"Away with you, child!" he said. "I am weary and peevish. Do you not know better than to awaken a sleeping lion?"
"Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew!" The child sneezed again so violently that she nearly fell into the haycock.
The Lion was agitated. "What can this mean?" he thought. "It must be an accident which has caused her to sneeze at the word. I will try again." He began firmly, "When a lion--" But again he was interrupted by the violent sneezing of the little maid as soon as the word had passed his teeth.
The Lion shivered. Could this really be? Was it possible that this vagrant was an offshoot of the noble family which he had been seeking? If so, he must be in no hurry to claim relationship! The child put her hand into her basket, smiling.
"Good Lion," she said, "Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew! I like you. Will you have a bit of bread?" And she held out to him a fragment of her luncheon.
The Lion was touched. He did not like bread, but he could not refuse a child, and he ate it painfully. "What is your name?" he asked at length.
"Claribel," she answered.
"Your other name?" he persisted.
"Claribel," she repeated. "Just Claribel--that is all."
"Where do you live?" asked the Lion.