THE STORY OF A KING'S DAUGHTER
(_Continued_).
'I have been enchanted, and thou only canst set me free.'
GRIMM'S _Raven_.
'It seemed so at least, but in reality it was very different. Aureole
had received a shock which she felt deeply, and which she could not
forget. It grieved her, too, to see her father's distress and
disappointment, and sometimes she asked herself if perhaps she had done
wrong in deciding so hastily. But the sight of the little dog Fido,
which had recovered, though with the loss of one eye, always removed
these misgivings. "A man who could be so cruel to a harmless little
creature, would have quickly broken my heart," she said to herself and
sometimes to her father. And as time went on, and news came that Prince
Halbert was becoming more and more feared and disliked in his own home
from the increasing violence of his temper, the old King learnt to be
thankful that his dear Aureole was not to be at the mercy of such a man.
'"But what will become of you, my darling, when I am gone?" he would
say.
'"Fear not for me," Aureole assured him. "I have no fear for myself,
father, dear. Why, I could live safely in the woods with my dear
animals. If I had a little hut, and Fido to guard me, and Lello my fawn,
and the little rabbit, and all my pretty birds, I should be quite
happy!"
'For the forester to whom Fido belonged had begged Aureole to keep him,
as even before its hurt the dog had learnt to love her and spring out to
greet her, and wag his tail with pleasure when she passed his master's
cottage, which lay on the way to her glade. But though Aureole was not
afraid for herself, she was often very miserable when she thought of her
country-people, above all the poor and defenceless ones, in the power of
such a king as Halbert gave signs of being, after the long and gentle
rule of her father. Yet there was nothing to be done, so she kept
silence, fearing to cloud with more sorrow and anxiety the last days of
the old King.
'They were indeed his last days, for within a year of Halbert's
unfortunate visit her father died, and the fair Aureole was left
desolate.
'Her grief was great, even though the King had been very old, and she
had long known he could not be spared to her for many more years. But
she had not much time to indulge in it, for already, before her father
was laid in his grave, her sorrow was disturbed by the strange and
unexpected events which came to pass.
'These began by a curious dream which came to Aureole the very night of
her father's death.
'She dreamt that she was standing in her bower with her pets about her
as usual. She felt bright and happy, and had altogether forgotten about
her father's death. Suddenly a movement of terror made itself felt among
her animals--the birds fluttered closer to her, the little rabbit crept
beneath her skirt, the fawn and Fido looked up at her with startled
eyes, and almost before she had time to look round their terror was
explained. A frightful sound was heard approaching them, the terrible
growl of a bear, and in another moment the monster was within a few
yards. Even then, in her dream, Aureole's first thought was for her
pets. She threw her arms round all that she could embrace, and stood
there calmly, watching the creature with a faint hope that if she
showed no terror he might pass them by. But he came nearer and nearer,
till she almost felt his hot breath on her face, when suddenly, to her
amazement, the monster was no longer there, but in his place the Prince
Halbert, standing beside her and looking at her with an expression of
the profoundest misery.
'"I have brought it on myself," he said. "I deserve it; but pity me, oh,
Aureole! Sweet Aureole, pity and forgive me!" Then a cry of
irrepressible grief burst from his lips, and at this moment Aureole
awoke, to find her eyes wet with tears, her heart throbbing fast with
fear and distress.
'"What can have made me dream of Halbert?" she said to herself. "It must
have been seeing the messengers start yesterday," and then all came back
to her memory, which at the first moment of waking had been confused,
and she remembered her father's death and her own loneliness, and the
scarcely-dried tears rushed afresh to her eyes.
'"Has any news come from Prince Halbert?" she inquired of her attendants
when they came at her summons. And when they told her "none," she felt a
strange sensation of uneasiness. For the messengers had been despatched
at once on the death of the old King, which had been sudden at the last,
to summon his successor, and there had been time already for their
return.
'And as the day went on and nothing was heard of them, every one began
to think there must be something wrong, till late at night these fears
were confirmed by the return of the messengers with anxious faces.
'"Has the Prince arrived?" was their first question, and when they were
told that nothing had been seen of him, they explained the reason of
their inquiry.
'Halbert, already informed of the illness of the old King, had quickly
prepared to set out with his own attendants and those who had come to
summon him. They had ridden through the night, and had nothing untoward
occurred, they would have ended their journey by daybreak. But the
Prince had lost his temper with his horse, a nervous and restless
animal, unfit for so irritable a person to manage.
