are now you may hope to accomplish the most difficult tasks; go on your
way and have no fear that you will be troubled any more for lack of
gold, for that little piece which you modestly chose shall never grow
less, use it as much as you will. But that you may see the danger you
have escaped by your moderation, come with me.' So saying she led him
back into the wood by a different path, and he saw that it was full of
men and women; their faces were pale and haggard, and they ran hither
and thither seeking madly upon the ground, or in the air, starting at
every sound, pushing and trampling upon one another in their frantic
eagerness to find the way to the Golden Rock.
'You see how they toil,' said the Fairy; 'but it is all of no avail:
they will end by dying of despair, as hundreds have done before them.'
As soon as they had got back to the place where they had left Mousta the
Fairy disappeared, and the Prince and his faithful Squire, who had
greeted him with every demonstration of joy, took the nearest way to the
city. Here they stayed several days, while the Prince provided himself
with horses and attendants, and made many enquiries about the Princess
Sabella, and the way to her kingdom, which was still so far away that he
could hear but little, and that of the vaguest description, but when he
presently reached Mount Caucasus it was quite a different matter. Here
they seemed to talk of nothing but the Princess Sabella, and strangers
from all parts of the world were travelling towards her father's Court.
The Prince heard plenty of assurances as to her beauty and her riches,
but he also heard of the immense number of his rivals and their power.
One brought an army at his back, another had vast treasures, a third was
as handsome and accomplished as it was possible to be; while, as to poor
Mannikin, he had nothing but his determination to succeed, his faithful
spaniel, and his ridiculous name--which last was hardly likely to help
him, but as he could not alter it he wisely determined not to think of
it any more. After journeying for two whole months they came at last to
Trelintin, the capital of the Princess Sabella's kingdom, and here he
heard dismal stories about the Ice Mountain, and how none of those who
had attempted to climb it had ever come back. He heard also the story of
King Farda-Kinbras, Sabella's father. It appeared that he, being a rich
and powerful monarch, had married a lovely Princess named Birbantine,
and they were as happy as the day was long--so happy that as they were
out sledging one day they were foolish enough to defy fate to spoil
their happiness.
'We shall see about that,' grumbled an old hag who sat by the wayside
blowing her fingers to keep them warm. The King thereupon was very
angry, and wanted to punish the woman; but the Queen prevented him,
saying:
[Illustration: GORGONZOLA FLIES OFF ON HER DRAGON]
'Alas! sire, do not let us make bad worse; no doubt this is a Fairy!'
'You are right there,' said the old woman, and immediately she stood up,
and as they gazed at her in horror she grew gigantic and terrible, her
staff turned to a fiery dragon with outstretched wings, her ragged cloak
to a golden mantle, and her wooden shoes to two bundles of rockets. 'You
are right there, and you will see what will come of your fine goings on,
and remember the Fairy Gorgonzola!' So saying she mounted the dragon and
flew off, the rockets shooting in all directions and leaving long trails
of sparks.
In vain did Farda-Kinbras and Birbantine beg her to return, and
endeavour by their humble apologies to pacify her; she never so much as
looked at them, and was very soon out of sight, leaving them a prey to
all kinds of dismal forebodings. Very soon after this the Queen had a
little daughter, who was the most beautiful creature ever seen; all the
Fairies of the North were invited to her christening, and warned against
the malicious Gorgonzola. She also was invited, but she neither came to
the banquet nor received her present; but as soon as all the others were
seated at table, after bestowing their gifts upon the little Princess,
she stole into the Palace, disguised as a black cat, and hid herself
under the cradle until the nurses and the cradle-rockers had all turned
their backs, and then she sprang out, and in an instant had stolen the
little Princess's heart and made her escape, only being chased by a few
dogs and scullions on her way across the courtyard. Once outside she
mounted her chariot and flew straight away to the North Pole, where she
shut up her stolen treasure on the summit of the Ice Mountain, and
surrounded it with so many difficulties that she felt quite easy about
its remaining there as long as the Princess lived, and then she went
home, chuckling at her success. As to the other Fairies, they went home
after the banquet without discovering that anything was amiss, and so
the King and Queen were quite happy. Sabella grew prettier day by day.
She learnt everything a Princess ought to know without the slightest
trouble, and yet something always seemed lacking to make her perfectly
charming. She had an exquisite voice, but whether her songs were grave
or gay it did not matter, she did not seem to know what they meant; and
everyone who heard her said:
'She certainly sings perfectly; but there is no tenderness, no heart in
her voice.' Poor Sabella! how could there be when her heart was far away
on the Ice Mountains? And it was just the same with all the other things
that she did. As time went on, in spite of the admiration of the whole
Court and the blind fondness of the King and Queen, it became more and
more evident that something was fatally wrong: for those who love no one
cannot long be loved; and at last the King called a general assembly,
and invited the Fairies to attend, that they might, if possible, find
out what was the matter. After explaining their grief as well as he
could, he ended by begging them to see the Princess for themselves. 'It
is certain,' said he, 'that something is wrong--_what_ it is I don't
know how to tell you, but in some way your work is imperfect.'
