THE END OF THE BROWN BULL.
"'And happy they ever lived after'--
Yes, that was the end of the tale."
"The Princess collected her courage, and turned in the direction of the
sound. It seemed to come from a little thicket of close-growing bushes
near which she had been passing. For a minute or two she could
distinguish nothing, but another moan guided her in the right direction,
and there, to her horror and distress, she saw the poor Prince lying on
the ground, pale and death-like. At first she thought he was without
consciousness, but when she hastened up to him with a cry, he opened his
eyes.
"'Ah!' he said, faintly; 'I never thought I should have escaped alive.
How good of you to have come to seek for me, Princess; otherwise I might
have died here without seeing you again.'
"'But you must not die,' said the Princess, weeping; 'can nothing be
done for you?'
"He tried to sit up, and when the Princess had fetched him some water
from one of the numerous springs in the garden, he seemed better. But
his right arm was badly injured.
"'How did it happen?' asked the Princess. 'I thought no mortal weapon
had power to hurt you. That has been my only consolation through these
lonely days of waiting.'
"'You are right,' replied the Prince; 'as a bull nothing can injure me,
but in my own form I am in no way magically preserved. All day long I
have been chased by hunters, who saw in me, I suppose, a valuable prize.
I was terrified of the hour of sunset arriving and finding me far from
home. I used my utmost endeavour to reach this in time, but, alas! I was
overcome with fatigue, from which no spell protects me. At the entrance
to these gardens I saw the sun disappear, and I fell exhausted, just as
an arrow struck my right arm at the moment of my transformation. All I
could do was to crawl in among these bushes, and here I have lain,
thankful to escape from my persecutors, and most thankful to the happy
thought, Princess, which brought you this way.'
"The Princess, her eyes still full of tears, helped him to the palace,
where she bound up his arm and tended him carefully, for, young as she
was, she had learnt many useful acts of this kind in her father's
castle. The wound was not a very serious one; the Prince was suffering
more from exhaustion and fatigue.
"'If I could spend a day or two here in peace,' he said sadly, 'I should
quickly recover. But, alas! that is impossible. I must submit to my
cruel fate. But this night I must confine my wanderings to the forests
in this neighbourhood, where, perhaps, I may be able to hide from the
huntsmen, who, no doubt, will be watching for me.'
"He sighed heavily, and the Princess's heart grew very sad.
"'I have little more than an hour left,' he said.
"'Yes,' said the Princess, 'sleep if you can; I will not disturb you.'
"And when she saw that he had fallen asleep she went into the other
room, where in a corner lay the bull's skin, which the Prince had
dragged behind him from the spot where it had fallen off as the sun
sank.
"The Princess looked at it with a fierce expression, very different to
the usual gentle look in her pretty eyes.
"'Hateful thing!' she said, giving it a kick with her little foot; 'I
wonder how I could get rid of you. Even if the Prince did risk never
seeing me again, I am not sure but that it would be better for him than
to lead this dreadful life.'
"And as her fancy pictured her poor Prince forced in this monstrous
disguise to wander about all night tired and shelterless, her
indignation rose beyond her control. She forgot where she was, she
forgot the magic power that surrounded her, she forgot everything except
her distress and anxiety.
"'Hateful thing!' she repeated, giving the skin another kick; 'I wish
you were burnt to cinders.'
"Hardly had she said the words when a sudden noise like a clap of
thunder shook the air; a flash of lightning seemed to glance past her
and alight on the skin, which in an instant shrivelled up to a cinder
like a burnt glove. Too startled at first to know whether she should
rejoice or not, the Princess gazed at her work in bewilderment, when a
voice of anguish, but, alas! a well-known voice, made her turn round. It
was the Prince, hastening from the palace with an expression half of
anger half of sorrowful reproach on his face.
"'O Princess, Princess,' he cried, 'what have you done? But a little
more patience and all might have been well. And now I know not if I
shall ever see you again.'
"'O Prince, forgive me, I did not mean it,' sobbed the poor Princess. 'I
_will_ see you again, and all shall yet be well.'
