"There is no way--no way!" One old man, who was bent and tottering,
raised his wrinkled face to the maiden's, and said,--
"Spring gives place to summer, and summer to autumn, and autumn to
winter. What would you? Age is beautiful; it is a time of peace, of
meditation. Youth knows not rest; it is ever striving, fighting,
suffering. When age comes upon us we cease to enjoy as keenly as the
young, but we cease to suffer as bitterly as they who are in the spring
of life. If the scent of the air is less fresh and the voice of the
brook is less sweet, why, the thunder clouds are less dark and the storm
is robbed of its fury."
Beryl bowed her head and rode away. As she passed through the gate an
old woman followed her, and whispered these words,--
"An hour before sunset, on the longest day of summer, Time, in his
chariot, rides through the Village of Youth. If each year thou canst
prevent his doing so, the world will still grow old, but the Village
of Youth will remain young for ever."
"Alas, good dame, how can I hope to succeed in this endeavour?"
"Sweet maiden, thou art beautiful, thou art in the April of life. Time
is gentle and pitiful; throw thyself before his chariot. Thou wilt stay
his flying feet, and thy sovereign will bless thee."
Beryl returned, pondering over the woman's words. She entered that
portion of the palace occupied by the Princess and her suite, and
proceeded to her own chamber.
The hangings were of white silk, and the floor was of ivory. Silver
vases, filled with purple lilacs, perfumed the air. Presently three
maidens entered, to attire their mistress for the evening banquet. One
bathed her face and hands with spring-water, another combed her hair
with a silver comb, and the third robed her in a gown of soft silk,
edged with pearls.
Beryl's cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled with excitement, as
she hastened along the corridor to the apartments of the Princess. Her
royal mistress was seated in the portico which looked on to the palace
gardens. Never had Beryl seen the future Queen so sad. Forgetting her
news in her anxiety, she threw herself at Rowena's feet, and besought
her to say what ailed her.
"It is the old trouble that afflicts me, dear child. The King grows
worse, and I fear that if he cannot conquer his melancholy he will go
mad."
Then Beryl, in hurried words, told Rowena of her visit to the Village
of Eld, and of the woman's message.
The Princess became deeply interested in the recital, and as her
handmaiden unfolded her plan of waiting for Time on the longest day of
summer, she gradually caught her excitement.
"Young for ever," she murmured, with a sigh, "young for ever in a summer
world! It is too good to be true, Beryl; besides, if it were not, how
could I let thee depart upon such a quest? Better far that I should go
myself."
"Nay, sweet lady; thou art espoused to our lord, the King, but I have no
lover who would grieve for me. Besides, I can but fail; and so thou wilt
pity my unsuccess, I shall be content."
[Illustration]
The air was filled with the scent of spring flowers, and of the many
roses which had clambered over the portico. Beryl sat at the Princess'
feet, and lifted up a pair of beseeching eyes to her face. At that
moment the young King entered. He was made acquainted with the question
in dispute. On hearing of Beryl's plan a joyful expression lighted up
his sad features, and at his earnest entreaty Rowena gave her consent
to the undertaking.