They all assured him that, so far as they knew, everything had been done
for the Princess, and they had forgotten nothing that they could bestow
on so good a neighbour as the King had been to them. After this they
went to see Sabella; but they had no sooner entered her presence than
they cried out with one accord:
'Oh! horror!--she has no heart!'
On hearing this frightful announcement, the King and Queen gave a cry of
despair, and entreated the Fairies to find some remedy for such an
unheard-of misfortune. Thereupon the eldest Fairy consulted her Book of
Magic, which she always carried about with her, hung to her girdle by a
thick silver chain, and there she found out at once that it was
Gorgonzola who had stolen the Princess's heart, and also discovered what
the wicked old Fairy had done with it.
'What shall we do? What shall we do?' cried the King and Queen in one
breath.
'You must certainly suffer much annoyance from seeing and loving
Sabella, who is nothing but a beautiful image,' replied the Fairy, 'and
this must go on for a long time; but I think I see that, in the end, she
will once more regain her heart. My advice is that you shall at once
cause her portrait to be sent all over the world, and promise her hand
and all her possessions to the Prince who is successful in reaching her
heart. Her beauty alone is sufficient to engage all the Princes of the
world in the quest.'
This was accordingly done, and Prince Mannikin heard that already five
hundred Princes had perished in the snow and ice, not to mention their
squires and pages, and that more continued to arrive daily, eager to try
their fortune. After some consideration he determined to present himself
at Court; but his arrival made no stir, as his retinue was as
inconsiderable as his stature, and the splendour of his rivals was great
enough to throw even Farda-Kinbras himself into the shade. However, he
paid his respects to the King very gracefully, and asked permission to
kiss the hand of the Princess in the usual manner; but when he said he
was called 'Mannikin,' the King could hardly repress a smile, and the
Princes who stood by openly shouted with laughter.
[Illustration]
Turning to the King, Prince Mannikin said with great dignity:
'Pray laugh if it pleases your Majesty, I am glad that it is in my power
to afford you any amusement; but I am not a plaything for these
gentlemen, and I must beg them to dismiss any ideas of that kind from
their minds at once,' and with that he turned upon the one who had
laughed the loudest and proudly challenged him to a single combat. This
Prince, who was called Fadasse, accepted the challenge very scornfully,
mocking at Mannikin, whom he felt sure had no chance against himself;
but the meeting was arranged for the next day. When Prince Mannikin
quitted the King's presence he was conducted to the audience hall of the
Princess Sabella. The sight of so much beauty and magnificence almost
took his breath away for an instant, but, recovering himself with an
effort, he said:
'Lovely Princess, irresistibly drawn by the beauty of your portrait, I
come from the other end of the world to offer my services to you. My
devotion knows no bounds, but my absurd name has already involved me in
a quarrel with one of your courtiers. To-morrow I am to fight this ugly,
overgrown Prince, and I beg you to honour the combat with your presence,
and prove to the world that there is nothing in a name, and that you
deign to accept Mannikin as your knight.'
When it came to this the Princess could not help being amused, for,
though she had no heart, she was not without humour. However, she
answered graciously that she accepted with pleasure, which encouraged
the Prince to entreat further that she would not show any favour to his
adversary.
'Alas!' said she, 'I favour none of these foolish people, who weary me
with their sentiment and their folly. I do very well as I am, and yet
from one year's end to another they talk of nothing but delivering me
from some imaginary affliction. Not a word do I understand of all their
pratings about love, and who knows what dull things besides, which, I
declare to you, I cannot even remember.'
Mannikin was quick enough to gather from this speech that to amuse and
interest the Princess would be a far surer way of gaining her favour
than to add himself to the list of those who continually teased her
about that mysterious thing called 'love' which she was so incapable of
comprehending. So he began to talk of his rivals, and found in each of
them something to make merry over, in which diversion the Princess
joined him heartily, and so well did he succeed in his attempt to amuse
her that before very long she declared that of all the people at Court
he was the one to whom she preferred to talk.
[Illustration]
The following day, at the time appointed for the combat, when the King,
the Queen, and the Princess had taken their places, and the whole Court
and the whole town were assembled to see the show, Prince Fadasse rode
into the lists magnificently armed and accoutred, followed by
twenty-four squires and a hundred men-at-arms, each one leading a
splendid horse, while Prince Mannikin entered from the other side armed
only with his spear and followed by the faithful Mousta. The contrast
between the two champions was so great that there was a shout of
laughter from the whole assembly; but when at the sounding of a trumpet
the combatants rushed upon each other, and Mannikin, eluding the blow
aimed at him, succeeded in thrusting Prince Fadasse from his horse and
pinning him to the sand with his spear, it changed to a murmur of
admiration.
So soon as he had him at his mercy, however, Mannikin, turning to the
Princess, assured her that he had no desire to kill anyone who called
himself her courtier, and then he bade the furious and humiliated
Fadasse rise and thank the Princess to whom he owed his life. Then, amid
the sounding of the trumpets and the shoutings of the people, he and
Mousta retired gravely from the lists.
