MEETING AND PARTING.
The next night Rosebud lay awake, anxiously waiting for the hour when
granny should go forth with her lantern. Her heart beat quickly at the
thought of what must that night be done, of all that Bertha expected
from her, and she only a little girl, only Rosebud.
But courage was by no means wanting. And, besides, she was very curious
to see the sweet singer,--the pleasant-voiced maiden, who, she felt
sure, must be wondrously beautiful.
At length footsteps were heard in the next room, the outer door closed,
and Rosebud could see from her window the old woman hobbling away to
the Wood. She followed, well wrapped in her cloak. Everything was the
same as before,--the dew upon the grass, the stillness, the brightness,
all the same. Having reached the Wood, Rosebud watched very closely
where the old woman disappeared, and entered, behind her, the opening
of which Bertha had spoken. She remembered the ten stone stairs,
counted them one by one, and reached the bottom in safety. Granny was
making her way along the passage; at length she paused, and set down
the lantern. Stooping over, she removed a stone from the wall near the
ground; from behind this stone she drew out a heavy brass key, with
which she proceeded to open the iron door.
Rosebud felt a strong desire to follow still farther, and, if possible,
get just one glimpse of the mysterious singer and her little maid, but
deemed it wiser to follow Bertha’s directions and return home at once.
* * * * *
Not many days after, granny, one fine morning, took her staff and her
bundle, and started for the town. “Now,” thought Rosebud, “now, if
ever, must I fulfil my promise.”
And when Myrtle had gone off for a day’s fishing, as granny now often
compelled him to do; and when she had piled up her drift-wood, and
scrubbed the platters, and sanded the floor, and looked at her plants,
and driven the geese to water,--she hastened away over hills and
valleys to the Wood, as she had often done before.
The flat stone was soon found, and, after some exertion, removed.
Carefully descending the ten steep stairs, she found herself in a
narrow passage below. If she had but thought of the lantern! But it was
now too late for that.
With both hands extended, she groped along the passage to the iron
door. Here, stooping down, she soon found the loose stone. The heavy
brass key was drawn forth, and applied to the lock. But, although it
turned freely, the door would not open. What was now to be done? There
was no time to lose. Suppose some chance traveller were to find the
entrance? or suppose granny herself should happen that way?
Again she grasped the key, again it turned in the lock, and again the
door would not open.
“Bertha! Bertha!” she called. But Bertha could not hear.
When almost ready to give up in despair, she heard, not far off, a
sound like the warbling of a bird, and could very clearly distinguish
these words:--
“Courage, maiden, never fear,
All is well, no danger near;
To the left now turn the key,
Three times three, three times three.”
With new courage Rosebud began turning the key to the left, and at the
ninth turning the door swung slowly open.
But there was yet a long way to travel. A long, long way it seemed to
Rosebud. But she thought of her promise to the sorrowful maiden, and
kept bravely on.
Presently she heard voices singing, and knew then that the end of the
long passage was near. She called aloud, “Bertha! Bertha!”
“Is it you? Is it Rosebud?” cried a voice. “Hasten, there is yet
another iron door.”
“But how shall I enter?” called out Rosebud.
“Feel for the bolt. You can easily slip the bolt,” said Bertha.
The bolt yielded readily, the door flew open, and Rosebud felt herself
embraced with kisses and with tears of joy.
For all the dim light, Rosebud could easily perceive how beautiful was
her new friend. And she stood gazing, like one entranced, at her dark,
flashing eyes, her black, braided hair, and her rosy red cheeks. Upon
her head was a small velvet cap of scarlet, and the facings of her dark
velvet jacket were of the same color. She was but little taller than
Rosebud, but was straight and well formed, and the long, dark braids of
hair hung below her waist. A small plume, fastened to the little cap
by a cluster of jewels, drooped gracefully at one side. Her face wore
a merry look in spite of her troubles, and when she smiled--O, Rosebud
thought nothing could be more beautiful than her smile!
“This is my dear little maid,” said she,--“my faithful, loving little
maid, who will never desert me.”
The little maid now came forward, and was, so Rosebud thought, almost
as charming as her mistress. She was certainly as ready to escape, and
in any way Bertha might choose.
It was arranged that Rosebud should leave them, and return to the hut,
lest some one should come out in search of her. Late in the afternoon
Bertha and her little maid would venture forth, taking care to lock
the door behind them, and leave the great brass key in its place.
They would remain concealed in the wood until evening, and would then
proceed with all haste to the shore, where Rosebud promised to meet
them and guide them to a boat.
* * * * *
That night there was no sleep for Rosebud. The moment that granny left
the hut with her lantern, she arose and stepped out softly upon the
sands. The stars were out, but the moon had not yet risen,--which, for
those who wished to remain hid, was all the better. Rosebud walked
timidly down to the water’s edge, her little heart beating quickly, for
she knew that Bertha and her little maid were then on their way to the
shore. She sat down upon the rocks to wait. The time seemed long. Had
harm befallen them? Perhaps they were lost in the woods, or had met
with robbers, or granny had found them.
But as Rosebud sat there upon the rocks, listening to the dash of the
waves, fearing she knew not what, though hoping all would be well,
she heard footsteps near, and at the same moment a low, sweet voice
singing,--
“Go build me a boat,
All lightly to float
And away o’er the waters so free
We’ll row, we’ll row,
We’ll cheerily row.”
Rosebud sprang to meet them.
“Safe?” she whispered.
“Safe!” cried Bertha. “Where is the boat?”
“This way,” said Rosebud; “come with me.”
Bertha threw her arm about Rosebud, and, as they thus walked along
upon the sands, listening to the rush of the night breeze through the
tall beach-grass, and to the never-ending song of the sea, the stars
twinkling down upon them all the while, she put to her many questions.
Was granny really her grandmother? How long had they lived there? Who
were her parents? Where were they? Why was she not with them?
And Rosebud told Bertha her whole history,--weeping as she spoke of her
father and mother, and told how they had loved her. And Bertha wept
too, and begged that Rosebud would go with her, and be her own dear
sister.
But no, Rosebud said, when Rupert came, she might, perhaps, obtain from
him some tidings of her parents. She must wait for Rupert. But if,
after long waiting, Rupert came not, then she and Myrtle together would
seek in distant lands to learn their fate.
Then Bertha promised that her father should send a great army to take
the wicked Magnus, and to rescue the good King Brondé and his Lily
Queen.
* * * * *
In the boat they selected were lines, hooks, leads, and a heavy
sea-coat. These were left upon the rocks, and in the pocket of the
heavy sea-coat Bertha placed two rings containing jewels of value, that
the owner of the boat might suffer no loss.
[Illustration]
Bertha then embraced Rosebud, kissing her many times. “My dear
Rosebud,” said she, “your sweet face draws my whole heart to you. I
grieve that we must now part, and you be left here so sad and lonely.
May my dearest hopes perish if I do not yet render you good service!
But see! the moon is rising. One more kiss! Farewell!”
They launched their boat, and, stepping in, pushed boldly off from
shore. The rising moon threw its beams across the sea. Each little wave
danced and sparkled in the light.
Farther, farther away sped the boat; and Rosebud, listening to the dash
of the oars, could faintly distinguish the words of Bertha’s farewell,
which was a reply to Rosebud’s question, whether they were not afraid
to sail away thus alone.
“O, not alone.
The moon shall guide me o’er the sea;
The little stars are friends to me;
And the dancing waves, so light and free,
O, they shall bear me company!
Farewell, now fare thee well!”
Fainter and fainter grew the music. The boat was now but a speck upon
the waters.
And thus did Bertha and her little maiden float away in the moonlight
out upon the wide sea!