Soon after, Puss caught a brace of partridges, and these, too, he carried to the palace. The King was as gracious as before; again he thanked the Marquis, and gave the cat a handsome present. So things went on; from time to time Puss carried game to the King, who always showed him the greatest favor. At last, one day, when the cat had learned that the King and his daughter, the loveliest princess in the whole world, were to drive through their village that afternoon, he ran to his master, and cried: “Quick! Quick! Do as I tell you, and your fortune is made forever. Take off your clothes, jump into the river, and leave the rest to me.” So saying, he took the young man’s workaday clothes and hid them under a large rock. Then, as he heard the rumble of chariot wheels on the high road, he began to cry at the top of his voice: “Help! Help! My master, the Marquis of Carabas, is drowning!” The King, hearing these shouts, popped his head out of the coach window, and seeing the cat who had so many times brought him presents of game, he commanded his guards to go to the rescue of the Marquis. “Alas, your Majesty!” cried Puss, “my master’s clothes have been stolen. While he was bathing, robbers came and carried them away, and although I cried, ‘Stop, thief! Stop, thief!’ I could not prevent them from doing this wicked deed. And now he cannot appear before your Majesty.” “I will send the groom of my wardrobe for one of my finest suits,” said the King; and when the suit was brought, and the Marquis of Carabas had put it on, every one marvelled to see how handsome he was. The King invited him to get into the coach and drive with them, and, as for his daughter, the pretty Princess, she fell head over heels in love with him. All this time Puss had been busy, too. He ran quickly ahead of the coach, and, stopping at a fine field, he cried aloud to the peasants who were mowing it: “Good people! If you do not tell the King, when he rides by, that this field belongs to the Marquis of Carabas, I will chop you into mince-meat!” The peasants were very much frightened at this threat, and, when the King passed by, and asked them who owned the field, they cried with one voice, “It belongs to the Marquis of Carabas.” Puss, who was keeping ahead of the coach, had already come to the next field, a rich meadow which the laborers were reaping. “Good people,” he said to them, “when the King rides by, if you do not tell him that this meadow belongs to the Marquis of Carabas, I will make mince-meat of you!” Terrified, the peasants promised, and when the King asked them whose meadow they were reaping, they answered as one man, “Sire, it belongs to the Marquis of Carabas.” “You have some very fine property, Marquis,” said the King, pleased to find the young man as wealthy as he was handsome. And the Marquis seemed to grow richer, for Puss had stopped at each field, and the peasants declared that all the land there-abouts belonged to the Marquis of Carabas.