The King soon sent for him to congratulate him upon his success, and to
offer him a lodging in the Palace, which he joyfully accepted. While the
Princess expressed a wish to have Mousta brought to her, and, when the
Prince sent for him, she was so delighted with his courtly manners and
his marvellous intelligence that she entreated Mannikin to give him to
her for her own. The Prince consented with alacrity, not only out of
politeness, but because he foresaw that to have a faithful friend always
near the Princess might some day be of great service to him. All these
events made Prince Mannikin a person of much more consequence at the
Court. Very soon after, there arrived upon the frontier the Ambassador
of a very powerful King, who sent to Farda-Kinbras the following letter,
at the same time demanding permission to enter the capital in state to
receive the answer:
'I, Brandatimor, to Farda-Kinbras send greeting. If I had before this
time seen the portrait of your beautiful daughter Sabella I should not
have permitted all these adventurers and petty Princes to be dancing
attendance and getting themselves frozen with the absurd idea of
meriting her hand. For myself I am not afraid of any rivals, and, now I
have declared my intention of marrying your daughter, no doubt they will
at once withdraw their pretensions. My Ambassador has orders, therefore,
to make arrangements for the Princess to come and be married to me
without delay--for I attach no importance at all to the farrago of
nonsense which you have caused to be published all over the world about
this Ice Mountain. If the Princess really has no heart, be assured that
I shall not concern myself about it, since, if anybody can help her to
discover one, it is myself. My worthy father-in-law, farewell!'
The reading of this letter embarrassed and displeased Farda-Kinbras and
Birbantine immensely, while the Princess was furious at the insolence of
the demand. They all three resolved that its contents must be kept a
profound secret until they could decide what reply should be sent, but
Mousta contrived to send word of all that had passed to Prince Mannikin.
He was naturally alarmed and indignant, and, after thinking it over a
little, he begged an audience of the Princess, and led the conversation
so cunningly up to the subject that was uppermost in her thoughts, as
well as his own, that she presently told him all about the matter and
asked his advice as to what it would be best to do. This was exactly
what he had not been able to decide for himself; however, he replied
that he should advise her to gain a little time by promising her answer
after the grand entry of the Ambassador, and this was accordingly done.
The Ambassador did not at all like being put off after that fashion, but
he was obliged to be content, and only said very arrogantly that so soon
as his equipages arrived, as he expected they would do very shortly, he
would give all the people of the city, and the stranger Princes with
whom it was inundated, an idea of the power and the magnificence of his
master. Mannikin, in despair, resolved that he would for once beg the
assistance of the kind Fairy Genesta. He often thought of her and always
with gratitude, but from the moment of his setting out he had determined
to seek her aid only on the greatest occasions. That very night, when he
had fallen asleep quite worn out with thinking over all the difficulties
of the situation, he dreamed that the Fairy stood beside him, and said:
'Mannikin, you have done very well so far; continue to please me and you
shall always find good friends when you need them most. As for this
affair with the Ambassador, you can assure Sabella that she may look
forward tranquilly to his triumphal entry, since it will all turn out
well for her in the end.'
The Prince tried to throw himself at her feet to thank her, but woke to
find it was all a dream; nevertheless he took fresh courage, and went
next day to see the Princess, to whom he gave many mysterious assurances
that all would yet be well. He even went so far as to ask her if she
would not be very grateful to anyone who would rid her of the insolent
Brandatimor. To which she replied that her gratitude would know no
bounds. Then he wanted to know what would be her best wish for the
person who was lucky enough to accomplish it. To which she said that she
would wish them to be as insensible to the folly called 'love' as she
was herself!
This was indeed a crushing speech to make to such a devoted lover as
Prince Mannikin, but he concealed the pain it caused him with great
courage.
And now the Ambassador sent to say that on the very next day he would
come in state to receive his answer, and from the earliest dawn the
inhabitants were astir, to secure the best places for the grand sight;
but the good Fairy Genesta was providing them an amount of amusement
they were far from expecting, for she so enchanted the eyes of all the
spectators that when the Ambassador's gorgeous procession appeared, the
splendid uniforms seemed to them miserable rags that a beggar would
have been ashamed to wear, the prancing horses appeared as wretched
skeletons hardly able to drag one leg after the other, while their
trappings, which really sparkled with gold and jewels, looked like old
sheepskins that would not have been good enough for a plough horse. The
pages resembled the ugliest sweeps. The trumpets gave no more sound than
whistles made of onion-stalks, or combs wrapped in paper; while the
train of fifty carriages looked no better than fifty donkey carts. In
the last of these sat the Ambassador with the haughty and scornful air
which he considered becoming in the representative of so powerful a
monarch: for this was the crowning point of the absurdity of the whole
procession, that all who took part in it wore the expression of vanity
and self-satisfaction and pride in their own appearance and all their
surroundings which they believed their splendour amply justified.
[Illustration]
The laughter and howls of derision from the whole crowd rose ever louder
and louder as the extraordinary cortege advanced, and at last reached
the ears of the King as he waited in the audience hall, and before the
procession reached the palace he had been informed of its nature, and,
supposing that it must be intended as an insult, he ordered the gates
to be closed. You may imagine the fury of the Ambassador when, after all
his pomp and pride, the King absolutely and unaccountably refused to
receive him. He raved wildly both against King and people, and the
cortege retired in great confusion, jeered at and pelted with stones and
mud by the enraged crowd. It is needless to say that he left the country
as fast as horses could carry him, but not before he had declared war,
with the most terrible menaces, threatening to devastate the country
with fire and sword.
