like to speak of that, for fear our troubles should return. Folks say we
were spell-bound. 'Tis so long ago that I can scarcely remember it, for I
was quite a little child then. But a wandering musician and his wife set us
free; at least, everything began to mend after they came, and now we think
they must have been angels from heaven, for next day they went, and we have
never seen them since."
"It was I and my wife Chrysea," cried Arasmon. "Have you seen her? Has she
been here? I have sought all over the world ever since, but I cannot find
her, and now I fear lest she be dead."
The girl stared at him in surprise. "You? you poor old man! Of what are you
talking? You must surely be mad to say such things. These musicians were
the most beautiful people upon the earth, and they were young and dressed
in shining white and gold, and you are old and gray and ragged, and surely
you are very ill too, for you seem to be so weak that you can scarcely
walk. Come home with me, and I will give you food and rest till you are
better."
Arasmon shook his head. "I am seeking Chrysea," he said, "and I will rest
no more till I have found her;" and the girl, seeing that he was
determined, left him alone and went on her way driving her cows before
her.
When she had gone Arasmon sat by the wayside and wept as though his heart
would break. "It is too true," he said; "I am so old and worn that when I
find her she will not know me," and as he again fell a-weeping his hand
struck the harp-strings, and they cried, "I have watched you through all
these years, my Arasmon. Take comfort, I am very near," and his tears
ceased, and he was soothed by the voice of the harp, though he knew not
why.
Then he rose. "I will go to the moor," he said, "and look for the tree on
which I found my harp, and that will be my last resting-place, for surely
my strength will carry me no farther." So he tottered slowly on, calling,
as he went, in a weak voice, "Chrysea, my Chrysea! are you here? I have
sought you over the world since you left me, and now that I am old and like
to die, I am come to seek you where we parted."
When he came upon the moor, he wondered again at the change of all the
country round. He thought of the charred, blackened waste on which he had
stood before, and now he looked with amazement at the golden gorse, the
purple heather, so thick that he could scarcely pick his way amongst it.
"It is a beautiful place now," he said, "but I liked it better years ago,
deserted and desolate though it was, for my Chrysea was here."
There were so many trees upon the common that he could not tell which was
the one on which his harp had hung, but, unable to go any farther, he
staggered and sank down beneath a large oak-tree, in whose branches a
blackbird was singing most sweetly. The sun was setting just as of yore
when he had found his harp, and most of the birds' songs were over, but
this one bird still sang sweet and clear, and Arasmon, tired and weak
though he was, raised his head and listened.
"I never heard bird sing like that," he said. "What is the tune it sings? I
will play it on my harp before I die." And with what strength remained to
him he reached forth his trembling hand, and grasping his harp struck upon
it the notes of the bird's song, then he fell back exhausted, and his eyes
closed.
At once the harp slid from his hand, and Chrysea stood beside him--Chrysea
dressed as of old, in shining white and gold, with bright hair and eyes.
"Arasmon!" she cried, "see, it is I, Chrysea!" but Arasmon did not move.
Then she raised her voice and sang more sweetly than the bird overhead, and
Arasmon opened his eyes and looked at her.
"Chrysea!" cried he; "I have found my wife Chrysea!" and he laid his head
on her bosom and died. And when Chrysea saw it her heart broke, and she lay
beside him and died without a word.
In the morning when some of the villagers crossed the common they saw
Arasmon and Chrysea lying beneath the oak-tree in each other's arms, and
drew near them, thinking they were asleep, but when they saw their faces
they knew they were dead.
Then an old man stooped and looked at Chrysea, and said,
"Surely it is the woman who came to us and sang long ago, when we were in
our troubles; and, though he is sadly changed and worn, it is like her
husband who played for her singing."
Then came the girl who had driven the cows and told them how she had met
Arasmon, and all he had said to her.
"He searched everywhere for his wife, he said," said she. "I am glad he has
found her. Where could she be?"
"Would that we had known it was he," said they all, "how we would have
greeted him! but see, he looks quite content and as if he wished nothing
more, since he has found his wife Chrysea."
[Illustration]
THE HEART OF PRINCESS JOAN
[Illustration]
Long ago, in the days of fairies, there lived a King and Queen, who were
rich and happy.
