garden and called him, but received no answer. BEAUTY

At last, having reached a portion of the shrub- ah

beries that was allowed to run wild, she heard
groans issuing from a cave.

She penetrated into it, and found the Beast
prostrate on the ground, and apparently dying.
He reproached her with having forgotten him and
broken her promise, and reminded her of what he
had said, that her absence protracted beyond the
two months allotted to her would be death to him.
Beauty was so terrified by this dream that she
sprang from her bed, hastily clothed herself, ran
to her father’s room, roused him, said farewell;
then she did the same to her sisters, and, still
agitated with the thoughts of the dying Beast,
turned her ring and wished herself back again in
his palace.

Hardly had she done this before she was again in
the little chamber in which she had spent so many
agreeable hours. She looked about; no Beast was
there. Then, although it was night, she ran out
into the garden, calling him and seeking him. She
was still searching for him when the grey of dawn
appeared. Then she was able to find her way,
and she sought the wilderness she had been in, in
her dream, and at last lit on the cavern of which
she had dreamed.

In fact, from this now issued the most lamentable
sighs and groans.

She ran in and saw the poor Beast stretched on
the earth, and evidently exceedingly weak and
suffering.

‘O Beast! Beast!’ she cried; ‘I am so sorry!
So heartily sorry that I have delayed my return.
Oh, tell me you will recover!

‘Nothing now will restore me but one thing,’ he
answered in a faint voice.

‘Tell me what that is, and it is yours.’

‘The rose,’ he answered—‘the white rose. You

G 97

DT
E.

HE

AST