Some days after this disastrous embassy King Bayard sent couriers to
Prince Mannikin with a most friendly letter, offering his services in
any difficulty, and enquiring with the deepest interest how he fared.
Mannikin at once replied, relating all that had happened since they
parted, not forgetting to mention the event which had just involved
Farda-Kinbras and Brandatimor in this deadly quarrel, and he ended by
entreating his faithful friend to despatch a few thousands of his
veteran spaniels to his assistance.
Neither the King, the Queen, nor the Princess could in the least
understand the amazing conduct of Brandatimor's Ambassador; nevertheless
the preparations for the war went forward briskly and all the Princes
who had not gone on towards the Ice Mountain offered their services, at
the same time demanding all the best appointments in the King's army.
Mannikin was one of the first to volunteer, but he only asked to go as
aide-de-camp to the Commander-in-chief, who was a gallant soldier and
celebrated for his victories. As soon as the army could be got together
it was marched to the frontier, where it met the opposing force headed
by Brandatimor himself, who was fall of fury, determined to avenge the
insult to his Ambassador and to possess himself of the Princess Sabella.
All the army of Farda-Kinbras could do, being so heavily outnumbered,
was to act upon the defensive, and before long Mannikin won the esteem
of the officers for his ability, and of the soldiers for his courage,
and care for their welfare, and in all the skirmishes which he conducted
he had the good fortune to vanquish the enemy.
At last Brandatimor engaged the whole army in a terrific conflict, and
though the troops of Farda-Kinbras fought with desperate courage, their
general was killed, and they were defeated and forced to retreat with
immense loss. Mannikin did wonders, and half-a-dozen times turned the
retreating forces and beat back the enemy; and he afterwards collected
troops enough to keep them in check until, the severe winter setting in,
put an end to hostilities for a while.
He then returned to the Court, where consternation reigned. The King was
in despair at the death of his trusty general, and ended by imploring
Mannikin to take the command of the army, and his counsel was followed
in all the affairs of the Court. He followed up his former plan of
amusing the Princess, and on no account reminding her of that tedious
thing called 'love,' so that she was always glad to see him, and the
winter slipped by gaily for both of them.
The Prince was all the while secretly making plans for the next
campaign; he received private intelligence of the arrival of a strong
reinforcement of Spaniels, to whom he sent orders to post themselves
along the frontier without attracting attention, and as soon as he
possibly could he held a consultation with their Commander, who was an
old and experienced warrior. Following his advice, he decided to have a
pitched battle as soon as the enemy advanced, and this Brandatimor lost
not a moment in doing, as he was perfectly persuaded that he was now
going to make an end of the war and utterly vanquish Farda-Kinbras. But
no sooner had he given the order to charge than the Spaniels, who had
mingled with his troops unperceived, leaped each upon the horse nearest
to him, and not only threw the whole squadron into confusion by the
terror they caused, but, springing at the throats of the riders,
unhorsed many of them by the suddenness of their attack; then turning
the horses to the rear, they spread consternation everywhere, and made
it easy for Prince Mannikin to gain a complete victory. He met
Brandatimor in single combat, and succeeded in taking him prisoner; but
he did not live to reach the Court, to which Mannikin had sent him: his
pride killed him at the thought of appearing before Sabella under these
altered circumstances. In the meantime Prince Fadasse and all the others
who had remained behind were setting out with all speed for the conquest
of the Ice Mountain, being afraid that Prince Mannikin might prove as
successful in that as he seemed to be in everything else, and when
Mannikin returned he heard of it with great annoyance. True he had been
serving the Princess, but she only admired and praised him for his
gallant deeds, and seemed no whit nearer bestowing on him the love he so
ardently desired, and all the comfort Mousta could give him on the
subject was that at least she loved no one else, and with that he had
to content himself. But he determined that, come what might, he would
delay no longer, but attempt the great undertaking for which he had come
so far. When he went to take leave of the King and Queen they entreated
him not to go, as they had just heard that Prince Fadasse, and all who
accompanied him, had perished in the snow; but he persisted in his
resolve. As for Sabella, she gave him her hand to kiss with precisely
the same gracious indifference as she had given it to him the first time
they met. It happened that this farewell took place before the whole
Court, and so great a favourite had Prince Mannikin become that they
were all indignant at the coldness with which the Princess treated him.