But the Queen was a proud, haughty woman, and disliked every one more
powerful than herself. And most of all, she hated the fairy folk, and could
not bear them to come to the castle where she and the King dwelt.
Time passed, and the Queen had a little baby,--a daughter whom they called
Joan--and the bells were rung, and there were great rejoicings all over the
country, and the King and Queen were happy as the day is long.
One day as the Queen sat by the cradle of the little Princess, watching
it, she said, "My pretty babe, when you are grown to be a woman you will be
rich and beautiful, and you shall marry some young Prince, who will love
you dearly, and then in your turn be Queen, and have a fine palace, and
jewels, and lands to your heart's content." Scarcely had she done speaking
when she heard a little noise beside her, and, looking up, saw a woman
dressed in yellow from head to foot standing on the other side of the
cradle. She wore a yellow cap, which covered her head completely, so that
no hair was seen, and her eyes, which looked cunning and fierce, were
yellow as her dress.
"And how do you know, Queen, that your child will be so happy? Whose help
will you seek to get her all these fine things?" said the strange woman.
"I will ask no one's help," said the Queen haughtily, "for I am Queen of
the land, and can have what I please."
The yellow woman laughed, and said, "Don't be too sure, proud Queen; but
the next night that the moon is bright, guard well the Princess when the
clock strikes twelve, lest aught of her's be stolen from her."
"No thief shall come near her," cried the Queen; but ere she had done
speaking the woman had vanished, and the Queen knew it was a fairy.
The sky that night was dark and overcast, and no moon to be seen, and the
next night was the same, but the third night the moon shone bright and
clear, and as the clock struck twelve the Queen awoke and looked at the
baby, who was sleeping peacefully in its cradle; but 'twixt the strokes of
the clock she heard a faint whistling outside the window, which grew louder
and fuller each moment. 'Twas as if some one whistled to decoy away a bird,
and on hearing it the baby awoke and began to cry bitterly. The Queen could
not quiet her, try how she might. At last the little one gave one scream
louder than all the others and then lay quite still, and at that moment the
Queen saw something flutter across the room like a tiny bird, with pink,
soft feathers. It flew straight out of the window, and the whistling
ceased, and all again was quiet as before. The Queen took the baby in her
arms and looked at it anxiously by the light of the moon, but it looked
well and slept calmly, so its mother placed it in its cradle and tried to
forget the yellow fairy and the whistling.
The nurse of the Princess Joan was a very wise old woman who knew a great
deal of fairies and their ways, and as the child grew up she watched her
with an anxious face.
"She is under a charm," she said, "though what it is I don't know; but
before she is a woman they will see how different she is from others."
The nurse's words proved to be true. No one had ever seen a little girl
like the Princess. Nothing troubled her. She never shed one tear. If she
were angry she would stamp her feet and her eyes would flash, but she never
wept, and she loved nobody. When her little dog died she laughed outright;
when the King her father went to the war it did not grieve her; and when he
returned she was no happier than she had been when he was away. She never
kissed her mother, or her ladies, and when they said they loved her, she
stared at them, and asked what they meant. At this the ladies were angry
with her and chid her for being hard-hearted, but the old nurse always
stopped them, saying,
"'Tis not her you should blame. She is enchanted, but 'tis not her fault."
Princess Joan grew up and was the loveliest woman in the land. It was many
long years since any one so fair had been seen, but for all that her mother
mourned over her sorely, and her eyes were red with crying for her
beautiful daughter, who had never yet wept one tear herself.
The neighbouring country was governed by a King and Queen who had only one
son, named Michael, whom everybody loved dearly. He was a handsome young
man, and as good as he was handsome. He was as gracious to the poorest
beggar as to the greatest lord, and all the poor folk came to him to tell
him their troubles, if they thought they were badly treated; and because
he was brave and handsome also, the court people loved him as well as the
peasants.
In this country there stood on a high hill a round tower, and at the top of
it lived an old wizard. No man knew his age, for he had dwelt there for
hundreds of years, and no one knew how the tower had been built, for it was
made of one huge stone, and there were no joins in it at all.
The King and Queen were afraid of the old magician, and never went near
him; indeed, no one in all the country had ever ventured to climb the tower
and see the old man at his work except Prince Michael, who knew the old
sorcerer well and did not fear him at all, but went up and down the tower
as he chose.