'"We became uneasy," said the messengers, "on seeing the Prince lashing
and spurring furiously the poor animal, who, his sides streaming with
blood, no longer understood what was required of him, and at last,
driven mad with pain and terror, dashed off at a frantic pace which it
was hopeless to overtake. We followed him as best we could, guided for
some distance by the branches broken as they passed and the ploughed-up
ground, which, thanks to a brilliant moonlight, we were able to
distinguish. But at last, where the trees began to grow more
thickly----" and here the speaker, who was giving this report to Aureole
herself, hesitated--"at last these traces entirely disappeared. We
sought on in every direction; when the moon went in we waited for the
daylight, and resumed our search. But all to no purpose, and at last we
resolved to ride on hither, hoping that the Prince might possibly have
found his way before us."
'"But this is terrible!" cried Aureole, forgetting all her indignation
against Halbert in the thought of his lying perhaps crushed and helpless
in some bypath of the forest which his followers had missed. "We must at
once send out fresh horsemen in every direction to scour the country."
'The captain who had had command of the little troop bowed, but said
nothing, and seemed without much hope that any fresh efforts would
succeed. Aureole was struck with his manner.
'"You are concealing something from me," she said. "Why do you appear so
hopeless? Even at the worst, even supposing the Prince is killed, he
must be found."
'"We searched too thoroughly," replied the officer. "Wherever it was
_possible_ to get, we left not a square yard unvisited."
'"Wherever it was _possible_," repeated Aureole; "what do you mean? You
do not think----" and she too hesitated, and her pale face grew paler.
'The captain glanced at her.
'"I see that you have divined our fears, Princess," he said in a low
voice. "Yes, we feel almost without a doubt that the unfortunate Prince
has been carried into the enchanted forest, from whence, as you well
know, none have ever been known to return. It is well that his parents
have not lived to see this day, for, though he brought it on himself, it
is impossible not to feel pity for such a fate."
'Aureole seemed scarcely able to reply. But she gave orders,
notwithstanding all she had heard, to send out fresh horsemen to search
again in every direction.
'"My poor father," she said to herself; "I am glad he was spared this
new sorrow about Halbert." And as the remembrance of her strange dream
returned to her, "Poor Halbert," she added, "what may he not be
suffering?" and she shuddered at the thought.
'For the enchanted forest was the terror of all that country. In reality
nothing, or almost nothing, was known of it, and therefore the awe and
horror about it were the greater. It lay in a lonely stretch of ground
between two ranges of hills, and no one ever passed through it, for
there was no pathway or entrance of any kind to be seen. But for longer
than any one now living could remember, it had been spoken of as a place
to be dreaded and avoided, and travellers in passing by used to tell how
they had heard shrieks and screams and groans from among its dark
shades. It was said that a magician lived in a castle in the very centre
of the forest, and that he used all sorts of tricks to get people into
his power, whence they could never again escape. For though several were
known to have been tempted to enter the forest, none of them were ever
heard of or seen again. And it was the common saying of the
neighbourhood, that it would be far worse to lose a child by straying
into the forest than by dying. No one had ever seen the magician, no one
even was sure that he existed, but when any misfortune came over the
neighbourhood, such as a bad harvest or unusual sickness, people were
sure to say that the wizard of the forest was at the bottom of it. And
Aureole, like every one else, had a great and mysterious terror of the
place and its master.
'"Poor Halbert!" she repeated to herself many times that day. "Would I
could do anything for him!"
'The bands of horsemen she had sent out returned one after the other
with the same tidings,--nothing had been seen or heard of the Prince.
But late in the day a woodman brought to the castle a fragment of cloth
which was recognised as having been torn from the mantle of the Prince,
and which he had found caught on the branch of a tree. When asked where,
he hesitated, which of itself was answer enough.
'"Close to the borders of the enchanted forest," he said at last,
lowering his voice. But that was all he had to tell. And from this
moment all lost hope. There was nothing more to be done.
'"The Prince is as lost to us as is our good old King," were the words
of every one on the day of the funeral of Aureole's father. "Far better
for him were he too sleeping peacefully among his fathers than to be
where he is."
