And now the merchant followed, dumb with a despair that had no words, while Beauty on her horse went shining through the wood. Sorrowfully the winds made dole in the leafy boughs above their heads. And ever as they went the trees grew more thick together, with black night down within the forest depths. Twisted roots crawled serpent-wise across the path, and needs must the travellers go carefully and slow. Night drew on, and the man began to mark the way with care, and sought through the darkness for the old stone wall, he thought to be not far from that place. Right so there came to them some glimmer of moon-litten stone between the trees, anigh the dimness of their path. And now the long garden wall echoed back the sound of the iron-shod hoofs. But smooth and without break seemed that length of ordered stones. And though the man sought painfully, feeling with his hands where the shadows fell thickest, yet it seemed he might never find the little door. Many an odorous wave of delicious fragrance came over from the other side. And in the uncertain light, Beauty perceived an over-hanging of white roses amidst tangled weeds. And therewithal, as in a dream strange things do happen with great ease and likelihood, so whilst yet they sought the entrance, on a sudden they were within the garden of the Beast. Light seemed to shine from the far end of a wide grassy way, and onward to that light, must they go. After a few paces the travellers came anear the lighted windows and open gates of a large fair manor. Gently her father lifted down Beauty from the horse, and leaving him to go whither he would, they entered, dazzled with a great silvery blaze of light. These twain were utterly alone. No sound, no living creature greeted them there.