[Illustration]
Finally the King said to him:
'Prince, you have constantly refused all the gifts which, in my
gratitude for your invaluable services, I have offered to you, but I
wish the Princess to present you with her cloak of marten's fur, and
_that_ I hope you will not reject!' Now this was a splendid fur mantle
which the Princess was very fond of wearing, not so much because she
felt cold, as that its richness set off to perfection the delicate tints
of her complexion and the brilliant gold of her hair. However, she took
it off, and with graceful politeness begged Prince Mannikin to accept
it, which you may be sure he was charmed to do, and, taking only this
and a little bundle of all kinds of wood, and accompanied only by two
spaniels out of the fifty who had stayed with him when the war was
ended, he set forth, receiving many tokens of love and favour from the
people in every town he passed through. At the last little village he
left his horse behind him, to begin his toilful march through the snow,
which extended, blank and terrible, in every direction as far as the eye
could see. Here he had appointed to meet the other forty-eight spaniels,
who received him joyfully, and assured him that, happen what might, they
would follow and serve him faithfully. And so they started, full of
heart and hope. At first there was a slight track, difficult, but not
impossible to follow; but this was soon lost, and the Pole Star was
their only guide. When the time came to call a halt, the Prince, who had
after much consideration decided on his plan of action, caused a few
twigs from the faggot he had brought with him to be planted in the snow,
and then he sprinkled over them a pinch of the magic powder he had
collected from the enchanted boat. To his great joy they instantly began
to sprout and grow, and in a marvellously short time the camp was
surrounded by a perfect grove of trees of all sorts, which blossomed and
bore ripe fruit, so that all their wants were easily supplied, and they
were able to make huge fires to warm themselves. The Prince then sent
out several spaniels to reconnoitre, and they had the good luck to
discover a horse laden with provisions stuck fast in the snow. They at
once fetched their comrades, and brought the spoil triumphantly into the
camp, and, as it consisted principally of biscuits, not a spaniel among
them went supperless to sleep. In this way they journeyed by day and
encamped safely at night, always remembering to take on a few branches
to provide them with food and shelter. They passed by the way armies of
those who had set out upon the perilous enterprise, who stood frozen
stiffly, without sense or motion; but Prince Mannikin strictly forbade
that any attempt should be made to thaw them. So they went on and on for
more than three months, and day by day the Ice Mountain, which they had
seen for a long time, grew clearer, until at last they stood close to
it, and shuddered at its height and steepness. But by patience and
perseverance they crept up foot by foot, aided by their fires of magic
wood, without which they must have perished in the intense cold, until
presently they stood at the gates of the magnificent Ice Palace which
crowned the mountain, where, in deadly silence and icy sleep, lay the
heart of Sabella. Now the difficulty became immense, for if they
maintained enough heat to keep themselves alive they were in danger
every moment of melting the blocks of solid ice of which the palace was
entirely built, and bringing the whole structure down upon their heads;
but cautiously and quickly they traversed courtyards and halls, until
they found themselves at the foot of a vast throne, where, upon a
cushion of snow, lay an enormous and brilliantly sparkling diamond,
which contained the heart of the lovely Princess Sabella. Upon the
lowest step of the throne was inscribed in icy letters, 'Whosoever thou
art who by courage and virtue canst win the heart of Sabella enjoy
peacefully the good fortune which thou hast richly deserved.'
[Illustration]
Prince Mannikin bounded forward, and had just strength left to grasp the
precious diamond which contained all he coveted in the world before he
fell insensible upon the snowy cushion. But his good spaniels lost no
time in rushing to the rescue, and between them they bore him hastily
from the hall, and not a moment too soon, for all around them they heard
the clang of the falling blocks of ice as the Fairy Palace slowly
collapsed under the unwonted heat. Not until they reached the foot of
the mountain did they pause to restore the Prince to consciousness, and
then his joy to find himself the possessor of Sabella's heart knew no
bounds.
With all speed they began to retrace their steps, but this time the
happy Prince could not bear the sight of his defeated and disappointed
rivals, whose frozen forms lined his triumphant way. He gave orders to
his spaniels to spare no pains to restore them to life, and so
successful were they that day by day his train increased, so that by the
time he got back to the little village where he had left his horse he
was escorted by five hundred sovereign Princes, and knights and squires
without number, and he was so courteous and unassuming that they all
followed him willingly, anxious to do him honour. But then he was so
happy and blissful himself that he found it easy to be at peace with all
the world. It was not long before he met the faithful Mousta, who was
coming at the top of his speed hoping to meet the Prince, that he might
tell him of the sudden and wonderful change that had come over the
Princess, who had become gentle and thoughtful and had talked to him of
nothing but Prince Mannikin, of the hardships she feared he might be
suffering, and of her anxiety for him, and all this with a hundred
tender expressions which put the finishing stroke to the Prince's
delight. Then came a courier bearing the congratulations of the King and
Queen, who had just heard of his successful return, and there was even a
graceful compliment from Sabella herself. The Prince sent Mousta back to
her, and he was welcomed with joy, for was he not her lover's present?
At last the travellers reached the capital, and were received with regal
magnificence. Farda-Kinbras and Birbantine embraced Prince Mannikin,
declaring that they regarded him as their heir and the future husband of
the Princess, to which he replied that they did him too much honour. And
then he was admitted into the presence of the Princess, who for the
first time in her life blushed as he kissed her hand, and could not find
a word to say. But the Prince, throwing himself on his knees beside her,
held out the splendid diamond, saying:
'Madam, this treasure is yours, since none of the dangers and
difficulties I have gone through have been sufficient to make me deserve
it.'
'Ah! Prince,' said she, 'if I take it, it is only that I may give it
back to you, since truly it belongs to you already.'
At this moment in came the King and Queen, and interrupted them by
asking all the questions imaginable, and not infrequently the same over
and over again. It seems that there is always one thing that is sure to
be said about an event by everybody, and Prince Mannikin found that the
question which he was asked by more than a thousand people on this
particular occasion was:
'And didn't you find it very cold?'