'It seemed as if it would have certainly been better for his people had
it been so. It was impossible to receive the successor of Halbert as
king till a certain time had elapsed, which would be considered as equal
to proof of his death. And the next heir to the crown being but an
infant living in a distant country, the delay gave opportunity for
several rival claimants to begin to make difficulties, and not many
months after the death of the old King the once happy and peaceful
country was threatened with war and invasion on various sides. Then the
heads of the nation consulted together, and decided on a bold step. They
came to Aureole offering her the crown, declaring that they preferred to
overthrow the laws of the country, though they had existed for many
centuries, and to make her, at the point of the sword if necessary,
their queen, rather than accept as sovereign any of those who had no
right to it, or an infant who would but be a name and no reality.
'Aureole was startled and bewildered, but firm in her refusal.
'"A king's daughter am I, but no queen. I feel no fitness for the task
of ruling," she replied, "and I could never rest satisfied that I was
where I had a right to be."
'But when the deputies entreated her to consider the matter, and when
she thought of the misery in store for the people unless something were
quickly done, she agreed to think it over till the next day.
'The next day came, Aureole was ready, awaiting the deputies. Their
hopes rose high as they saw her, for there was an expression on her face
that had not been there the day before. She stood before them in her
long mourning robe, but she had encircled her waist with a golden belt,
and golden ornaments shone on her neck and arms.
'"It is a good sign," the envoys whispered, as they remarked also the
bright and hopeful light in her eyes, and they stood breathless, waiting
for her reply. It was not what they had expected.
'"I cannot as yet consent to what you wish," said Aureole; "but be
patient. I set off to-day on a journey from which I hope to return with
good news. Till then I entreat you to do your best to keep all peaceful
and quiet. And I promise you that if I fail in what I am undertaking, I
will return to be your queen."
'This was all she would say. She was forbidden, she declared, to say
more. And so resolute and decided did she appear, that the envoys,
though not without murmuring, were obliged to consent to await her
return, and withdrew with anxious and uneasy looks.
'And Aureole immediately began to get ready for the mysterious journey
of which she had spoken. Her preparations were strange. She took off,
for the first time since her father's death, her black dress, and clad
herself entirely in white. Then she kissed her old nurse and bade her
farewell, at the same time telling her to keep up her courage and have
no fear, to which the old dame could not reply without tears.
'"I do not urge you to tell me the whole, Princess," she said, "as it
was forbidden you to do so. But if I might but go with you." Aureole
shook her head.
'"No, dear nurse," she replied. "The voice in my dream said, 'Alone,
save for thy dumb friends.' That is all I can tell you," and kissing
again the poor nurse, Aureole set off, none knew whither, and she took
care that none should follow her. Some of her attendants saw her going
in the direction of her bower, and remarked her white dress. But they
were so used to her going alone to see her pets that they thought no
more of it. For no one knew the summons Aureole had received. The night
before, after tossing about unable to sleep, so troubled was she by the
request that had been made to her, she at last fell into a slumber, and
again there came to her a strange dream. She thought she saw her cousin;
he seemed pale and worn with distress and suffering.
'"Aureole," he said, "you alone can rescue me. Have you courage? I ask
it not only for myself, but for our people."
'And when in her sleep she would have spoken, no words came, only she
felt herself stretching out her arms to Halbert as if to reach and save
him.
'"Come, then," said his voice; "but come alone, save for thy dumb
friends. Tell no one, but fear not." But even as he said the words he
seemed to disappear, and again the dreadful, the panting roar she had
heard in her former dream reached Aureole's ears, in another moment the
terrible shape of the monster appeared, and shivering with horror she
awoke. Yet she determined to respond to Halbert's appeal. She told no
one except her old nurse, to whom she merely said that she had been
summoned in a dream to go away, but that no harm would befall her. She
clad herself in white, as a better omen of success, and when she reached
her bower, all her creatures welcomed her joyfully. So, with Fido, Lello
the fawn, and the little rabbit gambolling about her feet, the
wood-pigeons on her shoulders, and all the strange company of birds
fluttering about her, Aureole set off on her journey, she knew not
whither.
'But her pets knew. Whenever she felt at a loss Fido would give a little
tug to her dress and then run on barking in front, or Lello would look
up in her face with his pleading eyes and then turn his head in a
certain direction, while the birds would sometimes disappear for a few
moments and then, with a great chirping and fluttering, would be seen
again a little way overhead, as if to assure her they had been to look
if she was taking the right way. So that when night began to fall,
Aureole, very tired, but not discouraged, found herself far from home in
a part of the forest she had never seen before, though with trembling
she said to herself that for all she knew she might already be in the
enchanter's country.
