjects
from military service, and devoted himself to giving them every
assistance in the development of commerce.

Of all this the queen knew nothing. A little princess had been born to
her in the meantime, and her beauty did not belie the Frog's prediction.
They gave her the name of Moufette, but the queen had great difficulty
in persuading the Witch to let her bring up the child, for her ferocity
was such that she would have liked to eat it.

At the age of six months Moufette was a marvel of beauty, and often, as
she gazed upon her with mingled tenderness and pity, the queen would
say:

'Could your father but see you, my poor child, how delighted he would
be, and how dear you would be to him! But perhaps even now he has begun
to forget me: doubtless he believes that death has robbed him of us, and
it may be that another now fills the place I had in his affections.'

Many were the tears she shed over these sad thoughts, and the Frog,
whose love for her was sincere, was moved one day by the sight of her
grief to say to her:

'If you like, Madam, I will go and seek your royal husband. It is a long
journey, and I am but a tardy traveller, but sooner or later I have no
doubt I