Presently he was back, with a lovely glossy skin in his hands.

"The bear is for your father, mademoiselle," said he.

"This little skin I have brought from America for you.

It is but a trifle, and yet it may serve to make a pair of mocassins or a pouch." Adele gave a cry of delight as her hands sank into the depths of its softness.

She might well admire it, for no king in the world could have had a finer skin.