the scrape from which neither of you came back, my late husband went
into the hills to sell a horse. It is quite true. He gave his beast a
good feed of oats with a dash of cider in it, so that it might have a
firm leg and a bright eye; he took it to the market near the hills. His
corn and his cider were not lost, for it made his horse sell better. It
is the same with beasts as with men; they are judged by appearances. My
late husband was pleased at the good business he had done; he offered to
drink with his friends, undertaking to drink fair to them. And I must
tell you, your Highness, that there was not a man in the whole Clarides
who could drink fairer with his friends than my husband. So much so
that, on this day, after a great deal of good feeling and harmony, he
came back alone in the twilight and took a wrong road, for want of
finding the right one. Finding himself near a cavern, he saw as clear
as it was possible in his condition and at that hour a band of little
men carrying a boy or a girl on a stretcher. He ran away for fear of a
mishap, for wine did not deprive him of discretion. But at some
distance from the cavern, having let his pipe fall, he bent to pick it
up and took hold of a little satin slipper instead. He made a remark
about it which he liked to repeat when he was in a good temper. 'This is
the first time,' he said to himself, 'that a pipe changes into a
slipper.' Now, as this slipper was the slipper of a little girl, he
thought that she who had lost it in the wood had been carried off by the
dwarfs, and that it was her capture he had seen. He was just on the
point of putting the slipper in his pocket when little men, covered with
hoods, threw themselves upon him and gave him so many smacks on the head
that he remained on the spot quite dazed."
"Glauce! Glauce!" cried George, "it is Bee's slipper! Give it me that
I may kiss it a thousand times. It shall lie on my heart for ever, in a
bag of scented silk, and when I die it shall be put in my coffin."
"As you please, your Highness; but where will you go to get it? The
dwarfs took it back from my poor husband, and he even thought that why
he had been so thoroughly beaten was because he tried to put it in his
pocket to show the magistrates. He was accustomed to say on the subject
when he was in a good temper..."
"Enough! Enough! Only tell me the name of the cave."
"My lord, it is called the cave of the dwarfs, and it is well called so.
My late husband..."
"Glauce! not a word more! But you, Freeheart, do you know where this
cave is?"
"My lord," answered Freeheart, finishing his mug of ale, "you would be
quite certain I do if you knew my songs better. I have composed at
least a dozen on this cave, and I have described it without forgetting
the smallest sprig of moss. I venture to say, my lord, that of these
twelve songs, six are really worth something. But the six others are
not to be disdained. I will just sing you one or two..."
"Freeheart," cried George, "we will seize the cave of the dwarfs, and we
will deliver Bee!"
"Nothing could be more certain," answered Freeheart.
*CHAPTER XX*
*IN WHICH A DANGEROUS ADVENTURE IS RELATED*
As soon as night came, and the whole castle was asleep, George and
Freeheart slipped into the low hall to get arms. There, under the smoky
joists, gleamed lances, swords, dirks, espadons, hunting knives,
daggers, all that is required to kill man and wolf. Under each rafter,
a complete suit of armour stood upright, holding itself so sternly and
proudly that it seemed as if it was still filled by the soul of the
brave man who had arrayed himself in it in bygone days to go on great
adventures. And the glove clasped the lance in ten iron fingers, while
the shield rested on the tassets of the thigh, as if to teach that
prudence is necessary to courage and that the good soldier is armed for
defence as well as for attack. George selected amid so ample a choice
the suit of armour which the father of Bee had carried as far as the
isles of Avalon and of Thule. He put it on with the help of Freeheart,
and he did not forget the shield on which was blazoned proper the golden
sun of the Clarides. Freeheart, on the other hand, arrayed himself in
the good old steel coat of his grandfather and crowned himself with an
obsolete headpiece, to which he added a kind of moth-eaten and ragged
plume, feather, or brush. He made this choice for fun and to look
comical; for he considered that gaiety, good at all hours, is especially
useful when there are great dangers to be incurred.
Having thus armed themselves, they went off, under the moon, over the
dark fields. Freeheart had tied the horses at the edge of a little
wood, near the fortress gate, where they found them gnawing the bark of
the bushes; these horses were very swift, and it took them less than an
hour to reach, amid dancing will o' wisps and confused visions, the
mountains of the dwarfs.
"Here is the cave," said Freeheart.
The lord and squire dismounted. Sword in hand, they entered the cave.
