This and much else said good man Jean, but George listened no longer after he heard that Honey-Bee was a captive among the dwarfs. “The dwarfs hold Honey-Bee captive under the earth,” he pondered; “a dwarf rescued me from my crystal dungeon; these little men have not all the same customs; my deliverer cannot be of the same race as those who stole my sister.” He knew not what to think except that he must rescue Honey-Bee. In the meantime they crossed the town, and on their way the gossips standing on the thresholds of their houses asked each other who was this young stranger, but they all agreed that he was very handsome. The better informed amongst them, having recognised the young lord of Blanchelande, decided that it must be his ghost, wherefore they fled, making great signs of the cross. “He must be sprinkled with holy water,” said one old crone, “and he will vanish leaving a disgusting smell of sulphur. He will carry away Master Jean, and he will of course plunge him alive into the fire of hell.” “Softly! old woman,” a citizen replied, “his lordship is alive and much more alive than you or I. He is as fresh as a rose, and he looks as if he had come from some noble court rather than from the other world. One does return from afar, good dame. As witness Francoeur the squire who came back from Rome last midsummer day.” And Margaret the helmet-maker, having greatly admired George, mounted to her maiden chamber and kneeling before the image of the Holy Virgin prayed, “Holy Virgin, grant me a husband who shall look precisely like this young lord.” So each in his way talked of George’s return until the news spread from mouth to mouth and finally reached the ears of the Duchess who was walking-in the orchard. Her heart beat violently and she heard all the birds in the hedge-row sing: “Cui, cui, cui, Oui, oui, oui, Georges de Blanchelande, Cui, cui, cui. Dont vous avez nourri l’enfance Cui, cui, cui, Est ici, est ici, est ici! Oui, oui, oui.” Francoeur approached her respectfully and said: “Your Grace, George de Blanchelande whom you thought dead has returned. I shall make it into a song.” In the meantime the birds sang: “Cucui, cui, cui, cui, cui, Oui, oui, oui, oui, oui, oui, Il est ici, ici, ici, ici, ici, ici.” And when she saw the child who had been to her as a son, she opened her arms and fell senseless at his feet. XX Which treats of a little satin shoe Everybody in Clarides was quite convinced that Honey-Bee had been stolen by the dwarfs. Even the Duchess believed it, though her dreams did not tell her precisely. “We will find her again,” said George. “We will find her again,” replied Francoeur. “And we will bring her back to her mother,” said George. “And we will bring her back,” replied Francoeur. “And we will marry her,” said George.