When she had accepted the gift, the Princess mounted, and the whole company returned to the beaten track and went forward on their road. The sun grew hot, and as noonday came on she ate the fruit, thinking that she had never tasted anything so delicious. They rode by brook and meadow, by hill and wood, and soon everyone began to wonder at the change which had come over the Princess. Those whom she had looked upon as friends all her life were now commanded to rein back, that they might not offend her dignity by their presence. She would scarce answer her father when he spoke, and, whereas in the early part of her journey she had taken pleasure in the beauty of the landscape, she now blamed the road as unfit for her horse’s feet to tread. “Not content with dragging me out to meet this sorry fellow,” she said, “you must needs bring me by ways only fit for peasants.” Her father and his people looked aghast. Never before had they heard her speak in such a manner. [Illustration: “SHE WOULD SCARCE ANSWER HER FATHER WHEN HE SPOKE.”] When the shadows were long they halted again, and soon they could distinguish a company of horsemen between them and the hills. The Princess withdrew to her tent, for she knew that the distant spearmen must be the unknown King’s following, and that in a short time she would be summoned to receive him. She called her maids, and when they had dressed her in her state robes, she took a knife and made a slit in the curtains that she might see the King’s arrival without being seen. As she stood watching the little band advancing, she was surprised to hear her father’s voice almost beside the tent. She ran towards the place, and, cutting another slit, looked through and saw him in conversation with a man-at-arms, who had just dismounted from the steaming horse he held. He was dressed from head to heel in russet leather, and a steel helmet, with spreading steel wings, was on his head. He was tall and brown, and his white teeth gleamed as he smiled. “Sire,” he was saying, “I beg you to forgive this unceremonious coming. When I saw your tents on the plain and knew that the Princess was so near, I could contain myself no longer and galloped forward with all speed. I will not dare to enter her presence till my people have arrived, and I have cast off the dust of the road. But wait I could not. I hope your Majesty will forgive me.” And so this rash, leather-clad soldier was the King—this careless, dusty fellow who was loosening his horse’s girths as any common groom might do! Did he think to thrust himself thus, without ceremony, into the following of a royal Princess? Behind her curtains she turned away, biting her lips, and she was still frowning when her father entered. “Daughter,” said he, “the King is here and I have spoken with him.” “And what is he like?” inquired she, her voice cold with scorn. “He is the most gallant-looking gentleman that ever I saw,” said the old man. The Princess turned her back.