Great courage was required to engage in such an adventure. But George
was in love and Freeheart was faithful. And as the most delightful of
poets says:
"What cannot Friendship do guided by sweet Love?"
The lord and the squire walked in the darkness for nearly an hour; then
they saw a great blaze, at which they were astonished. It was one of
those meteors with which we know the dwarfs illuminate their kingdom.
By the light of this subterranean brightness they saw they were at the
base of an ancient castle.
"Here," said George, "is the castle which we must seize."
"Certainly," answered Freeheart, "but allow me to drink a few drops of
this wine which I brought with me as a weapon, for a good wine makes a
good man, and a good man makes a good spear, and a good spear makes a
bad foe."
George, not seeing a living soul, roughly struck with the hilt of his
sword the door of the castle. A small quavering voice made him lift his
head, and he saw at one of the windows a very small old man with a long
beard who asked him:
"Who are you?"
"George of the White Moor."
"And what do you want?"
"I want to take back Bee of the Clarides, whom you unjustly detain in
your mole-hill, ugly moles that you are!"
The dwarf disappeared, and again George found himself alone with
Freeheart, who said to him:
"My lord, I do not know if I am guilty of exaggeration when I state that
in your answer to the dwarf you did not perhaps exhaust all the
resources of the most persuasive eloquence."
Freeheart feared nothing, but he was old. His manners, like the top of
his head, had been smoothed by time, and he did not like to see people
annoyed. George, on the other hand, rushed about yelling:
"Vile earthmen, moles, badgers, dormice, ferrets, and water-rats, only
open the door and I will cut all your ears off."
But hardly had he finished speaking these words when the bronze door of
the castle opened of itself. No one could be seen pushing the huge
leaves.
George was frightened, and yet he stepped through the mysterious door
because his courage was greater than his fear. Once inside the court,
he saw at all the windows, in all the galleries, on all the roofs, on
all the gables, inside the lamp and even on the chimney-pots dwarfs
armed with bows and cross-bows.
He heard the bronze door shut behind him, and a shower of arrows began
to fall hard on his head and his shoulders. For the second time he was
very frightened, and for the second time he overcame his fear.
Shield on arm, and sword in hand, he went up the stairs, when suddenly
he saw, standing on the highest step, and calmly majestic, a stately
dwarf, bearing the golden sceptre, the royal crown, and the purple
mantle. And this dwarf he recognised to be the little man who had freed
him from his glass prison. Then he threw himself at his feet and said
to him in tears:
"My benefactor, is it you? Are you one of those who have taken from me
Bee whom I love?"
"I am King Loc," answered the dwarf. "I have kept Bee with me to teach
her the secrets of the dwarfs. Child, you have come upon my kingdom
like hail on a garden of flowers. But the dwarfs, less weak than men,
do not grow irritated as they do. I am too much above you in mind to
feel anger at your acts, whatever they may be. Of all the advantages I
have over you there is one that I will carefully keep; it is that of
being just. I will send for Bee, and I will ask her if she wishes to
follow you. I will do this not because you demand it, but because it is
my duty."
There was a deep silence, and Bee appeared in a white dress with her
fair hair loose. As soon as she saw George she ran to throw herself in
his arms, and clasped with all her might the iron breast of the knight.
Then King Loc said to her:
"Bee, is it true that this is the man whom you wish to marry?"
"It is true, very true, that this is the man, little King Loc," answered
Bee. "Look, little men, how I laugh and how I am happy."
And she began to cry. Her tears fell on George's cheek, and they were
tears of happiness; laughter mingled with the tears and a thousand
delightful words which had no sense, like those murmured by little
children. She did not reflect that the sight of her happiness could
sadden the heart of King Loc.
"Dearest," George said to her, "I find you again just as I wished you to
be: the most beautiful and the best of beings. You love me! Heaven be
thanked, you love me! But, Bee, do you not also love King Loc a little,
who drew me from the glass prison where the Sylphs kept me far from
you?"
Bee turned to King Loc:
"Little King Loc, you did this!" she cried: "you loved me and you freed
the one who loved me and whom I loved..."
She could say no more, and she fell on her knees, her head in her hands.
All the little men, witnesses of this scene, shed tears on their
crossbows. King Loc alone kept an unmoved face. Bee, discovering in
him so much magnanimity and so much kindness, felt for him the love of a
daughter for a father. She seized the hand of her lover and said:
"George, I love you: heaven only knows how much I love you. But how can
I leave little King Loc?"
