"I don't know exactly. I'm not quite sure. Yes, I think I thought perhaps you'd come. But oh! if you please, Monsieur Dudu," he exclaimed, suddenly starting up, "do let me go and call Jeanne. I promised her I would if you came, or if I saw anything funny. Do let me go. I won't be a minute." But the raven cocked his head on one side and looked at Hugh rather sternly. "No," he said. "You cannot go for Jeanne. I do not wish it at present." Hugh felt rather angry. Why should Dudu lay down the law to him in this way? "But I promised," he began. "People should not promise what they are not sure of being able to perform," he said sententiously. "Besides, even if you did go to get Jeanne, she couldn't come. She is ever so far away." "Away!" repeated Hugh in amazement, "away! Little Jeanne gone away. Oh no, you must be joking Du--, I beg your pardon, Monsieur Dudu." "Not at all," said Dudu. "She _is_ away, and farther away than you or she has any notion of, even though if you went into her room you would see her little rosy face lying on the pillow. _She_ is away." Hugh still looked puzzled, though rather less so. "You mean that her thinking is away, I suppose," he said. "But I could wake her." Again the raven cocked his head on one side. "No," he said. "You must be content to do my way at present. Now, tell me what it is you want. Why did you wish me to come to see you?" "I wanted--at least I thought, and Jeanne said so," began Hugh. "We thought perhaps you were a fairy, Monsieur Dudu, and that you could take us into the castle in the tapestry. It looked so bright and real a few minutes ago," he added, turning to the wall, which was now only faintly illumined by the moonlight, and looked no different from what Hugh had often seen it in the daytime. "What has become of the beautiful light, Monsieur Dudu? And the peacocks? They have shut up their tails again----" "Never mind," said the raven. "So you want to see the castle, do you?" he added. "Yes," said Hugh; "but not so much as Jeanne. It was she wanted it most. She wants dreadfully to see it. _I_ thought," he added, rather timidly, "_I_ thought we might play at giving a party in the castle, and inviting Houpet, you know, and Nibble." "_Only_," observed the raven, drily, "there is one little objection to that. _Generally_--I may be mistaken, of course, my notions are very old-fashioned, I daresay--but, _generally_, people give parties in their own houses, don't they?" And as he spoke he looked straight at Hugh, cocking his head on one side more than ever. CHAPTER IV. THE FOREST OF THE RAINBOWS. "Rose and amethyst, gold and grey." "ONCE." Hugh felt rather offended. It was natural that he should do so, I think. At least I am sure that in his place I too should have felt hurt. He had said nothing to make the raven speak in that disagreeably sarcastic way.