'"But what if it be so?" she reflected. "I must not be faint-hearted
before my task is begun."
'She was wondering how she should spend the night when a sharp bark from
Fido made her look round. She followed to where it came from, and found
the little dog at the door of a small hut cleverly concealed among the
trees. Followed by her pets Aureole entered it, when immediately, as if
pulled by an invisible hand, the door shut to. But she forgot to be
frightened in her surprise at what she saw. The hut was beautifully made
of the branches of trees woven together, and completely lined with moss.
A small fire burned cheerfully in one corner, for the nights were still
chilly; a little table was spread with a snow-white cloth, on which were
laid out fruits and cakes and a jug of fresh milk; and a couch of the
softest moss covered with a rug made of fur was evidently arranged for
Aureole's bed. And at the other side of the hut sweet hay was strewn for
the animals, and a sort of trellis work of branches was ready in one
corner for the birds to roost on.
'"How pleasant it is!" said Aureole, as she knelt down to warm herself
before the fire. "If this is the enchanted forest I don't think it is at
all a dreadful place, and the wizard must be very kind and hospitable."
'And when she had had some supper and had seen that her pets had all
they wanted, she lay down on the mossy couch feeling refreshed and
hopeful, and soon fell fast asleep. She had slept for some hours when
she suddenly awoke, though what had awakened her she could not tell. But
glancing round the hut, by the flickering light of the fire, which was
not yet quite out, she saw that all her pets were awake, and when she
gently called "Fido, Fido," the little dog, followed by the fawn and the
rabbit, crept across the hut to her, and when she touched them she felt
that they were all shaking and trembling, while the birds seemed to be
trying to hide themselves all huddled together in a corner. And almost
before Aureole had time to ask herself what it could be, their fear was
explained, for through the darkness outside came the sound she had twice
heard in her dreams--the terrible panting roar of the monster! It came
nearer and nearer. Aureole felt there was nothing to do. She threw her
arms round the poor little trembling creatures determined to protect
them to the last. Suddenly there came a great bang at the door, as if
some heavy creature had thrown itself against it, and Aureole trembled
still more, expecting the door to burst open. But the mysterious hand
that had shut it had shut it well. It did not move. Only a low
despairing growl was heard, and then all was silent till a few minutes
after, when another growl came from some distance off, and then Aureole
felt sure the danger was past: the beast had gone away, for, though she
had not seen him, she was certain he was none other than the monster of
her dreams. The poor animals cowered down again in their corner, and
Aureole, surprised at the quickness with which her terror had passed,
threw herself on her couch and fell into a sweet sleep. When she woke,
the sun was already some way up in the sky; the door was half open, and
a soft sweet breeze fluttered into the hut. All was in order; the little
fire freshly lighted, the remains of last night's supper removed, and a
tempting little breakfast arranged. Aureole could scarcely believe her
eyes. "Some one must have come in while I was asleep," she said, and
Fido seemed to understand what she meant. He jumped up, wagging his
tail, and was delighted when Aureole sat down at the little table to eat
what was provided. All her pets seemed as happy as possible, and had
quite forgotten their fright. So, after breakfast, Aureole called them
all about her and set off again on her rambles. Whither she was to go
she knew not; she had obeyed the summons as well as she could, and now
waited to see what more to do. The animals seemed to think they had got
to the end of their journey, and gambolled and fluttered about in the
best of spirits. And even Aureole herself felt it impossible to be sad
or anxious. Never had she seen anything so beautiful as the forest, with
its countless paths among the trees, each more tempting than the other,
the sunshine peeping in through the branches, the lovely flowers of
colours and forms she had never seen before, the beautiful birds
warbling among the trees, the little squirrels and rabbits playing
about, and the graceful deer one now and then caught sight of.
'"Why," exclaimed Aureole, "_this_ the terrible enchanted forest! It is
a perfect fairyland."
'"You say true," said a voice beside her, which made her start. "To such
as _you_ it is a fairyland of delight. But to _me_!" and before Aureole
could recover herself from her surprise, there before her stood the
Prince Halbert! But how changed! Scarcely had she recognised him when
every feeling was lost in that of pity.
