that whispered and laughed in his ear. Over and over again it seemed to
be saying, “The Red Mole came, and the full Moon came, and the Princess
jumped down into the water!” Then his heart knocked so loud for joy that
he started awake, and saw the Red Mole scuffling away to its burrow in
the ground.
Then he feared that the dream was but a thing devised to cheat his fancy,
and get rid of him by making him go away and search for his Princess in
the land of the Moon, by the way that she had told him. But he thought
to himself, “If the Red Mole wants so much to get me away, it means that
my beloved is somewhere near at hand. Is she in the well?” he began
wondering; and as soon as it was light he went to where lay the well in
its corner under the shadow of the wall. But though he searched long and
diligently, there was no trace of her that he could find.
Yet every time he came near to the well sorrow seemed to take hold of
him, and, mixed with it, a kind of joy, as though indeed the heart of his
beloved beat in this place. Near to the well stood a tall flower with
bowed head. It seemed to him the only one in the whole garden that had
any share in his sorrow: he wondered if the flower had grown up to mark
the sad place of her burial.
“O, my beloved Berenice, art thou near me now?” he murmured,
heart-broken, one day as he passed by: then it seemed to him that all
at once the flower stirred. He turned to look at it; it was like a
sunflower, but white even to its centre, and its head kept drooping as if
for pure grief. “Berenice, Berenice!” he wept, passing it.
At dusk he returned again; and now the flower’s head was lifted up, and
shone with a strange lustre. The Prince, as he went by on his way to the
well, saw the flower turn its head, bending its face ever towards where
he was. Then grief and joy stirred in his heart. “The flower knows where
she is!” he said.
So he bent, whispering, “Where, then, is Berenice?” and the flower lifted
its head, and hung quite still, looking at him.
Then the Prince whispered again, “The Red Mole came, and the full Moon
came, and the Princess jumped down into the water?”
But the flower swayed its head from side to side, and the Prince found
that it had answered “No.”
Then he had it in his mind to ask of it further things; but, as he was
about to speak, he beheld its face all brimming over with tears, that
suddenly broke and fell down in a shower over its leaves.
At that his heart leaped, and his voice choked as he cried, “Art _thou_
my beloved, my Berenice?” And all at once the flower swayed down, and
leaned, and fell weeping against his breast.
So at last he knew! And joy and grief struggled together in him for
mastery.
All that night he knelt with the flower’s head upon his heart, stroking
its soft leaves, and letting it rest between his hands; till, towards
dawn, it seemed to him that peace was upon it and sleep.
All through the day it hung faint upon its stem; but when evening came it
lifted its head and shone in moon-like beauty; and so deep for it was the
Prince’s love and compassion that he could hardly bear to be absent from
its side one moment of the day or night.
And, when he was very weary, he lay down under its shadow to sleep; and
the Moon-flower bent down and rested its head upon his face.
All night long in dreams Berenice came back to him. He seemed to hear how
the Red Mole had come, and changed her to a rooted shape, lest the full
Moon in the water should carry her away from him back into her own land.
Yet it was only a dream, and the Prince could learn nothing there of the
way by which he might set her free.
A month went by, and he said to his Flower, “To-night is the night of
the full Moon: now, if I drew you from the ground, and carried you down,
and called for the Moon’s face to open to us, would you not be free from
the enchantment, when you were come again to your own people?” But
the Moon-flower shook its head, as if to bid him still wait and watch
patiently.
Now, as the Prince came and went day by day, he began to notice that
the Moon-flower had its roots in a small green mound, no bigger than a
mole-hill; and he thought to himself, “surely that mound was not there at
first: the Red Mole must be down below at work!” So he watched it from
day to day; and at last he knew for certain that, as time went on, the
mound grew larger.
Month by month the mound upon which the Moon-flower had root increased in
size; yet the Flower thrived, and its beauty shone brighter as each full
Moon approached, so that at last the Prince’s fear lest the Red Mole were
working mischief against its life, passed away.
Once, on the night of a full Moon, as the Prince lay with his head upon
Earth, and the Moon-flower bowed over his face, he heard under the mound
a peal of silvery laughter; and at the sound of it the Moon-flower
started, and stood erect, and a stir of delight seemed to take hold of
its leaves. Again the laughter came, and the soft earth moved at the
sound of it.