"'Seek for me across the hill of ice and the sea of glass,' said the
Prince; but almost before the words had passed his lips a second
thunderclap, louder and more terrific than the first, was heard. The
Princess sank half fainting on the ground. When she again opened her
eyes, Prince, palace, everything had disappeared. She was alone, quite
alone, on a barren moorland, night coming on, and a cold cutting wind
freezing the blood in her veins. And she was clothed in the plain black
dress with which she had made her strange journey riding on the brown
bull.
"It must be a dream, she thought, a terrible dream, and she shut her
eyes again. But no, it was no dream, and soon her courage revived, and
she began to ask herself what she should do.
"'Seek me beyond the hill of ice and the sea of glass,' the Prince had
said; and she rose up to begin her weary journey. As she rose her hand
came in contact with something hard in the folds of her dress; it was
her golden balls. With the greatest delight she took them out of her
pocket and looked at them. They were as bright and beautiful as ever,
and the fairy's prophecy returned to the Princess's mind.
"'With my balls and my ready wit I shall yet conquer the evil powers
that are against my poor Prince,' she said to herself cheerfully.
'Courage! all will be well."
"But there were sore trials to go through in the first place. The
Princess set off on her journey. She had to walk many weary miles across
the moor, the cold wind blowing in her face, the rough ground pricking
her tender feet. But she walked on and on till at last the morning broke
and she saw a road before her, bordered on one side by a forest of
trees, for she had reached the extreme edge of the moor. She had gone
but a little way when she came to a small and miserable hovel, from
which issued feeble sounds of distress. The Princess went up to the door
and looked in--a very old woman sat huddled up in a corner weeping and
lamenting herself.
"'What is the matter, my friend?' asked the Princess.
"'Matter enough,' replied the old woman. 'I cannot light my fire, and I
am bitterly cold. Either the sticks are wet, or the strength has gone
out of my poor old arms.'
"'Let me help you,' said the Princess. 'My arms are strong enough.'
"She took the sticks and arranged them cleverly in the fireplace, and
just as she was choosing two of the driest to rub together to get a
light, one of her balls dropped out of her pocket. It fell on to the
piled-up wood, and immediately a bright flame danced up the chimney. The
Princess picked up her ball and put it back in her pocket, cheered and
encouraged by this proof of their magic power. The old woman came near
to the fire, and stretched out her withered hands to the blaze.
"'What can I do for you, my pretty lady,' she said, 'in return for your
good nature?'
"'Give me a cup of milk to refresh me for my journey,' said the
Princess. 'And perhaps, too, you can tell me something about my journey.
Are the hill of ice and the sea of glass anywhere in this
neighbourhood?'
"The old woman smiled and nodded her head two or three times.
"'Seven days must you travel,' she said, 'before you see them. At the
foot of the hill of ice lies the sea of glass. No mortal foot unaided
has ever crossed the one or ascended the other. Here, take these
shoes--with them you can safely walk over the sea of glass, and with
this staff you can mount the hill of ice,' and as she spoke she handed
to the Princess a pair of curiously carved wooden shoes and a short
sharp-pointed stick. The Princess took them gratefully, and would have
thanked the old woman, whom she now knew to be a fairy, but she stopped
her. "'Think not,' she said, 'that your difficulties will be over when
you have reached the summit of the hill of ice. But all I can do for you
more is to give you this nut, which you must open in your moment of
sorest perplexity.'
"And as the Princess held out her hand for the nut the old woman had
disappeared.
"But refreshed and encouraged the Princess left the cottage, carrying
with her her three gifts, and prepared to face all the perils of her
journey with an undaunted heart.
"It would be impossible to describe all she went through during the
seven days which passed before she reached the sea of glass. She saw
some strange and wonderful sights, for in those days the world was very
different from what it is now. She was often tired and hungry, thankful
for a cup of milk or crust of bread from those she happened to meet on
the way. But her courage never failed her, and at last, on the morning
of the eighth day, she saw shining before her in the sunlight the great
silent sea of glass of which she had been told.
