thenarratorandthelittleprince,thirsty,huntforawellinthedesert ItwasnowtheeighthdaysinceIhadhadmyaccidentinthedesert,andIhadlistenedtothestoryofthemerchantasIwasdrinkingthelastdropofmywatersupply. "Ah,"Isaidtothelittleprince,"thesememoriesofyoursareverycharming;butIhavenotyetsucceededinrepairingmyplane;Ihavenothingmoretodrink;andI,too,shouldbeveryhappyifIcouldwalkatmyleisuretowardaspringoffreshwater!" "Myfriendthefox--"thelittleprincesaidtome. "Mydearlittleman,thisisnolongeramatterthathasanythingtodowiththefox!" "BecauseIamabouttodieofthirst..." Hedidnotfollowmyreasoning,andheansweredme: "Itisagoodthingtohavehadafriend,evenifoneisabouttodie.I,forinstance,amverygladtohavehadafoxasafriend..." "Hehasnowayofguessingthedanger,"Isaidtomyself."Hehasneverbeeneitherhungryorthirsty.Alittlesunshineisallheneeds..." Buthelookedatmesteadily,andrepliedtomythought: "Iamthirsty,too.Letuslookforawell..." Imadeagestureofweariness.Itisabsurdtolookforawell,atrandom,intheimmensityofthedesert.Butneverthelesswestartedwalking. Whenwehadtrudgedalongforseveralhours,insilence,thedarknessfell,andthestarsbegantocomeout.Thirsthadmademealittlefeverish,andIlookedatthemasifIwereinadream.Thelittleprince'slastwordscamereelingbackintomymemory: "Thenyouarethirsty,too?"Idemanded. Buthedidnotreplytomyquestion.Hemerelysaidtome: "Watermayalsobegoodfortheheart..." Ididnotunderstandthisanswer,butIsaidnothing.Iknewverywellthatitwasimpossibletocross-examinehim. Hewastired.Hesatdown.Isatdownbesidehim.And,afteralittlesilence,hespokeagain: "Thestarsarebeautiful,becauseofaflowerthatcannotbeseen." Ireplied,"Yes,thatisso."And,withoutsayinganythingmore,Ilookedacrosstheridgesofsandthatwerestretchedoutbeforeusinthemoonlight. "Thedesertisbeautiful,"thelittleprinceadded. Andthatwastrue.Ihavealwayslovedthedesert.Onesitsdownonadesertsanddune,seesnothing,hearsnothing.Yetthroughthesilencesomethingthrobs,andgleams... "Whatmakesthedesertbeautiful,"saidthelittleprince,"isthatsomewhereithidesawell..." Iwasastonishedbyasuddenunderstandingofthatmysteriousradiationofthesands.WhenIwasalittleboyIlivedinanoldhouse,andlegendtoldusthatatreasurewasburiedthere.Tobesure,noonehadeverknownhowtofindit;perhapsnoonehadeverevenlookedforit.Butitcastanenchantmentoverthathouse.Myhomewashidingasecretinthedepthsofitsheart... "Yes,"Isaidtothelittleprince."Thehouse,thestars,thedesert--whatgivesthemtheirbeautyissomethingthatisinvisible!" "Iamglad,"hesaid,"thatyouagreewithmyfox." Asthelittleprincedroppedofftosleep,Itookhiminmyarmsandsetoutwalkingoncemore.Ifeltdeeplymoved,andstirred.ItseemedtomethatIwascarryingaveryfragiletreasure.Itseemedtome,even,thattherewasnothingmorefragileonallEarth.InthemoonlightIlookedathispaleforehead,hisclosedeyes,hislocksofhairthattrembledinthewind,andIsaidtomyself:"WhatIseehereisnothingbutashell.Whatismostimportantisinvisible..." Ashislipsopenedslightlywiththesuspiciousofahalf-smile,Isaidtomyself,again:"Whatmovesmesodeeply,aboutthislittleprincewhoissleepinghere,ishisloyaltytoaflower--theimageofarosethatshinesthroughhiswholebeingliketheflameofalamp,evenwhenheisasleep..."AndIfelthimtobemorefragilestill.Ifelttheneedofprotectinghim,asifhehimselfwereaflamethatmightbeextinguishedbyalittlepuffofwind... And,asIwalkedonso,Ifoundthewell,atdaybreak.