For some moments nothing happened; but presently a little trickling was heard in the wall. It became louder and louder, and at last, by the dim light, they could distinguish a rivulet running in a tiny thread out of a crack between the stones. It went on increasing in volume until the water covered the floor and rose round the Princess’s ankles. “Alas!” she cried, “the cruel stream has played me false, and we shall certainly be drowned like rats in this fearful place!” “Wait a bit,” replied the dwarf, who was already up to his knees; “do not despair, we still have the leaf.” Still the water continued to rise; the Princess, who was horribly frightened, took the leaf that had been given her from the bosom of her gown, and, thinking of the old woman, touched it with the third finger of her left hand. As she did so it began to spread and spread, and at last grew so large and heavy that she could no longer hold it but laid it down. It floated like a boat on the water, and, though it still looked like a leaf, it became the size of a good large tea-tray, and then stopped growing. Moonflower, who was up to her waist in water, clung to the wonderful leaf, and at last succeeded in seating herself upon it; she then helped Grimaçon to do the same, for the little fellow had been swimming for the last ten minutes. What was their surprise when they got into this strange boat to find that the water had not wet them, and that their clothes were perfectly dry. The flood rose and rose, and the leaf and its burden rose with it, till at last they were half way up the wall, and, in a surprisingly short time, had reached the level of the window. The water began rushing out of it, carrying the leaf so swiftly that the Princess thought they would be dashed against the window-bars. What was her wonder on finding that, as the foremost point touched them, they melted away, and with a cry of joy she and her faithful dwarf sailed into the open air. “Hold tightly, your Highness,” he exclaimed, “for the pace we are going at is terrific.” The water rushed headlong over fields and pastures, carrying them for several miles, at the end of which it joined itself to the stream the Princess had met in the wood. Moonflower sailed smoothly along, past forests and meadows, past castles and huts, till she came to the city where her own palace stood. On the terrace of the garden she beheld her wicked aunt walking up and down (for the stream ran close by the palace walls). She saw her gesticulating as she went, and heard her cry out, “Miserable girl! Thank heaven she may never return—the throne may yet be mine!”