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rather late, and expected to be scolded by the terrible Tourmentine, she was much surprised at being favourably received; and finding a table covered with fruits, she asked to be allowed to take some. Ravagio told her that they were intended for her; that the young Ogre had been gathering them, and that it was now time to make him happy; that three days hence he wished her to marry him. What tidings! Could there be any in the world more dreadful for this amiable Princess! She thought she should die of fright and grief; but, concealing her affliction, she replied she would obey them without repugnance, provided they would give her a little longer time. Ravagio became angry, and said, "What should prevent my instantly devouring you?" The poor Princess fainted with fear in the claws of Tourmentine and the young Ogre, who loved her dearly, and who entreated Ravagio so much that he appeased him. Aimée did not sleep an instant; she waited for daylight with impatience. As soon as it appeared, she flew to the rock, and when she saw the Prince she uttered sad cries, and shed rivers of tears. He remained almost motionless; his love for the beautiful Aimée had increased in four days, more than a common passion would have done in four years; he was dying to ask her what had happened. She knew he could not understand her, and could think of no mode of explanation. At last she untied her long hair—she put a wreath of flowers on her head, and taking Aimé's hand, she made signs, expressing that they intended she was to do so with another. He comprehended the misery that was threatening him, and that they were going to marry her. He felt he should expire at her feet; he knew neither the roads, nor the means of saving her, nor did she. They shed tears together—looked at each other—and mutually signified it would be better to die together than to be separated. She stayed with him till the evening; but as night advanced sooner than they expected it, and being deep in thought, she did not attend to the paths she took; she entered a part of the wood very little frequented, and where a long thorn pierced her foot through and through: happily for her she was not far from the cavern. She had much trouble in reaching it—her foot was all over blood. Ravagio, Tourmentine, and the young Ogres, came to her assistance. She suffered great pain when they took out the