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When the dance was at an end she curtsied; and when the king

looked round for her, she was gone, no one knew wither. The

guards that stood at the castle gate were called in: but they had

seen no one. The truth was, that she had run into her little

cabin, pulled off her dress, blackened her face and hands, put on

the fur-skin cloak, and was Cat-skin again. When she went into

the kitchen to her work, and began to rake the ashes, the cook

said, 'Let that alone till the morning, and heat the king's soup;

I should like to run up now and give a peep: but take care you

don't let a hair fall into it, or you will run a chance of never

eating again.'