One bright moonlight night it chanced that the Prince found himself alone
on the hill-side, and seeing a bright light shining from the top of the
tower he resolved to enter and pay the old man a visit. So he went to a
little door, and pushing it open stepped into a narrow, dark, winding
staircase, that went straight up the centre to the room at the top, in
which the wizard dwelt. The staircase was pitch dark, for there were no
windows. Moreover, it was so narrow that only one person could walk in it
at a time, but Prince Michael knew the way quite well, and climbed and
climbed till he saw a chink of light, and at last trod through a little
doorway into the room in which the sorcerer sat.
This room was as light as day, for it was lit by a lamp which the old man
himself had made, and in which no oil or wick was burning, but every day it
was filled with sunbeams, and held them at night after the sun had set.
So the whole room was brilliant, and in the middle sat the wizard, who was
a wonderful old man to look on, for he was all white. His beard was white
as snow, and from afar you could not tell which was beard and which gown,
but when you came near you saw that the beard flowed nearly to his feet,
and his skin was as white as either beard or gown. And his eyes were quite
colourless, but as bright as two candles.
When Michael entered he sat looking at an enormous book full of coloured
pictures of little men and women about three inches high each. They were
not like other pictures, for they walked and moved over the page as though
they were alive.
"It is I, father. What book are you looking at?" said Michael, stepping up
to the old man's side.
"In this book," said the wizard, "I keep the portraits of all the men and
women in the world, and they are living portraits too, for they move, and
look just like the originals."
"That must be very amusing," cried Michael. "Pray show me the portraits of
all the Kings, and Queens, and Princesses. This will be delightful," and he
knelt down by the old man and looked over his shoulder.
The sorcerer muttered to himself and turned over the pages, and then
stopped at one on which Michael saw little figures of Kings and Queens of
all sorts, some of which he knew, and some of which he had never seen
before.
[Illustration: "'Tis their daughter, Princess Joan," said the wizard with a
sigh. "But do not look at her, my son, for she will bring nothing but
trouble to all who know her."--P. 87.]
"There," he cried, "is old King Réné who came to our court last year, and
that is Queen Constance, and that is their nephew Prince Guilbert, who will
be king when they are dead, and here are our neighbours the King and Queen
of the next country, and oh, my father, who is this lovely Princess next to
them?"
"'Tis their daughter Princess Joan," said the wizard with a sigh. "But do
not look at her, my son, for she will bring nothing but trouble to all who
know her."
"I don't care if she bring trouble or happiness," cried the Prince. "But
for certain she is the most beautiful creature in the world," and he seized
the book and looked long at the tiny figure of the Princess. Truly it was
very beautiful. It was dressed in white, with a golden girdle round the
waist, and a wreath of golden daisies on its head, and as Michael looked,
it turned upon the pages, and smiled at him till he smiled back again, and
could not move his eyes from it.
When the wizard saw this, he took the book from the young man's hands, and
hid it away, saying,
"Think no more of Princess Joan, however beautiful she be, or one day you
will rue it dearly."
Prince Michael made no answer, but he thought all the more of the little
picture of the Princess. After he had left the tower, and returned to the
palace, he could not forget her, but dreamt of her all night, and thought
of her all day.
Next morning he went to the King and said, "My father, I am come to beg
that you will send to the King of the next country and ask if I may have
his daughter, Princess Joan, for my wife, for I have seen her portrait, and
there is no one in the world whom I love so well."
When the King heard this he was delighted.
"Our good neighbours," he said, "are rich and powerful, and it will be a
capital thing for our son to marry their daughter." So he at once sent off
an ambassador to beg for the hand of Princess Joan for Prince Michael.
Joan's father and mother were delighted with the offer, and at once
resolved to accept it; but the Queen's heart sank within her, for she
thought, "Our poor Joan is not like any other maid who ever lived before,
and perhaps when Prince Michael sees her and finds this out, he will refuse
to wed her after all;" but she said nothing of her fears, and the
ambassador returned to the court, loaded with presents, and bearing a
message of acceptance.
