"Dear Ivan, I have loved you truly; but you no longer care for Moneta.
I will go away with the little child, and all our gold shall be yours.
Farewell!"
Then she embraced him with falling tears. His heart was stirred within
him; and he would have followed her, only he knew not which way she
had gone.
Soon the water-kelpie came to him in the form of a horse; and ran
before him, neighing fiercely, and breathing fire from his mouth. This
is the way kelpies take to announce the fact that some one has gone
under the water.
So the man followed the kelpie. His heart was swelling with grief;
and all his love for his wife and child had come back to him.
He looked into the lake, and saw the fair city. In a transparent
palace Moneta was sitting, crowned with pearls, the child sleeping on
her bosom. He shouted,--
"Come back, O Moneta!" but she heard him not.
He went every day to the same spot, never leaving it until the water
was clear, and he had seen his wife and child. He cared no more for
his fine castle and his gold; for the castle was empty, and the gold
could not speak.
"Alas," cried he, "if I could listen to the music of Moneta's voice!
if I could hold the child in my arms once more!"
Now he cared for nothing but to gaze into the waters at Moneta and her
child.
One day, the water-kelpie appeared to him in the form of an old man.
[Illustration: THE WATER-KELPIE. Page 70.]
"Why sit you here, sighing like the north wind?" said the kelpie.
"I have loved gold better than my best friends," replied Ivan; "and
now my best friends are taken away from me, and the gold is left; but
I love it no longer."
"Ah, ah!" growled the kelpie; "I have heard of such men as you:
nothing is dear till it is missed. You should have thought of that
before. If your lost ones were to return, you would treat them as
badly as ever, no doubt."
"No, no," groaned Ivan; "I would love them better than all the wealth
in the world! I would love them better than my own life! Ah, the sting
it is to think of my own ingratitude!"
"Hold!" said the kelpie: "grumble to yourself if you like, but don't
vex my ears with your complaints. Suppose I were to bring back Moneta
and the child,--would you give me your chests of gold?"
"That I will," cried the man, "right joyfully."
"Not so fast: will you give me your castle as well?"
"Ah, yes, castle and gold; take them, and welcome."
"Not so fast: Moneta and her child are worth more than these. Will you
give me the castle and gold, and ten years of your life?"
"With all my heart."
"Then," said the kelpie "go home, and to-morrow you shall see Moneta
and her child."
When the morrow came, the husband and wife wept for joy at meeting
once more; and Ivan said,--
"Can you forgive me, dearest Moneta?"
Moneta had already forgiven him; and the three--father, mother, and
child--loved one another, and were content to the end of their lives;
and Ivan said,--
"Once for all I have found that gold cannot make one happy; but, with
the blessing of a clear conscience, warm hearts and loving words are
the sweetest things in life."