He rose to his feet, still smiling. "And why not, little one? Because you think that I have not the strength?"
Chris looked up at him speculatively. She felt no shyness; he was not the sort of person with whom she could feel shy. He was too kindly, too protecting, too altogether charming, for that. But he was of slender build, and she could not help entertaining a very decided doubt as to his physical powers.
"I am much heavier—and much older—than you think," she remarked at length.
He laughed boyishly, as if she had made a joke. "Mais c'est drôle, cela! Me, I have no thoughts upon the subject, mademoiselle. I believe what I see, and I assure you that I am well capable of carrying you across the rocks to Valpré. You lodge at Valpré?"
Chris nodded. "And you? No," hastily checking herself, "don't tell me!
You live in the Magic Cave, of course. I knew you were there. It was why
I came."
"You knew, mademoiselle?" His eyes interrogated her.
She nodded again in answer. "You have lived there for hundreds of years. You were under a spell, and I came and broke it. If I hadn't cut my foot, you would have been there still. Do you really think you can lift me? And what shall you do when you come to cross the rocks? They are much too slippery to walk on."
He stooped to raise her, still smiling. "Have no fear, mademoiselle! I know these rocks by heart."
She laughed with a child's pure merriment. "Oh, I am not afraid, preux chevalier. But if you find me too heavy—"
"If I cannot carry the queen of the fairies," he interrupted, "I am not worthy of the name."