Till his return Prince Michael knew no peace or rest, but wandered about
among the hills by himself, thinking of Joan, and still, in his heart, he
wondered what the magician had meant when he said that if he thought much
of Princess Joan, one day he would rue it.
At last he said to himself, "I will disguise myself as a poor man, and go
and see my Princess for myself before the ambassador returns, then shall I
know what the wizard means."
So he dressed himself as a peasant, and started alone without telling any
one whither he went, and he travelled day and night till he came to the
country where Joan dwelt and to her father's palace. Then he walked near
the palace gardens, and no one noticed him, and he saw a group of lovely
ladies, who sat together on the grass.
His heart beat high as he looked at them, for in their midst, most
beautiful of all, sat the Princess Joan. Her yellow hair fell to her waist,
her face was like a blush rose, and her eyes were blue as forget-me-nots,
but when she lifted them, he saw that they were clear and hard as glass,
and her voice when she spoke was like a bright cold bell.
There ran up to her a little serving-maid, crying bitterly, and said,
"I beg of you, Princess, to let me return to my own home for a time, for my
father, the huntsman, has broken his leg and is very ill."
"Why should you cry for that?" said the Princess. "'Tis your father and not
you that is hurt; but you may go, for when you cry and your eyes look red
you are ugly, and I don't like to see you, so be sure that when you return
you are pretty and bright as ever."
When her ladies heard her they looked angry, but no one spoke, and the
little maid went crying away.
Up there came a groom from the palace and said,
"Your Royal Highness, the horse that you rode yesterday is dead, and we
think it is because you would ride so far when it was already tired, as we
told you."
"Dead is it?" cried the Princess. "Then see quickly and get me another,
that I may ride again to-morrow, and be sure this time that it is a good
strong horse, or it may give way beneath me and so my ride be shortened."
The groom went away muttering, and the Princess's ladies looked even graver
than before, but the Princess's own face was bright as a summer sky, and
she talked on without heeding their sad looks.
Prince Michael turned away with a heavy heart.
"The magician spoke truly," he said to himself, "and there will be nothing
but sorrow for all those who love my poor Princess Joan."
Yet he could not bear to leave her and return at once to his own home, and
still he remained near the palace, and for some days watched her
unnoticed, when she walked and rode, and listened to all she said, and each
day he grieved more and more, for she never said one kind loving word to
any one; yet each day when he saw how beautiful she was he loved her more
and more.
When he again returned to his own home he found great rejoicings
everywhere, for the ambassador had returned with a message from Joan's
father promising she should marry the Prince, and everywhere preparations
were being made for the entry of the Princess to her new home.
"And now, my son," said the King, "all is arranged for you to journey in
state to her father's court and bring back your bride, so now I hope that
you are happy and wish for nothing more."
On hearing this Prince Michael's face was sad and grave, and his father and
mother wondered what ailed him. But he said to himself, "I will never marry
my Joan till she loves me as I do her, and how can she ever do that when
she loves no one, not even her own father and mother?"
At the court of Joan's father grand preparations had been made, and all was
in excitement when Prince Michael arrived with servants, and horses, and
presents for the bride.
The King and Queen sat in state to receive him, and beside them was Joan,
and she looked so beautiful, in a dress as blue as her eyes, that every one
said, "How glad he will be when he sees how lovely she is."
There was a blowing of trumpets and ringing of bells when Prince Michael,
followed by his attendants, entered, and the King and Queen and all the
courtiers rose.
He passed up the hall to the thrones on which they sat, and kneeling on one
knee, kissed their hands, and last he kissed the hand of the Princess, but
he did not lift his eyes from the ground or look in her face, and his own
was so sad that the people whispered to each other, and said, "What is the
matter, and why does he look so unhappy? Surely he ought to be content when
he sees how beautiful she is."
At night when the merrymakings were over the Prince sent a message to the
Queen, begging she would speak with him alone, and when she heard this her
heart sank, and she thought, "He must know that there is something amiss
with Joan, and perhaps he comes to say he will not marry her after all."
So she sent every one away, except the old nurse and bid the Prince to
come.
When he came in and saw her sad looks he said, "You have guessed then,
Queen, why I come to speak to you. Tell me truly what ails Princess Joan,
and why is she unlike any one I ever saw." The Queen cried bitterly, and
said, "I know not; would I did!" but the old nurse said,
"I know and will tell you, Prince. Princess Joan is under a spell. A bad
fairy enchanted her when she was a tiny baby, and till this charm is
broken, she will never be like other people."