"Ha, ha! you are both prisoners of mine," cried King Loc in a terrible
voice.
He put on a terrible voice by way of amusement and to play a good joke.
But really he was not angry. Freeheart came to him and bent a knee to
the ground.
"Sir," he said, "will your Highness be pleased to let me share the
captivity of the master I serve?"
Bee, recognising him, said to him:
"It is you, my good Freeheart. I am pleased to see you again. You are
wearing a very ugly feather. Tell me, have you composed any new songs?"
And King Loc took them all three off to dinner.
*CHAPTER XXI*
*IN WHICH ALL ENDS WELL*
The next day George and Freeheart dressed themselves in sumptuous
clothes which the dwarfs had prepared for them, and betook themselves to
the Hall of State where King Loc, in the dress of an Emperor, soon came
to join them as he had promised. He was followed by his officers
wearing arms, and furs of a wild magnificence, and helmets on which
swan-wings waved. The dwarfs, thronging in crowds, came in by the
windows, the ventilators, and the chimneys, and even crept under the
seats.
King Loc got up on a stone table, at the end of which were drawn up rows
of flagons, candlesticks, bowls, and cups of fine gold and of marvellous
workmanship. He motioned to Bee and to George to come near, and said:
"Bee, a law of the Dwarf people requires that a stranger received within
our house should be free at the end of seven full years. You have spent
seven years in our midst, Bee, and I would be a bad citizen and a guilty
king if I detained you longer. But before I let you go away, I wish,
not having been able to marry you, to betroth you myself to the man you
have chosen. I do so with joy, because I love you more than myself, and
my pain, if any is left, is like a little shadow unnoticed in my
happiness. Bee of the Clarides, Princess of the Dwarfs, give me your
hand; and you, George of the White Moor, give me yours."
Having put the hand of George in that of Bee, King Loc turned to his
people and said in a loud voice:
"Little men, my children, you are witnesses that these two here
undertake mutually to marry each other on earth. Let them return there
together and together bring forth deeds of courage, modesty, and
faithfulness, as good gardeners tend and bring to flower roses,
carnations and peonies."
At these words the dwarfs shouted loudly, and, not knowing whether they
ought to lament or to rejoice, they were distracted by contrary
feelings. King Loc turned again to the two betrothed, and showing them
the bowls, the flagons, all the splendid plate:
"These," he said, "are the presents of the dwarfs. Take them, Bee, they
will recall your little friends; they are given by them and not by me.
You will know in a moment what I mean to give you."
There was a long silence. King Loc gazed with a lovely look of
tenderness at Bee, whose beautiful radiant head, crowned with roses,
rested on the shoulder of her betrothed.
Then he spoke again in these terms:
"Children, it is not enough to love much; you must love well. Great
love is good, undoubtedly; wise love is better. May yours be as mild as
it is strong; may it want nothing, not even indulgence, and may some
pity be mingled with it. You are young, beautiful and good; but you are
human, and, for that very reason, subject to many miseries. This is
why, if some pity does not form part of the feelings you have for each
other, these feelings will not be adapted to the circumstances of your
common life; they will be like holiday clothes which are no protection
against the wind and the rain. You only love those securely whom you
love even in their weaknesses and meannesses. Mercy, forgiveness,
consolation, that is love and all its science."
King Loc stopped, overcome by sweet and powerful emotions. He resumed
his speech:
"Children, be happy. Keep your happiness, keep it carefully."
While he spoke, Pic, Tad, Dic, Bob, Truc, and Paw, clinging to Bee's
white mantle, covered with kisses the girl's naked arms and hands. And
they begged her not to leave them. Then King Loc drew from his belt a
ring, the stone of which flung showers of light. It was the magic ring
with which he had opened the dungeon of the Sylphs. He slipped Bee's
finger through it, and said:
"Bee, receive at my hands this ring, which will allow you to enter at
all times, you and your husband, the kingdom of the dwarfs. You will be
received with delight and helped in every way. On the other hand, teach
the children you will have not to despise the innocent and industrious
little men who live under the earth."