The King had come to request Prince Mannikin and the Princess to follow
him to the Council Chamber, which they did, not knowing that he meant to
present the Prince to all the nobles assembled there as his son-in-law
and successor. But when Mannikin perceived his intention, he begged
permission to speak first, and told his whole story, even to the fact
that he believed himself to be a peasant's son. Scarcely had he finished
speaking when the sky grew black, the thunder growled, and the lightning
flashed, and in the blaze of light the good Fairy Genesta suddenly
appeared. Turning to Prince Mannikin, she said:
'I am satisfied with you, since you have shown not only courage but a
good heart.' Then she addressed King Farda-Kinbras, and informed him of
the real history of the Prince, and how she had determined to give him
the education she knew would be best for a man who was to command
others. 'You have already found the advantage of having a faithful
friend,' she added to the Prince, 'and now you will have the pleasure of
seeing King Bayard and his subjects regain their natural forms as a
reward for his kindness to you.'
Just then arrived a chariot drawn by eagles, which proved to contain the
foolish King and Queen, who embraced their long-lost son with great joy,
and were greatly struck with the fact that they did indeed find him
covered with fur! While they were caressing Sabella and wringing her
hands (which is a favourite form of endearment with foolish people)
chariots were seen approaching from all points of the compass,
containing numbers of Fairies.
'Sire,' said Genesta to Farda-Kinbras, 'I have taken the liberty of
appointing your Court as a meeting-place for all the Fairies who could
spare the time to come; and I hope you can arrange to hold the great
ball, which we have once in a hundred years, on this occasion.'
The King having suitably acknowledged the honour done him, was next
reconciled to Gorgonzola, and they two presently opened the ball
together. The Fairy Marsontine restored their natural forms to King
Bayard and all his subjects, and he appeared once more as handsome a
king as you could wish to see. One of the Fairies immediately despatched
her chariot for the Queen of the Spice Islands, and their wedding took
place at the same time as that of Prince Mannikin and the lovely and
gracious Sabella. They lived happily ever afterwards, and their vast
kingdoms were presently divided between their children.
The Prince, out of grateful remembrance of the Princess Sabella's first
gift to him, bestowed the right of bearing her name upon the most
beautiful of the martens, and that is why they are called _sables_ to
this day.
Comte de Caylus.
_THE ENCHANTED RING_
Once upon a time there lived a young man named Rosimond, who was as good
and handsome as his elder brother Bramintho was ugly and wicked. Their
mother detested her eldest son, and had only eyes for the youngest. This
excited Bramintho's jealousy, and he invented a horrible story in order
to ruin his brother. He told his father that Rosimond was in the habit
of visiting a neighbour who was an enemy of the family, and betraying to
him all that went on in the house, and was plotting with him to poison
their father.
The father flew into a rage, and flogged his son till the blood came.
Then he threw him into prison and kept him for three days without food,
and after that he turned him out of the house, and threatened to kill
him if he ever came back. The mother was miserable, and did nothing but
weep, but she dared not say anything.
The youth left his home with tears in his eyes, not knowing where to go,
and wandered about for many hours till he came to a thick wood. Night
overtook him at the foot of a great rock, and he fell asleep on a bank
of moss, lulled by the music of a little brook.
It was dawn when he woke, and he saw before him a beautiful woman seated
on a grey horse, with trappings of gold, who looked as if she were
preparing for the hunt.
'Have you seen a stag and some deerhounds go by?' she asked.
'No, madam,' he replied.
Then she added, 'You look unhappy; is there anything the matter? Take
this ring, which will make you the happiest and most powerful of men,
provided you never make a bad use of it. If you turn the diamond inside,
you will become invisible. If you turn it outside, you will become
visible again. If you place it on your little finger, you will take the
shape of the King's son, followed by a splendid court. If you put it on
your fourth finger, you will take your own shape.'
Then the young man understood that it was a Fairy who was speaking to
him, and when she had finished she plunged into the woods. The youth was
very impatient to try the ring, and returned home immediately. He found
that the Fairy had spoken the truth, and that he could see and hear
everything, while he himself was unseen. It lay with him to revenge
himself, if he chose, on his brother, without the slightest danger to
himself, and he told no one but his mother of all the strange things
that had befallen him. He afterwards put the enchanted ring on his
little finger, and appeared as the King's son, followed by a hundred
fine horses, and a guard of officers all richly dressed.
[Illustration]
His father was much surprised to see the King's son in his quiet little
house, and he felt rather embarrassed, not knowing what was the proper
way to behave on such a grand occasion. Then Rosimond asked him how many
sons he had.
'Two,' replied he.
'I wish to see them,' said Rosimond. 'Send for them at once. I desire to
take them both to Court, in order to make their fortunes.'
The father hesitated, then answered: 'Here is the eldest, whom I have
the honour to present to your Highness.'
'But where is the youngest? I wish to see him too,' persisted Rosimond.
'He is not here,' said the father. 'I had to punish him for a fault, and
he has run away.'
Then Rosimond replied, 'You should have shown him what was right, but
not have punished him. However, let the elder come with me, and as for
you, follow these two guards, who will escort you to a place that I will
point out to them.'