The Prince started up, and ran and fetched a spade, and struck it down
under the loose soil of the mound. When he lifted up the earth, out
sprang a tiny child like a lobe of quicksilver, laughing merrily with
its first leap into the light. But even then its laughter changed into a
cry; for out after it darted the Red Mole, with fury in its whiskers, and
wrath flashing out of its eyes.
The quicksilver child sprang away, and went shrilling over the grass
toward the margin of the pool. There lay the full Moon’s image upon the
clear stillness of the water; and the child leapt down the bank, and
laughed as it sprang safely away. Then there followed a tiny splash; and
the Prince, amid the rings upon the water’s surface, saw, like a door of
pearl, the Moon’s face open and close again. And the Red Mole went down
into the earth gnashing its teeth for rage.
The Prince ran back to the Moon-flower, and found it bent forwards
and trembling with fear. Then he drew its head towards his heart, and
whispered “The Red Mole came, and the full Moon came, and the silver
child jumped down into the water!” And at that the Flower lifted its
head and began clapping its leaves for joy.
A month went by, and the green mound had disappeared from beneath the
Moon-flower’s roots; and still every night the Prince lay down under the
shadow of its leaves; and the Flower bent over him, and laid its head
against his face.
As he lay so, one night, and watched the full Moon travelling high
overhead, he saw a shadow begin to cross over it; and he knew that it was
the eclipse, which is the shadow of the Earth passing over the face of
the Moon; then he rose softly, leaving the Moon-flower asleep, and went
and stood by the brink of the pool.
Up in the Moon the silver child felt the shadow of the Earth fall upon
the face of the Moon; and he came and touched the Earth’s shadow with
his lips, crying, “Open, open to me, for I am an Earth-child!” Then the
Earth’s shadow that was upon the Moon opened, and the silver child sprang
through.
The Prince, watching the veiled image of the Moon’s face in the water,
saw the Earth’s shadow open like a door, so that for an instant the
brightness of the Moon shone through, and out sprang the quicksilver
child, up to the surface of the pool.
He leapt laughing up the bank, and went running over the grass to where
the Moon-flower was standing. He reached up his arms, and caught the
Flower by the head:
“O mother, mother, mother!” he cried as he kissed it.
And at the touch of his lips the Moon-flower opened and changed, growing
wondrously tall and fair; and the flower turned into a face, and the
leaves disappeared, till it was the beautiful Princess Berenice herself,
who stooped down and took the quicksilver child up into her arms.
She cried, fondling him, “Did they give you your name?”
And the child laughed. “They call me Gammelyn,” he said.
The Prince caught them both together in his arms. “Come, come!” he
shouted and laughed, “for yonder is the full Moon waiting for us!” And,
lifting them up, he ran with them to the borders of the pool.
And the Red Mole came, and the full Moon came; and the Prince, and the
Princess, and the silver child jumped down into the water.
Then the Prince laid his lips against the reflection of the Earth’s
shadow, crying, “Open, open to me, for I am a child of the Earth!” And
the shadow opened like a door to let them pass through. Then they pressed
their lips against the reflection of the Moon’s face crying, “Open, open
to us, for we are Moon-children!” And the Moon opened her face like a
door of pearl, so that they sprang through together, and were safe.
And when the Moon drew its reflection out of the pool, they found
themselves in the land of the Moon, in the silver chamber with the round
window, in the palace of Princess Berenice’s father.
Looking out through the window, down at the end of a long moonbeam they
saw the Red Mole gnashing his whiskers for rage. Then the Prince took off
his shoes, and threw them with all his might down the moonbeam at the
Mole.
As the shoes fell, they went faster, and faster, and faster, till they
came to earth; and they struck the Mole so hard upon the head that he
died.
Now as for Gammelyn and the shoes we may hear of them again elsewhere;
but as for the Prince and his beautiful Princess Berenice, the happiness
in which they lived for the rest of their days is too great even to be
told of.
HAPPY RETURNS
_TO_
JEANNIE
[Illustration]
HAPPY RETURNS
By the side of a great river, whose stream formed the boundary to two
countries, lived an old ferryman and his wife. All the day, while she
minded the house, he sat in his boat by the ferry, waiting to carry
travellers across; or, when no travellers came, and he had his boat free,
he would cast drag-nets along the bed of the river for fish. But for the
food which he was able thus to procure at times, he and his wife might
well have starved, for travellers were often few and far between, and
often they grudged him the few pence he asked for ferrying them; and now
he had grown so old and feeble that when the river was in flood he could
scarcely ferry the boat across; and continually he feared lest a younger
and stronger man should come and take his place, and the bread from his
mouth.
