He knew no more about who he was, or where he was, or anything--he just slept as soundly as a little top, without dreaming or starting in the least, for--dear me, I don't know for how long!--any way it must have been for several hours, when--in the strange sudden way in which once or twice before it had happened to him to awake in this curious tapestry room, he opened his eyes as if startled by an electric shock, and gazed out before him, as much awake as if he had never been asleep in his life.
What had awakened him, and what did he see?
He could hardly have told what had awakened him but for what he _now_ saw and heard.

A voice, a very well-known little voice, was speaking to him.

"Cheri dear," it said, "Cheri, I have come for you.

And see what I have got for you." And there before him stood little Jeanne--but Jeanne as he had never seen her before.

She seemed all glistening and shining--her dress was of some kind of sparkling white, and round her waist was a lovely silver girdle--her sleeves too were looped up with silver bands, and, prettiest of all, two snow-white wings were fastened to her shoulders.