"It would have been hopeless to attempt to cross it without fairy aid,
for it was polished more brightly than any mirror, and so hard that no
young Princess's bones could have borne a fall on its cruel surface. But
with the magic shoes there was less than no difficulty, for no sooner
had the Princess slipped her feet into them than they turned into
skates, and very wonderful skates, for they possessed the power of
enabling their wearer to glide along with the greatest swiftness. The
Princess had never skated in her life, and she was delighted.
"'Next to flying,' she said to herself, 'nothing could be pleasanter,'
and she was almost sorry when her skim across the sea of glass was over,
and she found herself at the foot of the hill of ice.
"She looked upwards with something like despair. It was a terrible
ascent to attempt, for the mountain was all but straight, so steep were
its sides of hard, clear, sparkling ice. The Princess looked at her
feet, the magic shoes had already disappeared; she looked at the staff
she still held in her hand--how could a stick help her up such a
mountain? and half impatiently, half hopelessly, she threw it from her.
Instantly it stretched itself out, growing wider and wider, the notches
in the wood expanding, till it had taken the shape of a roughly-made
ladder of irregular steps, hooked on to the ice by the sharp spike at
its end, and the Princess, ashamed of her discouragement, mounted up the
steps without difficulty, and as she reached the top one, of itself the
ladder pushed up before her, so that she could mount straight up without
hesitation.
"She stepped forward bravely. It took a long time, even though she had
the fairy aid, and by the time she reached the top of the hill night had
fallen, and but for the light of the stars, she would not have known
where to step. A long plain stretched before her--no trees or bushes
even broke the wide expanse. There was no shelter of any kind, and the
Princess found herself obliged to walk on and on, for the wind was very
cold, and she dared not let herself rest. This night and the next day
were the hardest part of all the journey, and seemed even more so,
because the Princess had hoped that the sea of glass and the hill of ice
were to be the worst of her difficulties. More than once she was tempted
to crack the nut, the last of the old woman's presents, but she
refrained, saying to herself she might yet be in greater need, and she
walked on and on, though nearly dead with cold and fatigue, till late in
the afternoon. Then at last, far before her still, she saw gleaming the
lights of a city, and, encouraged by the sight, she gathered her courage
together and pressed on, till, at the door of a little cottage at the
outskirts of the town, she sank down with fatigue. An old woman, with a
kind face, came out of the house and invited her to enter and rest.
"'You look sorely tired, my child,' she said. 'Have you travelled far?'
"'Ah yes!' replied the poor Princess, 'very far. I am nearly dead with
fatigue;' and indeed she looked very miserable. Her beautiful fair hair
was all tumbled and soiled, her poor little feet were scratched and
blistered, her black dress torn and draggled--she looked far more like a
beggar-maiden than like a princess. But yet, her pretty way of speaking
and gentle manners showed she was not what she seemed, and when she had
washed her face and combed her hair, the old woman looked at her with
admiration.
"'Tis a pity you have not a better dress,' she said, 'for then you could
have gone with me to see the rejoicings in the town for the marriage of
our Prince.'
"'Is your Prince to be married to-day?' asked the Princess.
"'No, not to-day--to-morrow,' said the old woman. 'But the strange thing
is that it is not yet known who is to be his bride. The Prince has only
lately returned to his home, for, for many years, he has been shut up by
a fairy spell in a beautiful palace in the north, and now that the spell
is broken and he is restored to his parents, they are anxious to see him
married. But he must still be under a spell of some kind, they say, for
though he has all that heart can wish, he is ever sad and silent, and as
if he were thinking of something far away. And he has said that he will
marry no princess but one who can catch three golden balls at a time, as
if young princesses were brought up to be jugglers! Nevertheless, all
the princesses far and wide have been practising their best at catching
balls, and to-morrow the great feasts are to begin, and she who catches
best is to be chosen out of all the princesses as the bride of our
Prince.'
"The poor Princess listened with a beating heart to the old woman's
talk. There could be no doubt as to who the Prince of this country was.
"'I have come but just in time,' she said to herself, and then she
rose, and thanking her hostess for her kindness, said she must be going.