[Illustration: Dwarf]
*LOOKING BACKWARD*
[Sidenote: _Chapter I._]
Now that we know all about Princess Bee, we may find it pleasant to look
backward and think a little about the story, chapter by chapter, to find
out whether it has come to stay in our minds. Some stories do and others
don't. We are glad to forget some stories, but I do not think that the
story of Bee is one of that kind. Besides, it is told with such loving
carefulness that, for the sake of the writer, who wrote that he might
please and inspire us, we ought to read it again with a quiet mind,
undisturbed by any thought of what is going to happen next; for now we
know all about that.
It is a story of that wonder time so often spoken of as "long, long
ago," and its date does not matter; but you will see from the first
chapter that it belongs to the time of the knights, the best of whom
tried to remedy things that were wrong and make the world a finer place
in which to live.
Do you like the Countess of the White Moor? And why? How much older was
George than Bee?
[Sidenote: _Chapter II._]
Read over several times the description of the estates of the Duchess of
Clarides (there are three bites to _this_ cherry). It is such a good
"pen-picture" and there are many more in this story for which you ought
to watch with care. The old monk in the tower with his birds and his
books is worth thinking about and so are his rules; so also are the
rules of the Duchess. There is a good "pen-picture" with two trees and
two children in it. I wonder if you could sketch it?
[Sidenote: _Chapter III._]
Do they teach falconry in your school? If not, you might at least try
to find out something about it, for it was a fascinating sport--except,
of course, for the little birds--much better fun than learning several
styles of handwriting or getting "grammatical instruction with barbarous
terminology." What a lovely jumble of big words! What about that
sentence, "affectionate lessons are the only good lessons"? And
whatever is "inebriety "? It must be something very dreadful. I fancy
it is something catching and can most easily be caught at "Tin-jugs,"
and "Red Lions," and "Indian Queens," and "Bull and Bushes," and
suchlike places where they know absolutely nothing about synecdoche or
aposiopesis either.
[Sidenote: _Chapter IV._]
There are some lovely colours in the first bit of this chapter. Perhaps
you could get someone to make a colour-sketch? And pearls _have_ a
"mild splendour," haven't they, quite different from diamonds or rubies?
If you are a girl wouldn't you like to have a hair-ribbon like Bee's?
George and Bee were taught a beautiful lesson that morning, and learnt
it, too. I wish we could all describe beautiful scenery as beautifully
as the Duchess could--and, by-the-way, look carefully at the iris flower
when you meet with one again. Sylphs? Have you another name for them?
What a sounding title the old beggar-woman gave herself, and what a well
furnished kitchen she had! Have you a pipkin and a caldron at home?
What are the duties of Dwarfs?
[Sidenote: _Chapter V._]
Have you ever noticed that hills and woods are really "blue in the
distance"? A great many writers have done so. What a charming
definition (horrid word) Princess Bee gave of the horizon, and how
differently she thought of the bigness of the world from George. Do you
think they would find lobsters by fishing under the old stone bridge?
(Perhaps, however, this is too severe a question for a tale about "long,
long ago.") Those forbidden Sylphs were still in the children's minds,
but Bee had less fear than George--or was she daring George to go?
Which of the two children was the best quarreller?
[Sidenote: _Chapter VI._]
And _now_, who is the brave adventurer? There is a pretty picture of
which the "Headless Woman" is the centre. Read the description again
and again and look at the picture with closed eyes. There is another
with Bee in the centre, holding out her skirt for the cherries. Bee's
teachers had not taught her economics, had they? It would be hard to
find a more charming description of a walk than is contained in this
chapter. Bee is soon plunged in despair, but George is a little
Greatheart and soon has his reward. Read slowly and more than once the
description of the lake. The sudden appearance of the goose-girl gives
us another pretty picture. What is a demijohn? How does Bee tell us
that the day is waning? Consider the words "Reeds, like pliant swords,"
and the pretty coloured flower-picture at the end of the chapter.
[Sidenote: _Chapter VII._]
George still plays the part of Greatheart manfully and is ready for any
event, having used his observing powers on the fruits and berries like a
Boy Scout. Think of that sharp picture against the pale sky of
evening--"a little dwarf riding on a crow." Then of the changing
picture--like a lovely scene in a play--as night falls upon the lake.
See how the Sylphs come while the boy stands entranced. Did he remember
the words of Bee's mother as he was carried "through the waters, in
halls of crystal and porphyry"? And what a lovely word the last one is!
