On the first night of every week the Enchantress would disappear, going out in a car drawn by great owls, and not returning till dawn. He longed to go with her, because he was weary for a change of scene, and because he thought it possible that he might find some chance of escape. So one evening, seeing that she was about to depart, he sighed heavily. “Lady,” he said, “if you knew how long these evenings seem to me when you are away, you would never have the heart to go.” “Are not all my dancing-girls and musicians here to while away the time?” replied she, looking very softly at him. “What do I care for them?” said he. “Is there one who has a voice like yours, or a face to be compared with yours? No, no. If I have to part with you, my only wish is to be alone.” The Enchantress was delighted. “I must go, nevertheless,” she said. “For a long time past I have spent the first night of every week in a visit to the Bat-King, who rules over an enchanted forest some leagues from here. If I were to disappoint him, he would never forgive me. I have to go after dark and return before sunrise, as he can only see at night, and spends his days sleeping among the trees.” The King made as though he were jealous. “And who is this Bat-King that he should rob me of you?” he cried in an angry voice. “Well, well,” said the Enchantress, laughing, “there is only one thing for it—you must come too. For I cannot vex the Bat-King by my absence, and you can delight yourself with my company while we go and come.” Then, as though she guessed his thoughts, she continued: “If I did not know you loved me, I would tell you that you need not hope to escape from me in the forest. The Bat-King has millions of subjects, and he has only to sign to them to put you to death should you attempt it.” They went out, and on the ramparts her chariot waited her. The King could not tell what it was made of, but it looked like one of those clouds that cross the setting sun before a stormy night; six enormous owls were harnessed to it and stood ready for a flight, their yellow eyes fixed on space. A servant handed a long scourge of plaited twigs to the Enchantress. When she and the King had seated themselves, the car rose into the air, and they were soon rushing across the sky. Away they went, leaving the earth far under them; they flew over towns twinkling with lights and rivers which lay in the darkness like shining snakes. Sometimes a heavy bird of prey would pass on its way beneath them, and sometimes the cry of a nightjar would come up from below. At last they came upon a dark mass covering many miles, which the Enchantress told him was the forest of the Bat-King. A curious twilight shone through the branches, caused by the presence of many glow-worms. The owls lit upon an open patch among the trees, and she got out of the car, telling the King to remain beside her as he valued his life. The owls crouched near, ruffling as they settled.