"'But where are you going, you poor child?' said the old woman. 'You
look far too tired to go farther and for two or three days all these
rejoicings will make the country unpleasant for a young girl to travel
through alone. Stay with me till you are rested.'
"The Princess thanked her with tears in her eyes for her kindness. 'I
have nothing to reward you with,' she said, 'but some day I may be able
to do so' and then she thankfully accepted her offer.
"'And to-morrow,' said the old woman, 'you must smarten yourself up as
well as you can, and then we shall go out to see the gay doings.'
"But the Princess lay awake all night thinking what she should do to
make herself known to her faithful Prince.
"The next day the old woman went out early to hear all about the
festivities. She came back greatly excited.
"'Come quickly,' she said. 'The crowd is so great that no one will
notice your poor clothes. And, indeed, among all the pretty girls there
will be none prettier than you,' she added, looking admiringly at the
Princess, who had arranged her beautiful hair and brushed her soiled
dress, and who looked sweeter than ever now that she was rested and
refreshed. 'There are three princesses who have come to the feast,' she
went on, 'the first from the south, the second from the east, the third
from the west, each more beautiful than another, the people say. The
trial of the golden balls is to be in the great hall of the palace, and
a friend of mine has promised me a place at one of the windows which
overlook it, so that we can see the whole;' and the Princess, feeling as
if she were in a dream, rose up to accompany the old woman, her balls
and her precious nut in her pocket.
"They made their way through the crowd and placed themselves at the
window, as the old woman had said. The Princess looked down at the great
hall below, all magnificently decorated and already filled with
spectators. Suddenly the trumpet sounded, and the Prince in whose honour
was all the rejoicing entered. At sight of him--her own Prince indeed,
but looking so strangely pale and sad that she would hardly have
recognised him--the Princess could not restrain a little cry.
"'What is it?' said the old woman.
"'A passer-by trod on my foot,' said the Princess, fearful of attracting
attention. And the old woman said no more, for at this moment another
blast of trumpets announced the arrival of the princesses, who were to
make the trial of the balls. The first was tall and dark, with raven
tresses and brilliant, flashing eyes. She was dressed in a robe of rich
maize colour, and as she took her place on the dais she looked round
her, as if to say, 'Who can compete with me in beauty or in skill?' And
she was the Princess of the south.
"The second was also tall, and her hair was of a deep rich brown, and
her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks rosy. She was dressed in bright
pink, and laughed as she came forward, as if sure of herself and her
attractions. And she was the Princess of the east.
"The third moved slowly, and as if she cared little what was thought of
her, so confident was she of her pre-eminence. She wore a blue robe, and
her face was pale and her eyes cold, though beautiful. And her hair had
a reddish tinge, but yet she too was beautiful. And she was the Princess
of the west.
"The Prince bowed low to each, but no smile lit up his grave face, and
his glance rested but an instant on each fair Princess as she
approached.
"'Are these ladies all?' he asked, in a low voice, as if expecting yet
more. And when the answer came, 'Yes, these are all,' a still deeper
melancholy settled on his face, and he seemed indifferent to all about
him.
"Then the trial began. The Prince had three golden balls, one of which
he offered to each Princess. They took them, and each threw one back to
him. Then one after another, as quick as lightning, he threw all three
to the yellow Princess. She caught them all and threw them back; again
he returned them, but the first only, reached her hand, the second and
third fell to the ground, and with another low bow the Prince turned
from her, and her proud face grew scarlet with anger. The pink Princess
fared no better. She was laughing so, as if to show her confidence, that
she missed the third ball, even at the first throw, and when the Prince
turned also from her she laughed again, though this time her laughter
was not all mirth. Then the cold blue Princess came forward. She caught
the balls better, but at the third throw, one of them rising higher than
the others, she would not trouble herself to stretch her arm out
farther, so it fell to the ground, and as the Prince turned from her
likewise, a great silence came over the crowd.
