u? Bravo, sweet creature! You may stand now
between me and Prince Reginald as much as you please. It's all my
work. I tell you once for all, I hate you, Hildegarde."

Was this Zora's return for her cousin's love? The princess would fain
have expressed her grief and amazement.

"Pray don't try to talk, my bonny wee thing! It is not one of your
gifts, at present. Your voice has ceased to be musical. I can sing now
as well as you. Go to nibbling grass, deary, and a long life to you!"

Then the treacherous Zora turned on her heel, and left her poor cousin
to her mute despair.

A search was made far and wide for the missing princess. Forests were
hunted, rivers were dragged; but without avail. Deep gloom fell on the
people, and the queen nearly died of sorrow. They all believed Hilda
dead, all but Zora, who knew too well her cruel fate.

Then Zora was treated like the king's daughter. Wherever she went,
there were servants to follow her; yet none loved her, and behind her
back they made wry faces, and said she looked like one who was
tormented by evil fairies.

But, alas for Zora, nothing more was seen of Prince Reginald. She
watched the windows day after day, hoping to see him ride by on his
coal-black steed; but he never came. Then she grew crosser than ever,
and the frown on her brow ploughed deeper still. She dreamed every
night of horrible goblins and slender green snakes.

All the while, poor Hildegarde roamed about the park. The other lambs
were content to nip the sweet grass, and frisk in the sun; but the
princess remembered something better, for her soul did not sleep.

The king himself, in his walks, was struck with the beauty of the
lamb; its fleece was far softer, finer, and whiter than was common.
He said to his chief shepherd, "Watch well yonder snow-white lamb, and
give it particular care."

For there was something in its soft dark eyes, as they were raised to
his face, which stirred the king's heart, though he knew not why.

One day the city was thrown into a great tumult. A lion had been seen
in the thicket which bordered the park. The huntsmen, hearing of it,
stole out privately to waylay him in a snare. He was caught alive by
the king's favorite huntsman. It was agreed that such a fine lion had
never been seen before; and the king ordered a strong iron cage for
the beast, and made his favorite huntsman his keeper.

Now the cage was in the midst of the park; and such was the terror of
the sheep