'"Oh, poor Halbert," she cried, "so I have found you! Where have you
been? What makes you look so miserable and ill?"
'For Halbert seemed wasted to a shadow. His clothes, torn and tattered,
hung loosely about him. His face was pale and thin, and his eyes sad and
hopeless, though, as he saw the pitying look in her face, a gleam of
brightness came into his.
'"Oh, Aureole, how good of you to come! It is out of pity for _me_, who
so little deserve it. But will you have strength to do all that is
required to free me from this terrible bondage?"
'"Explain yourself, Halbert," Aureole replied. "What is it you mean?
What bondage? Remember I know nothing; not even if this is truly the
enchanted forest."
'Halbert glanced at the sun, now risen high in the heavens. "I have but
a quarter of an hour," he said. "It is only one hour before noon that I
am free."
'And then he went on to relate as quickly as he could what had come over
him. Fallen into the power of the invisible spirits of the enchanted
land, whose wrath he had for long incurred by his cruelty to those
beneath him, among whom were poor little Fido, and the unhappy horse who
had dropped dead beneath him as soon as they entered the forest, his
punishment had been pronounced to him by a voice in his dreams. It was a
terrible one. For twenty-three hours of the twenty-four which make the
day and night, he was condemned to roam the woods in the guise of a
dreadful monster, bringing terror wherever he came. "I have to be in
appearance what I was formerly in heart," he said bitterly. "You cannot
imagine how fearful it is to see the tender innocent little animals
fleeing from me in terror, though I would now die rather than injure one
of them. And even you, Aureole, if you saw me you too would rush from me
in horror."
'"I have seen you," she replied. "I have twice seen you in my dreams,
and now that I know all I shall not fear you."
'"Do you indeed think so?" he exclaimed eagerly. "Your pity and courage
are my only hope. For I am doomed to continue this awful life--for
hundreds of years perhaps--till twelve dumb animals mount on my back and
let me carry them out of this forest. In my despair, when I heard this
sentence, I thought of you and your favourites, whom I used to mock at
and ill-treat more than you knew. They love and trust you so much that
it is possible you may make them do this. But I fear for your own
courage."
'"No," said Aureole, "that will not fail. And Fido is of a most
forgiving nature. See here," she went on, calling to the little dog,
"here is poor Halbert, who wants you to love him. Stroke him, Halbert,"
and as the Prince gently did so, Fido looked up in his face with wistful
eyes, and began timidly to wag his tail, while Lello and the rabbit drew
near, and the birds fluttered, chirping above their heads. It was a
pretty picture.
'"See," said Aureole, raising her bright face from caressing the good
little creatures, "see, Halbert, how loving and gentle they are! It will
not be difficult. In many ways they are wiser than we. But I can never
again believe that the spirits of the forest are evil or mischievous.
Rather do I now think them good and benevolent. How happy seem all the
creatures under their care!"
'"I know no more than I have told you," said Halbert; "but I too believe
they must be good, cruelly as they have punished me, for I deserved it.
And doubtless all those who are said to have disappeared in the forest
have been kept here for good purposes. And such as you, Aureole, have
nothing to fear in any country or from any spirits. But I must go," he
exclaimed. "I would not have you _yet_ see me in my other form. You must
reflect over what I have said, and prepare yourself for it."
'"And when, then, shall I see you again?" she asked.
'"To-night, at sunset, at the door of your hut, you will see--alas, not
_me_!" he whispered, and then in a moment he had disappeared.
'At sunset that evening Aureole sat at the door of the little hut,
surrounded by her animals. She had petted and caressed them even more
than usual, so anxious was she to prepare them for their strange task.
She had even talked of it to Fido and Lello with a sort of vague idea
that they might understand a little, though their only answer was for
Fido to wag his tail and Lello to rub his soft nose against her. But
suddenly both pricked up their ears, and then clinging more closely to
their mistress, began to tremble with fear, while the birds drew near in
a frightened flock.
