Nothing that could make for the queen's comfort was forgotten by the
Frog, and there was even a bed of wild thyme. When the wicked fairy learnt that the queen was not sleeping on the
ground, she sent for her and asked:

'What power is it, human or divine, that protects you? This land drinks
only a rain of burning sulphur, and has never produced so much as a
sage-leaf: yet they tell me fragrant herbs spring up beneath your feet.' 'I cannot explain it, madam,' said the queen, 'unless it is due to the
child I am expecting. Perhaps for her a less unhappy fate than mine is
in store.' 'I have a craving just now,' said the Witch, 'for a posy of rare
flowers. See if this happiness which you expect will enable you to get
them. If you do not succeed, such a thrashing as I know well how to give
is surely in store for you.' The queen began to weep, for threats like these distressed her, and she
despaired as she thought of the impossibility of finding flowers. But
when she returned to her little house, the friendly Frog met her. 'How unhappy you look!' she said. 'Alas, dear friend,' said the queen, 'who would not be so? The Witch has
demanded a posy of the most beautiful flowers. Where am I to find them? You see what sort of flowers grow here! Yet my life is forfeit if I do
not procure them.' 'Dear queen,' said the Frog tenderly, 'we must do our best to extricate
you from this dilemma. Hereabouts there lives a bat of my
acquaintance--a kindly soul. She moves about more quickly than I do, so
I will give her my cap of roses, and with the aid of this she will be
able to find you flowers.' The queen curtseyed low, it being quite impossible to embrace the Frog,
and the latter went off at once to speak to the bat. In a few hours the
bat came back with some exquisite flowers tucked under her wings. Off
went the queen with them to the Witch, who was more astonished than
ever, being quite unable to understand in what marvellous way the queen
had been assisted. The queen never ceased to plot some means of escape, and told the Frog
of her longings. 'Madam,' said the latter, 'allow me first to take
counsel with my little cap, and we will make plans according to what it
advises.' Having placed her cap upon some straw, she burnt in front of
it a few juniper twigs, some capers, and a couple of green peas. She
then croaked five times. This completed the rites, and having donned her
cap again, she began to speak like an oracle. 'Fate, the all-powerful, decrees that you must not leave this place. You will have a little princess more beautiful than Venus herself. Let
nothing fret you; time alone can heal.' The queen bowed her head and shed tears, but she determined to have
faith in the friend she had found. 'Whatever happens,' she said, 'do not
leave me here alone, and befriend me when my little one is born.' The
Frog promised to remain with her, and did her best to comfort her. It is now time to return to the king. So long as the enemy kept him
confined within his capital he could not regularly send messengers to
the queen. But at length, after many sorties, he forced the enemy to
raise the siege. This success gave him pleasure not so much on his own
account, as for the sake of the queen, who could now be brought home in
safety. He knew nothing of the disaster which had befallen her, for none
of his retinue had dared to tell him of it. They had found in the forest
the remains of the chariot, the runaway horses, and the apparel in which
she had driven forth to find her husband, and being convinced that she
was killed or devoured by wild beasts, their one idea was to make the
king believe that she had died suddenly. It seemed as if the king could not survive this mournful news. He tore
his hair, wept bitterly, and lamented his loss with all manner of
sorrowful cries and sobs and sighs. For several days he would see
nobody, and hid himself from view. Later, he returned to his capital and
entered upon a long period of mourning, to the sincerity of which his
heartfelt sorrow bore even plainer testimony than his sombre garb of
woe. His royal neighbours all sent ambassadors with messages of
condolence, and when the ceremonies proper to these occasions were at
length over, he proclaimed a period of peace. He released his subjects
from military service, and devoted himself to giving them every
assistance in the development of commerce. Of all this the queen knew nothing. A little princess had been born to
her in the meantime, and her beauty did not belie the Frog's prediction. They gave her the name of Moufette, but the queen had great difficulty
in persuading the Witch to let her bring up the child, for her ferocity
was such that she would have liked to eat it. At the age of six months Moufette was a marvel of beauty, and often, as
she gazed upon her with mingled tenderness and pity, the queen would
say:

'Could your father but see you, my poor child, how delighted he would
be, and how dear you would be to him! But perhaps even now he has begun
to forget me: doubtless he believes that death has robbed him of us, and
it may be that another now fills the place I had in his affections.' Many were the tears she shed over these sad thoughts, and the Frog,
whose love for her was sincere, was moved one day by the sight of her
grief to say to her:

'If you like, Madam, I will go and seek your royal husband. It is a long
journey, and I am but a tardy traveller, but sooner or later I have no
doubt I shall get there.' [Illustration: "COULD YOUR FATHER BUT SEE YOU, MY POOR CHILD."] No suggestion could have been more warmly approved, the queen clasping
her hands, and bidding little Moufette do the same, in token of the
gratitude she felt towards the good Frog for offering to make the
expedition. Nor would the king, she declared, be less grateful. 'Of what
advantage, however,' she went on, 'will it be to him to learn that I
am in this dire abode, since it will be impossible for him to rescue me
from it?' 'That we must leave to Providence, Madam,' said the Frog; 'we can but
make those efforts of which we are capable.' They took farewell of each other, and the queen sent a message to the
king. This was written with her blood on a piece of rag, for she had
neither ink nor paper. The good Frog was bringing him news of herself,
she wrote, and she implored him to give heed to all that she might tell
him, and to believe everything she had to say. It took the Frog a year and four days to climb the ten thousand steps
which led from the gloomy realm in which she had left the queen, up into
the world. Another year was spent in preparing her equipage, for she was
too proud to consent to appear at Court like a poor and humble frog from
the marshes. A little sedan-chair was made for her, large enough to hold
a couple of eggs comfortably, and this was covered outside with
tortoise-shell and lined with lizard-skin.