But these ladies in their elegant fur-trimmed gowns and their dainty little ways,--would anything that the inn afforded be half good enough for them? The landlord soon found, however, that the greatest lady among them, the princess herself, was sweet and gracious, and she even kissed the dimpled face of the baby, an act on her part which never was forgotten, and which the child herself lived to tell to her grandchildren, always pointing to the exact spot which her good mother had informed her had been brushed by the rosy lips of her Highness, the Lady Marguerite of Hapsburg. And the other ladies were obliged to unbend in imitation of their young mistress, and so they were far less awe-inspiring than had been expected. The ladies accompanied the hunters a little way up the mountain, until the ascent became steep and tiresome, and then they returned to the inn. There the princess, who was very fond of pets, was greatly attracted by a baby chamois, a little kid, which had been adopted by the landlord's children. He was a cunning little fellow, with bright eyes that seemed to sparkle with fun when she stroked his foolish little face and soft velvety ears. When she spoke to him he would turn his head to one side as if reflecting upon what the lady had said, seeming to be thinking very hard with a view of giving a suitable reply, and then he would double himself up and roll about like a kitten. In the meantime the emperor's party were climbing higher, an ascent which grew more and more difficult as they continued. Le Glorieux, who had hunted the chamois in the company of his late master, was acquainted with the ways of this elusive animal, which is one of the most difficult in the world to hunt. But to Philibert and Antoine the experience was new and strange. These three were a little behind the others when Le Glorieux said, pointing to the right, "There is one!" "Oh, that," said Philibert, "is nothing but a rock. You are prepared to see a chamois in every distant object." "I am very much mistaken," said the other, "if that is not a sentinel sent out to watch for danger, while the others may take their breakfast in peace. You have no idea what a very clever animal the chamois is. If a good many kings and emperors were half as keen to scent danger it would be a great deal better for the countries they rule." "What is the good of a chamois being a sentinel?" asked Antoine. "If that is one he is too far away from the others to call their attention to danger." "Not a bit of it," was the reply. "He is too clever to get too far away to give the signal; trust him to look out for that. If he should see us he would say in his way, which would be to stamp his forefeet and give a shrill kind of a whistle, 'Here are some of those disgusting human beings with their bows and arrows. Get out of their way as fast as you can, every one of you!'"