But he had trust in Providence. “Will not God,” he said, “who has
given us no happiness in this life, save in each other’s help and
companionship, allow us to end our days in peace?”
And his wife answered, “Yes, surely, if we trust Him enough He will.”
One morning, it being the first day of the year, the ferryman going down
to his boat, found that during the night it had been loosed from its
moorings and taken across the river, where it now lay fastened to the
further bank.
“Wife,” said he, “I can remember this same thing happening a year ago,
and the year before also. Who is this traveller who comes once a year,
like a thief in the night, and crosses without asking me to ferry him
over?”
“Perhaps it is the good folk,” said his wife. “Go over and see if they
have left no coin behind them in the boat.”
The old man got on to a log and poled himself across, and found, down in
the keel of the boat, the mark of a man’s bare foot driven deep into the
wood; but there was no coin or other trace to show who it might be.
Time went on; the old ferryman was all bowed down with age, and his body
was racked with pains. So slow was he now in making the passage of the
stream, that all travellers who knew those parts took a road higher up
the bank, where a stronger ferryman plied.
Winter came; and hunger and want pressed hard at the old man’s door. One
day while he drew his net along the stream, he felt the shock of a great
fish striking against the meshes down below, and presently, as the net
came in, he saw a shape like living silver, leaping and darting to and
fro to find some way of escape. Up to the bank he landed it, a great
gasping fish.
When he was about to kill it, he saw, to his astonishment, tears running
out of its eyes, that gazed at him and seemed to reproach him for his
cruelty. As he drew back, the Fish said: “Why should you kill me, who
wish to live?”
The old man, altogether bewildered at hearing himself thus addressed,
answered: “Since I and my wife are hungry, and God gave you to be eaten,
I have good reason for killing you.”
“I could give you something worth far more than a meal,” said the Fish,
“if you would spare my life.”
“We are old,” said the ferryman, “and want only to end our days in peace.
To-day we are hungry; what can be more good for us than a meal which will
give us strength for the morrow, which is the new year?”
The Fish said: “To-night some one will come and unfasten your boat, and
ferry himself over, and you know nothing of it till the morning, when you
see the craft moored out yonder by the further bank.”
The old man remembered how the thing had happened in previous years,
directly the Fish spoke. “Ah, you know that then! How is it?” he asked.
“When you go back to your hut at night to sleep, I am here in the water,”
said the Fish. “I see what goes on.”
“What goes on, then?” asked the old man, very curious to know who the
strange traveller might be.
“Ah,” said the Fish, “if you could only catch him in your boat, he could
give you something you might wish for! I tell you this: do you and your
wife keep watch in the boat all night, and when he comes, and you have
ferried him into mid-stream, where he cannot escape, then throw your net
over him and hold him till he pays you for all your ferryings.”
“How shall he pay me? All my ferryings of a lifetime!”
“Make him take you to the land of Returning Time. There, at least, you
can end your days in peace.”
The old man said: “You have told me a strange thing; and since I mean to
act on it, I suppose I must let you go. If you have deceived me, I trust
you may yet die a cruel death.”
The Fish answered: “Do as I tell you, and you shall die a happy one.”
And, saying this, he slipped down into the water and disappeared.
The ferryman went back to his wife supperless, and said to her: “Wife,
bring a net, and come down into the boat!” And he told her the story of
the Fish and of the yearly traveller.
They sat long together under the dark bank, looking out over the quiet
and cold moonlit waters, till the midnight hour. The air was chill, and
to keep themselves warm they covered themselves over with the net and lay
down in the bottom of the boat. It was the very hour when the old year
dies and the new year is born.
Before they well knew that they had been asleep, they started to feel the
rocking of the boat, and found themselves out upon the broad waters of
the river. And there in the fore-part of the boat, clear and sparkling in
the moonlight, stood a naked man of shining silver. He was bending upon
the pole of the boat, and his long hair fell over it right down into the
water.
The old couple rose up quietly, and unwinding themselves from the net,
threw it over the Silver Man, over his head and hands and feet, and
dragged him down into the bottom of the boat.
The old man caught the ferry pole, and heaved the boat still into the
middle of the stream. As he did so a gentle shock came to the heart of
each; feebly it fluttered and sank low. “Oh, wife!” sighed the old man,
and reached out his hand for hers.