Then the two guards led off the father, and the Fairy of whom you have
heard found him in the forest, and beat him with a golden birch rod, and
cast him into a cave that was very deep and dark, where he lay
enchanted. 'Lie there,' she said, 'till your son comes to take you out
again.'
Meanwhile the son went to the King's palace, and arrived just when the
real prince was absent. He had sailed away to make war on a distant
island, but the winds had been contrary, and he had been shipwrecked on
unknown shores, and taken captive by a savage people. Rosimond made his
appearance at Court in the character of the Prince, whom everyone wept
for as lost, and told them that he had been rescued when at the point of
death by some merchants. His return was the signal for great public
rejoicings, and the King was so overcome that he became quite
speechless, and did nothing but embrace his son. The Queen was even more
delighted, and fetes were ordered over the whole kingdom.
One day the false Prince said to his real brother, 'Bramintho, you know
that I brought you here from your native village in order to make your
fortune; but I have found out that you are a liar, and that by your
deceit you have been the cause of all the troubles of your brother
Rosimond. He is in hiding here, and I desire that you shall speak to
him, and listen to his reproaches.'
Bramintho trembled at these words, and, flinging himself at the Prince's
feet, confessed his crime.
'That is not enough,' said Rosimond. 'It is to your brother that you
must confess, and I desire that you shall ask his forgiveness. He will
be very generous if he grants it, and it will be more than you deserve.
He is in my ante-room, where you shall see him at once. I myself will
retire into another apartment, so as to leave you alone with him.'
Bramintho entered, as he was told, into the ante-room. Then Rosimond
changed the ring, and passed into the room by another door.
Bramintho was filled with shame as soon as he saw his brother's face. He
implored his pardon, and promised to atone for all his faults. Rosimond
embraced him with tears, and at once forgave him, adding, 'I am in great
favour with the King. It rests with me to have your head cut off, or to
condemn you to pass the remainder of your life in prison; but I desire
to be as good to you as you have been wicked to me.' Bramintho, confused
and ashamed, listened to his words without daring to lift his eyes or to
remind Rosimond that he was his brother. After this, Rosimond gave out
that he was going to make a secret voyage, to marry a Princess who lived
in a neighbouring kingdom; but in reality he only went to see his
mother, whom he told all that had happened at the Court, giving her at
the same time some money that she needed, for the King allowed him to
take exactly what he liked, though he was always careful not to abuse
this permission. Just then a furious war broke out between the King his
master and the Sovereign of the adjoining country, who was a bad man and
one that never kept his word. Rosimond went straight to the palace of
the wicked King, and by means of his ring was able to be present at all
the councils, and learnt all their schemes, so that he was able to
forestall them and bring them to naught. He took the command of the army
which was brought against the wicked King, and defeated him in a
glorious battle, so that peace was at once concluded on conditions that
were just to everyone.
Henceforth the King's one idea was to marry the young man to a Princess
who was the heiress to a neighbouring kingdom, and, besides that, was as
lovely as the day. But one morning, while Rosimond was hunting in the
forest where for the first time he had seen the Fairy, his benefactress
suddenly appeared before him. 'Take heed,' she said to him in severe
tones, 'that you do not marry anybody who believes you to be a Prince.
You must never deceive anyone. The real Prince, whom the whole nation
thinks you are, will have to succeed his father, for that is just and
right. Go and seek him in some distant island, and I will send winds
that will swell your sails and bring you to him. Hasten to render this
service to your master, although it is against your own ambition, and
prepare, like an honest man, to return to your natural state. If you do
not do this, you will become wicked and unhappy, and I will abandon you
to all your former troubles.'
Rosimond took these wise counsels to heart. He gave out that he had
undertaken a secret mission to a neighbouring state, and embarked on
board a vessel, the winds carrying him straight to the island where the
Fairy had told him he would find the real Prince. This unfortunate youth
had been taken captive by a savage people, who had kept him to guard
their sheep. Rosimond, becoming invisible, went to seek him amongst the
pastures, where he kept his flock, and, covering him with his mantle, he
delivered him out of the hands of his cruel masters, and bore him back
to the ship. Other winds sent by the Fairy swelled the sails, and
together the two young men entered the King's presence.
Rosimond spoke first and said, 'You have believed me to be your son. I
am not he, but I have brought him back to you.' The King, filled with
astonishment, turned to his real son and asked, 'Was it not you, my son,
who conquered my enemies and won such a glorious peace? Or is it true
that you have been shipwrecked and taken captive, and that Rosimond has
set you free?'
'Yes, my father,' replied the Prince. 'It is he who sought me out in my
captivity and set me free, and to him I owe the happiness of seeing you
once more. It was he, not I, who gained the victory.'
The King could hardly believe his ears; but Rosimond, turning the ring,
appeared before him in the likeness of the Prince, and the King gazed
distractedly at the two youths who seemed both to be his son. Then he
offered Rosimond immense rewards for his services, which were refused,
and the only favour the young man would accept was that one of his posts
at Court should be conferred on his brother Bramintho. For he feared for
himself the changes of fortune, the envy of mankind and his own
weakness. His desire was to go back to his mother and his native
village, and to spend his time in cultivating the land.
