Beppo knew that he was to follow him again. This time the princess was to go along. The tall man in black led the way, and Beppo and the princess followed along the secret passage and up and down the stairs until at last they came out into the garden again.
And now the evening was beginning to fall.
The man led the way down the garden to the river, and still Beppo and the princess followed him.
By-and-by they came to the river-side and to a flight of steps, and there was a little frail boat without sail or oars.
The tall man in black beckoned towards the boat, and Beppo knew that he and princess were to enter it.
As soon as Beppo had helped the princess into the boat the tall man thrust it out into the stream with his foot, and the boat drifted away from the shore and out into the river, and then around and around. Then it floated off down the stream.
It floated on and on, and the sun set and the moon rose.
Beppo looked at the princess, and he thought he had never seen any one so beautiful in all his life. It was all like a dream, and he hoped he might never waken. But the princess sat there weeping and weeping, and said nothing.
The night fell darker and darker, but still Beppo sat looking at the princess. Her face was as white as silver in the moonlight. The smell of the flower-gardens came across the river. The boat floated on and on until by-and-by it drifted to the shore again and among the river reeds, and there it stopped, and Beppo carried the princess ashore.
“Listen,” said the princess. “Do you know who I am?”