The Silver Man lay still in the folds of the net, and looked at them with
a wise and quiet gaze. “What would you have of me?” he said, and his
voice was far off and low.
They said, “Bring us into the land of Returning Time.”
The Silver Man said: “Only once can you go there, and once return.”
They both answered “We wish once to go there, and once return.”
So he promised them that they should have the whole of their request; and
they unloosed him from the net, and landed all together on the further
bank.
Up the hill they went, following the track of the Silver Man. Presently
they reached its crest; and there before them lay all the howling winter
of the world.
The Silver Man turned his face and looked back; and looking back it
became all young, and ruddy, and bright. The ferryman and his wife gazed
at him, both speechless at the wonderful change. He took their hands,
making them turn the way by which they had come; below their feet was
a deep black gulf, and beyond and away lay nothing but a dark starless
hollow of air.
“Now,” said their guide, “you have but to step forward one step, and you
shall be in the land of Returning Time.”
They loosed hold of his hands, joined clasp, husband with wife, and at
one step upon what seemed gulf beneath their feet, found themselves in
a green and flowery land. There were perfumed valleys and grassy hills,
whose crops stretched down before the breeze; thick fleecy clouds crossed
their tops, and overhead, amid a blue air rang the shrill trilling
of birds. Behind lay, fading mistily as a dream, the bare world they
had left; and fast on his forward road, growing small to them from a
distance, went the Silver Man, a shining point on the horizon.
The ferryman and his wife looked, and saw youth in each other’s faces
beginning to peep out through the furrows of age; each step they took
made them grow younger and stronger; years fell from them like worn-out
rags as they went down into the valleys of the land of Returning Time.
How fast Time returned! Each step made the change of a day, and every
mile brought them five years back toward youth. When they came down to
the streams that ran in the bed of each valley, the ferryman and his
wife felt their prime return to them. He saw the gold come back into her
locks, and she the brown into his. Their lips became open to laughter and
song. “Oh, how good,” they cried, “to have lived all our lives poor, to
come at last to this!”
They drank water out of the streams, and tasted the fruit from the trees
that grew over them; till presently, being tired for mere joy, they lay
down in the grass to rest. They slept hand within hand and cheek against
cheek, and, when they woke, found themselves quite young again, just at
the age when they were first married in the years gone by.
The ferryman started up and felt the desire of life strong in his blood.
“Come!” he said to his wife, “or we shall become too young with lingering
here. Now we have regained our youth, let us go back into the world once
more!”
His wife hung upon his hand, “Are we not happy enough,” she asked, “as it
is? Why should we return?”
“But,” he cried, “we shall grow too young; now we have youth and life at
its best let us return! Time goes too fast with us; we are in danger of
it carrying us away.”
She said no further word, but followed up toward the way by which they
had entered. And yet, in spite of her wish to remain, as she went her
young blood frisked. Presently coming to the top of a hill, they set off
running and racing; at the bottom they looked at each other, and saw
themselves boy and girl once more.
“We have stayed here too long!” said the ferryman, and pressed on.
“Oh, the birds,” sighed she, “and the flowers, and the grassy hills to
run on, we are leaving behind!” But still the boy had the wish for a
man’s life again, and urged her on; and still with every step they grew
younger and younger. At length, two small children, they came to the
border of that enchanted land, and saw beyond the world bleak and wintry
and without leaf. Only a further step was wanted to bring them face to
face once more with the hard battle of life.
Tears rose in the child-wife’s eyes: “If we go,” she said, “we can never
return!” Her husband looked long at her wistful face; he, too, was more
of a child now, and was forgetting his wish to be a man again.
He took hold of her hand and turned round with her, and together they
faced once more the flowery orchards, and the happy watered valleys.
Away down there light streams tinkled, and birds called. Downwards they
went, slowly at first, then with dancing feet, as with shoutings and
laughter they ran.
Down into the level fields they ran; their running was turned to a
toddling; their toddling to a tumbling; their tumbling to a slow crawl
upon hands and feet among the high grass and flowers; till at last they
were lying side by side, curled up into a cuddly ball, chuckling and
dimpling and crowing to the insects and birds that passed over them.
Then they heard the sweet laughter of Father Time; and over the hill he
came, young, ruddy, and shining, and gathered them up sound asleep on the
old boat by the ferry.
Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.
London & Edinburgh