[Sidenote: _Chapter VIII._]
It would be good fun to try to draw a dwarf from the description given
at the beginning of this chapter, helped by a glance at some of the
little pictures in this book. Can't you feel how quick the dwarfs were
as you say the words "incredible nimbleness," rolling them round your
tongue? I wonder what it means to "look like an old poet." Pic's last
sentence, at all events, is very like poetry. Rug is very good at
argument and at sticking to his own opinion. Tad is a dwarf of
character--"Justice should prevail, and not custom." As for Pan, he
might have been a very sensible father, mightn't he? There is a pretty
picture when Bee raises herself upon her elbow and another one of a
different kind when Pic stands upon his dignity (to make himself taller)
and speaks the sounding sentence which begins, "She is only a child."
And what a depth of real truth there is in Tad's words, "You will
consider us less ugly when you like us better." No one who is loved can
be ugly to the one who loves.
And what a sad reproach there is in Tad's words to Rug: "You are more
like a man than a dwarf." This chapter ends with another charming
picture.
[Sidenote: _Chapter IX._]
How many colours or tints are mentioned in the first paragraph of this
chapter? In the next paragraph poetry and gentle fun have kissed each
other. A dwarf of "great majesty"? Oh, yes. Majesty is not a matter of
inches. The _dwarf_ monarch understood little girls in a wonderful way
and Bee was soon at her ease as every guest is who asks for a pair of
slippers, right off. The next thing such a guest would do would be to
poke the fire! The illustrious Belisarius? He was a famous general who
won many victories in Italy and the East, and was brave, generous, just
and faithful and afraid of nothing but his wife. Bee was just a little
ungracious about those slippers, don't you think? But there was some
excuse for her--she _did_ want to be at home again. It would be a
lovely arrangement if those who love each other _could_ exchange dreams
when they are parted for a time. Some people say they do, and possibly
the dwarf poet believed it to be possible.
[Sidenote: _Chapter X._]
It was a strange but beautiful underground world in which the dwarfs had
their home. Why _lava_ pavement? Bee's lessons must have been
fascinating. If only we could all learn without books! Then perhaps we
also should "move with grace and express ourselves according to the rule
of poetry." What a delightful picture of a puppet show is given in this
chapter! There are clever men and women to-day who can make dolls act
in this way. Read the description again, for it is well worth while.
Wouldn't you like to play the theorbo? It has a lovely name. Did the
dwarfs change as the days and months passed and the years made their
round?
[Sidenote: _Chapters XI. and XII._]
The deep, deep darkness between the rocky walls makes the light shine
all the brighter, and Bee's exclamation might be that of a blind girl
whose sight is suddenly restored. Have you ever seen a chalice, a pyx,
or a patin, and would you know them if you saw them again? Or a
thurible? And wouldn't you like that set of moonstone chessmen? What a
wonderful description of a coffer full of jewels! Yet, with all this
wealth before her Bee chooses to go back to earth and into the sunshine
back to her mother and George of the White Moor, more precious than
pearls. Read again and again, nay, learn by heart what King Loc said to
Bee after he had tested her--for he was only testing her all the time.
Was there ever such a proposal of marriage? But little King Loc has his
own dignity--also his hopes.
[Sidenote: _Chapter XIII._]
Who would be a princess and wear a crown which interfered with flowing
locks and merry gambols? The story-teller strikes a sad note. Bee and
the little king are both unhappy and there is a pathetic and very
beautiful picture of the princess gazing on the sunbeam; another of her
arrival on earth again. The king's instructions are difficult and there
is danger in them. The journey home is fascinating, reminding us of
Peter and Wendy on the way to the Land of Lost Boys; so also is the
arrival home, which is fully described. But the sad ending is told in a
few curt words. It is much too pitiful for a long description.
[Sidenote: _Chapter XIV._]
Is this story beginning to remind you of an old, old tale told long ago
among the Ancient Greeks, a tale of a lost princess carried off to the
Underworld by Pluto and mourned on earth by Ceres, the goddess of the
corn? If you happen to know that old, old story you will be able to
make interesting comparisons. But to return to King Loc. The secret
comes out. Did Bee know that she loved George of the White Moor when
King Loc had asked her, long before, whether she loved anyone else?
Have _you_ known Bee's secret all along? The effect of her declaration
is rather piteous--with a smile behind the sadness. King Loc's exit is
very dignified and dramatic and, by the way, what an excellent play
could be made from this story, or a series of tableaux.
[Sidenote: _Chapter XV._]