"Suddenly a cry arose. 'A fourth Princess,' the people shouted, and the
old woman up at the window was so eager to see the new-comer that she
did not notice that her companion had disappeared. She had watched the
failure of the two first Princesses, then seeing what was coming she had
quietly made her way through the crowd to a hidden corner behind the
great pillars of the hall. There, her hands trembling with eagerness,
she drew forth from the magic nut, which she had cracked with her pretty
teeth, a wonderful fairy robe of spotless white. In an instant her black
dress was thrown to her feet, and the white garment, which fitted her as
if by magic, had taken its place. Never was Princess dressed in such a
hurry, but never was toilette more successful. And as the cry arose of
'A fourth Princess' she made her way up the hall. From one end to the
other she came, rapidly making her way through the crowd, which cleared
before her in surprise and admiration, for as she walked she threw
before her, catching them ever as she went, her golden balls. Her fair
hair floated on her shoulders, her white robe gleamed like snow, her
sweet face, flushed with hope and eagerness, was like that of a happy
child, her eyes saw nothing but the one figure standing at the far end
of the hall, the figure of the Prince, who, as the cry reached his
ears, started forward with a hope he hardly dared encourage, holding out
his hands as she came nearer and yet nearer in joyfulness of welcome.
"But she waved him back--then, taking her place where the other
Princesses had stood, she threw her balls, one, two, three; in an
instant they were caught by the Prince, and returned to her like flashes
of lightning over and over again, never failing, never falling, as if
attached by invisible cords, till at last a great cry arose from the
crowds, and the Prince led forward, full in the view of the people, his
beautiful bride, his true Princess.
"Then all her troubles were forgotten, and every one rejoiced, save
perhaps the three unsuccessful Princesses, who consoled themselves by
saying there was magic in it, and so possibly there was. But there is
more than one kind of magic, and some kinds, it is to be hoped, the
world will never be without. And messengers were sent to summon to the
wedding the father and mother of the Princess, who all this time had
been in doubt and anxiety as to the fate of their dear child. And the
kind old woman who had sheltered her in her poverty and distress was not
forgotten."
The voice stopped--for a minute or two the children sat silent, not
sure if they were to hear anything else. Strangely enough, as the story
went on, it seemed more and more as if it were Marcelline's voice that
was telling it, and at last Hugh looked up to see if it was still the
white lady, whose knee his head was resting on. Jeanne too looked up at
the same moment, and both children gave a little cry of surprise. The
white lady had disappeared, and it was indeed Marcelline who was in her
place. The white room, the white chairs, the white cats, the
spinning-wheel, and the pointed windows, had all gone, and instead there
was old Marcelline with her knitting-needles gently clicking in a
regular way, that somehow to Hugh seemed mixed up with his remembrance
of the soft whirr of the wheel, her neatly frilled cap round her face,
and her bright dark eyes smiling down at the children. Hugh felt so
sorry and disappointed that he shut his eyes tight and tried to go on
dreaming, if indeed dreaming it was. But it was no use. He leant his
face against Marcelline's soft white apron and tried to fancy it the
fairy lady's fairy robe; but it was no use. He had to sit up and look
about him.
"Well," said Marcelline, "and didn't you like the story?"
Hugh looked at Jeanne. It couldn't be a dream then--there _had_ been a
story, for if he had been asleep, of course he couldn't have heard it.
He said nothing, however--he waited to see what Jeanne would say. Jeanne
tossed back her head impatiently.
"Of course I liked it," she said. "It's a beautiful story. But,
Marcelline, how did you turn into yourself--_was_ it you all the time?
Why didn't you leave us with the white lady?"
Hugh was so pleased at what Jeanne said that he didn't mind a bit about
Marcelline having taken the place of the white lady. Jeanne was the same
as he was--that was all he cared about. He jumped up eagerly--they were
in Jeanne's room, close to the fire, and both Jeanne and he had their
little red flannel dressing-gowns on.
"How did these come here?" he said, touching the sleeve of his own one.
"Yes," said Jeanne. "And where are our wings, if you please, Mrs.
Marcelline?"
Marcelline only smiled.
"I went to fetch you," she said, "and of course I didn't want you to
catch cold on the way back."
But that was _all_ they could get her to say, and then she carried them
off to bed, and they both slept soundly till morning.