o you for your hospitality, which was so magnificent
that I could not imagine that you would be offended by my taking such a
little thing as a rose." But the beast's anger was not lessened by this
speech.

"You are very ready with excuses and flattery," he cried; "but that will
not save you from the death you deserve."

"Alas!" thought the merchant, "if my daughter Beauty could only know
what danger her rose has brought me into!"

And in despair be began to tell the beast all his misfortunes and the
reason of his journey, not forgetting to mention Beauty's request.

"A king's ransom would hardly have procured all that my other daughters
asked," he said, "but I thought that I might at least take Beauty her
rose. I beg you to forgive me, for you see I meant no harm."

The beast considered for a moment, and then he said in a less furious
tone:

"I will forgive you on one condition--that is, that you will give me one
of your daughters."

"Ah!" cried the merchant, "if I were cruel enough to buy my own life at
the expense of one of my children's, what excuse could I invent to bring
her here?"

"No excuse would be necessary," answered the beast. "If she comes at all
she must come willingly. On no other condition will I have her. See if
any one of them is courageous enough and loves you well enough to come
and save your life. You seem to be an honest man, so I will trust you to
go home. I give you a month to see if either of your daughters will come
back with you and stay here, to let you go free. If neither of them is
willing you must come alone, after bidding them good-by forever, for
then you will belong to me. And do not imagine that you can hide from
me, for if you fail to keep your word I will come and fetch you!" added
the beast grimly.

The merchant accepted this proposal, though he did not really think any
of his daughters would be persuaded to come. He promised to return at
the time appointed, and then, anxious to escape from the presence of the
beast, he asked permission to set off at once. But the beast answered
that he could not go until the next day.

"Then you will find a horse ready for you," he said. "Now go and eat
your supper and await my orders."

The poor merchant, more dead than alive, went back to his room, where
the most delicious supper was already served on the little table which
was drawn up before a blazing fire. But he was too terrified to eat, and
only tasted a few of the dishes, for