"And what is the charm?" asked the Prince.
"Nay, that I don't know," said the nurse. Then she told Michael of the
yellow woman and the whistling the Queen had heard at night; and as he
listened the Prince sighed and said, "There is no charm which cannot be
broken if one does but know how, but this is hard to do, for we do not know
what the spell is, or who is the fairy who cast it. But bid the people
cease their preparations, Queen, and stop the wedding rejoicings, for there
will be no wedding. No, not till I have found the fairy who has wronged my
Joan, and made her set her free. To-morrow I shall start at break of day,
and journey to the farthest ends of the world, to search for what can break
the charm. But I pray, Queen, that Joan may wait for me for seven years,
and if, when they are past, I have not returned, and you have heard nothing
of me, you must think that I am dead and gone, and marry her to whom you
will, for if I be alive, I will return before then. And till seven years
are past remember that Joan is still mine."
On hearing this the Queen wept still more, and begged the Prince either to
remain and marry Joan, or to leave her and return to his home and forget
her; but if he wandered away to lands of goblins and fairies, no one would
know what had become of him, and he would never find the fairy who had
charmed Joan or learn how to break the spell; but Prince Michael only shook
his head, and said, "I have sworn that I will not marry Joan till she loves
me as I do her, neither can I return to my home and forget her, so bid her
be ready at dawn to-morrow to bid me farewell, and tell none that I am
going till I have gone. Also I beg you to send a messenger to my father and
mother to tell them why I do not return, for I will not see them first,
lest they too should try to dissuade me." The Queen said no more, but she
cried very bitterly; but the old nurse smiled and nodded to Michael and
said,
"You do well. You are a noble Prince, and would well deserve our Princess's
love."
Next morning at break of day the Queen awoke the Princess and bade her
rise, for Prince Michael waited to bid her good-bye. The Prince stood at
the door of the palace, and when Princess Joan came out looking lovelier
than ever in the dim morning light, the tears filled his eyes, and he
thought, "Most likely I shall never see her again, and then she will never
know how much I have loved her."
"Good-bye, Joan," he said; "do not quite forget me for seven years, for
perhaps I may yet come back and marry you."
"And why do you go?" said Joan; "I had thought there would be a grand
wedding, and I should have all the gifts that are being prepared for me,
and now I shall have nothing; but good-bye, if go you must."
Michael sighed as he mounted his horse and bade her farewell. When he
looked back at the palace, the Queen and Joan still stood at the door, and
the Queen sobbed; but Princess Joan looked quite happy and contented, and
smiled brightly.
Prince Michael rode and rode, till he came to his own home, and then he
turned at once to the tower in which dwelt the magician. He climbed the
tower and found the old man sitting alone as before, but he had no book
before him, and he looked very grave.
"I know why you are come," he said, as soon as Michael entered the room.
"So you have seen Princess Joan; and do you still wish to marry her?"
"I will marry her, or no one," said Michael. "But not till I have found out
who has bewitched her, and have broken the charm."
"You will have to search far for that," said the wizard; "And it may be
years ere you could set her free. Forget her, my son, and return to your
own home, and do not waste your life in a fruitless quest."
"I will seek to break the charm, even if it take my whole life," said
Michael. "But tell me what it is, and how shall I find out how to break
it."
"A fairy has stolen her heart," said the wizard, "and that is why she loves
no one, and can feel no sorrow; she has no heart with which to love or
pity, and till it is found and restored to her, she will be hard and cold
as stone. The fairy swore she would be revenged on her mother for her
pride, and so she is."
"Then I will go and seek her heart, and bring it back to her," said
Michael. "But where shall I look for it? Tell me at least where has the
fairy hidden it."
"She has taken it to a castle in which are kept all the hearts of men and
women, that fairies steal, or that they themselves throw away; and this
castle is very far from here; moreover, it is guarded by an old gnome, who
is spiteful and cruel, and who pays no heed to those who beg him to let
them enter. Give up the Princess and return to your home, for if you go,
you will only die, or be enchanted like poor Princess Joan."