The Real Kitchen-Maid crept silently down the marble stairs, but once she was out of the Palace she ran like the wind to the stable. No men were about there—all had followed the example of the Court, and had run away when they heard of the strange coming of the witch-Cat. And of all the many horses that had stood in the stable only one remained, for each man in his fright had saddled the first horse that came to hand and ridden off on it. And the one that still stayed there was the Prince’s own black charger. He had had no mind to be saddled in haste by a stranger, and had turned and bitten the stranger who had attempted it. So he was there alone. Now the little Kitchen-Maid lifted the Prince’s gold-broidered saddle from its perch, and the weight of it was such that she could not have carried it but for the heavy heart she bore because of her love to the Prince and his danger, and that made all else seem light. She put the saddle on the charger, and the jewelled bridle. And he neighed with pleasure, for he understood, being a horse who could see as far into a stone wall as most people. And when he was saddled he knelt for her to mount, and then up and away like the wind, and she had no need to guide him with the reins, for he found the way and kept it. He galloped steadily on, and the sun went down and the night grew dark, and he went on, and on, and on without stumble or pause, till at moonrise he halted before the house of the Great White Rat. Then, as the Real Kitchen-Maid sprang down, the Great White Rat came out from his house and spoke. “You’ve come for it, then?” “For what?” “The Magic Cat’s-eye. I’ve guarded it some thousands of years. I knew there would be a use for it at last. He may be saved yet, if some one should love him well enough to die for him.” “I do that,” said the little Kitchen-Maid, and took the Cat’s-eye in her hands. “Swallow it,” said the White Rat, “and you’ll turn into a mouse.” The little maid swallowed it at once, and, behold! she was a little mouse. “What am I to do?” she asked. “I can’t tell you,” said the Great White Rat, “but Love will tell you.” So the little Kitchen-Maid, in the form of the mouse, ran up one of the horse’s legs, and held tight on to the saddle with all her little claws. And as the great horse galloped back towards the palace in the moonlight, she thought and thought, and at last she said to herself— “The witch is in cat’s shape, and she must have cat nature, so she will run after a mouse. She will run after _me_, and if I can lead her to a running stream she will leap across it, and then she will have to take her own shape again. That must be what the Great White Rat meant me to do. And if the Cat catches me—well, at least if I can’t save my Prince I can die for him.” And the thought warmed her heart as the great horse thundered on through the dawn-light.