He thought she was dying, and took her in his arms again to carry her to the princess's house, where he thought the good-natured cook might be able to do something for her.

When he lifted her, the tears flowed yet faster, and she gave such a sad moan that it went to his very heart.
"Mother, mother!" he said.

"Poor mother!" and kissed her on the withered lips.
She started; and what eyes they were that opened upon him! But he did not see them, for it was still very dark, and he had enough to do to make his way through the trees towards the house.
Just as he approached the door, feeling more tired than he could have imagined possible--she was such a little thin old thing--she began to move, and became so restless that, unable to carry her a moment longer, he thought to lay her on the grass.

But she stood upright on her feet.
Her hood had dropped, and her hair fell about her.

The first gleam of the morning was caught on her face: that face was bright as the never-aging Dawn, and her eyes were lovely as the sky of darkest blue.
The prince recoiled in overmastering wonder.