ng about the banks. Everything around was rare
and beautiful, but the Prince scarcely raised his eyes to all these
wonders. He thought only of the Princess and where he should find her,
but in vain he opened every door and searched in every corner; he
neither saw Rosalie nor anyone else. At last there was no place left
for him to search but a little wood, which contained in the centre a
sort of hall built entirely of orange-trees, with four small rooms
opening out of the corners. Three of these were empty except for
statues and wonderful things, but in the fourth the Invisible Prince
caught sight of Rosalie. His joy at beholding her again was, however,
somewhat lessened by seeing that the Prince of the Air was kneeling at
her feet, and pleading his own cause. But it was in vain that he
implored her to listen; she only shook her head. 'No,' was all she
would say; 'you snatched me from my father whom I loved, and all the
splendour in the world can never console me. Go! I can never feel
anything towards you but hate and contempt.' With these words she
turned away and entered her own apartments.

Unknown to herself the Invisible Prince had followed her, but fearing
to be discovered by the Princess in the presence of others, be made up
his mind to wait quietly till dark; and employed the long hours in
writing a poem to the Princess, which he laid on the bed beside her.
This done, he thought of nothing but how best to deliver Rosalie, and
he resolved to take advantage of a visit which the Prince of the Air
paid every year to his mother and brothers in order to strike the
blow.

One day Rosalie was sitting alone in her room thinking of her troubles
when she suddenly saw a pen get up from off the desk and begin to
write all by itself on a sheet of white paper. As she did not know
that it was guided by an invisible hand she was very much astonished,
and the moment that the pen had ceased to move she instantly went over
to the table, where she found some lovely verses, telling her that
another shared her distresses, whatever they might be, and loved her
with all his heart; and that he would never rest until he had
delivered her from the hands of the man she hated. Thus encouraged,
she told him all her story, and of the arrival of a young stranger in
her father's palace, whose looks had so charmed her that since that
day she had thought of no one else. At these words the Prince could
contain himself no longer. He took the pebble