I at once proceeded to question him.
“What is the name of this chateau?”
“The chateau of the Sleeping Beauty, that is, of the Sleeping Woods.”
I could hardly have imagined a name more perfectly responding to the enchantment which had taken possession of me since my entrance into the valley.
“Was it not an ancient nunnery?”
“Perhaps—once upon a time, long ago. No one knows how long.”
“Before the Revolution?”
“Long before that. At the Revolution it belonged to the Count.”
“What Count?”
“Count d’Alligny. The same whose grandson sold it.”