'"Silly birds," said Aureole, trying to speak in her usual cheerful
tone, "what have _you_ to fear? Bears don't eat little birds, and you
can fly off in a moment. Not that I want you to fly away;" and she
whistled and called to them, at the same time caressing and encouraging
the animals, whose quick ears had caught sooner than she had done the
dreadful baying roar which now came nearer and nearer. It was exactly
the scene of her dreams, and notwithstanding all her determination,
Aureole could not help shivering as the form of the monster came in
sight. "Suppose it is not Halbert," she thought. "Suppose it is all a
trick of the spirits of this enchanted country for my destruction!" And
the idea nearly made her faint as the dreadful beast drew near. He
was so hideous, and his roars made him seem still more so. His great red
tongue hung out of his mouth, his eyes seemed glaring with rage. It was
all Aureole could do to keep her pets round her, and she felt that her
terror would take away all her power over them.
[Illustration: Aureole could not help shivering as the form of the
monster came in sight.]
'"Oh, Halbert," she exclaimed, "_is_ it you? I know you cannot speak,
but can you not make some sign to show me that it is you? I am so
frightened." She had started up as if on the point of running away. The
monster, who was close beside her, opened still wider his huge mouth,
and gave a roar of despair. Then an idea seemed to strike him--he bent
his clumsy knees, and rubbed his great head on the ground at her feet;
Aureole's courage returned. She patted his head, and he gave a faint
groan of relief. Then by degrees, with the greatest patience, she coaxed
the animals to draw near, and at last placed Fido and Lello on the
beast's immense back. But though they now seemed less frightened they
would not stay there, but jumped off again, and pressed themselves close
against her. It was no use; after hours, at least so it seemed to
Aureole, spent in trying, she had to give it up.
'"I cannot do it, Halbert," she said. A groan was his reply. Then
another thought struck her.
'"I will climb on your back myself," she exclaimed; "and then perhaps I
can coax the animals to stay there."
'The poor beast tried to stoop down still lower to make it easier for
Aureole to get on. She managed it without much difficulty, and
immediately Fido and Lello and the rabbit saw her mounted, up they
jumped, for they had no idea of being left behind. The wood-pigeons came
cooing down from the branch where they had taken refuge in their fright,
and perched on her shoulders. Aureole looked up, and called and whistled
to the other birds. Down they came as if bewitched, and settled round
her, all the seven of them on the beast's furry back.
'"Off, Halbert," cried Aureole, afraid to lose an instant, and off,
nothing loth, the beast set. It was hard work to keep on. He plunged
along so clumsily, and went so fast in his eagerness, that it was like
riding on an earthquake. But when now and then he stopped, and gave a
low pitiful roar, as if begging Aureole's pardon for shaking her so, she
always found breath to say: "On, Halbert, on; think not of me."
'And so at last, after hours of this terrible journey, many times during
which Aureole's heart had been in her mouth at the least sign of
impatience among the animals, they reached the borders of the enchanted
country, and as the panting beast emerged from the forest with his
strange burden, poor Aureole slipped fainting off his back. Her task was
done.
'When she came back to her senses and opened her eyes, her first thought
was for the beast, but he had disappeared. Fido and Lello, and all the
others were there, however; the dog licking her hands, the fawn nestling
beside her, and at a little distance stood a figure she seemed to know,
though no longer miserable and wretched as she had last seen him. It was
Halbert, strong and handsome and happy again, but with a look in his
eyes of gentleness and humility and gratitude that had never been there
in the old days.
'"Halbert," said Aureole, sitting up and holding out her hand to him,
"is all then right?"
'"All is right," he replied; "you can see for yourself. But, oh,
Aureole, how can I thank you? My whole life would not be long enough to
repay or----"
'"Think not about thanking me," interrupted Aureole. "My best reward
will be the delight of restoring to my dear country-people a king whose
first object will _now_, I feel assured, be their happiness;" and her
eyes sparkled with delight at the thought.
'She was right. Nothing could exceed the joy of the nation at the return
of Aureole, and thanks to her assurances of his changed character, they
soon learned to trust their new king as he deserved.
'No one ever knew the true history of his disappearance, but all admired
and respected the noble and unselfish courage of Aureole in braving the
dangers of the enchanted forest itself. Her pets all lived to a good old
age, and had every comfort they could wish for. It was said that
Halbert's only sorrow was that for long he could not persuade Aureole to
fulfil her father's wishes by marrying him. But some years later a
rumour came from the far-off country where these events happened,
telling of the beautiful "king's daughter" having at last consented to
become a king's wife as well, now that she knew Halbert to be worthy of
her fullest affection.
'And if this is true, I have no doubt it was for their happiness as well
as for that of their subjects, among whom I include the twelve faithful
animals.'