THE prince walked from room to room of the palace; but, unless he wrapped himself up in a curtain, there was nothing for him to wear when he went out in the rain.  At last he climbed up a turret-stair in the very oldest part of the castle, where he had never been before; and at the very top was a little round room, a kind of garret.  The prince pushed in the door with some difficulty - not that it was locked, but the handle was rusty, and the wood had swollen with the damp.  The room was very dark; only the last grey light of the rainy evening came through a slit of a window, one of those narrow windows that they used to fire arrows out of in old times.

But in the dusk the prince saw a heap of all sorts of things lying on the floor and on the table.  There were two caps; he put one on - an old, grey, ugly cap it was, made of felt.  There was a pair of boots; and he kicked off his slippers, and got into them.  They were a good deal worn, but fitted as if they had been made for him.  On the table was a purse with just three gold coins - old ones, too - in it; and this, as you may fancy, the prince was very well pleased to put in his pocket.  A sword, with a sword-belt, he buckled about his waist; and the rest of the articles, a regular collection of odds and ends, he left just where they were lying.  Then he ran downstairs, and walked out of the hall door.