One day, when he was wandering through the woods, he met the Fairy, who
showed him the cavern where his father was imprisoned, and told him what
words he must use in order to set him free. He repeated them joyfully,
for he had always longed to bring the old man back and to make his last
days happy. Rosimond thus became the benefactor of all his family, and
had the pleasure of doing good to those who had wished to do him evil.
As for the Court, to whom he had rendered such services, all he asked
was the freedom to live far from its corruption; and, to crown all,
fearing that if he kept the ring he might be tempted to use it in order
to regain his lost place in the world, he made up his mind to restore it
to the Fairy. For many days he sought her up and down the woods and at
last he found her. 'I want to give you back,' he said, holding out the
ring, 'a gift as dangerous as it is powerful, and which I fear to use
wrongfully. I shall never feel safe till I have made it impossible for
me to leave my solitude and to satisfy my passions.'
While Rosimond was seeking to give back the ring to the Fairy,
Bramintho, who had failed to learn any lessons from experience, gave way
to all his desires, and tried to persuade the Prince, lately become
King, to ill-treat Rosimond. But the Fairy, who knew all about
everything, said to Rosimond, when he was imploring her to accept the
ring:
'Your wicked brother is doing his best to poison the mind of the King
towards you, and to ruin you. He deserves to be punished, and he must
die; and in order that he may destroy himself, I shall give the ring to
him.'
Rosimond wept at these words, and then asked:
'What do you mean by giving him the ring as a punishment? He will only
use it to persecute everyone, and to become master.'
'The same things,' answered the Fairy, 'are often a healing medicine to
one person and a deadly poison to another. Prosperity is the source of
all evil to a naturally wicked man. If you wish to punish a scoundrel,
the first thing to do is to give him power. You will see that with this
rope he will soon hang himself.'
Having said this, she disappeared, and went straight to the Palace,
where she showed herself to Bramintho under the disguise of an old woman
covered with rags. She at once addressed him in these words:
'I have taken this ring from the hands of your brother, to whom I had
lent it, and by its help he covered himself with glory. I now give it to
you, and be careful what you do with it.'
Bramintho replied with a laugh:
'I shall certainly not imitate my brother, who was foolish enough to
bring back the Prince instead of reigning in his place,' and he was as
good as his word. The only use he made of the ring was to find out
family secrets and betray them, to commit murders and every sort of
wickedness, and to gain wealth for himself unlawfully. All these
crimes, which could be traced to nobody, filled the people with
astonishment. The King, seeing so many affairs, public and private,
exposed, was at first as puzzled as anyone, till Bramintho's wonderful
prosperity and amazing insolence made him suspect that the enchanted
ring had become his property. In order to find out the truth he bribed a
stranger just arrived at Court, one of a nation with whom the King was
always at war, and arranged that he was to steal in the night to
Bramintho and to offer him untold honours and rewards if he would betray
the State secrets.
[Illustration: THE ENCHANTED RING]
Bramintho promised everything, and accepted at once the first payment of
his crime, boasting that he had a ring which rendered him invisible, and
that by means of it he could penetrate into the most private places. But
his triumph was short. Next day he was seized by order of the King, and
his ring was taken from him. He was searched, and on him were found
papers which proved his crimes; and, though Rosimond himself came back
to the Court to entreat his pardon, it was refused. So Bramintho was put
to death, and the ring had been even more fatal to him than it had been
useful in the hands of his brother.
To console Rosimond for the fate of Bramintho, the King gave him back
the enchanted ring, as a pearl without price. The unhappy Rosimond did
not look upon it in the same light, and the first thing he did on his
return home was to seek the Fairy in the woods.
'Here,' he said, 'is your ring. My brother's experience has made me
understand many things that I did not know before. Keep it, it has only
led to his destruction. Ah! without it he would be alive now, and my
father and mother would not in their old age be bowed to the earth with
shame and grief! Perhaps he might have been wise and happy if he had
never had the chance of gratifying his wishes! Oh! how dangerous it is
to have more power than the rest of the world! Take back your ring, and
as ill fortune seems to follow all on whom you bestow it, I will implore
you, as a favour to myself, that you will never give it to anyone who is
dear to me.'
Fenelon.
_THE SNUFF-BOX_
As often happens in this world, there was once a young man who spent all
his time in travelling. One day, as he was walking along, he picked up a
snuff-box. He opened it, and the snuff-box said to him in the Spanish
language, 'What do you want?' He was very much frightened, but, luckily,
instead of throwing the box away, he only shut it tight, and put it in
his pocket. Then he went on, away, away, away, and as he went he said to
himself, 'If it says to me again "What do you want?" I shall know better
what to say this time.' So he took out the snuff-box and opened it, and
again it asked 'What do you want?' 'My hat full of gold,' answered the
youth, and immediately it was full.
Our young man was enchanted. Henceforth he should never be in need of
anything. So on he travelled, away, away, away, through thick forests,
till at last he came to a beautiful castle. In the castle there lived a
King. The young man walked round and round the castle, not caring who
saw him, till the King noticed him, and asked what he was doing there.
'I was just looking at your castle.' 'You would like to have one like
it, wouldn't you?' The young man did not reply, but when it grew dark he
took his snuff-box and opened the lid. 'What do you want?' 'Build me a
castle with laths of gold and tiles of diamond, and the furniture all of
silver and gold.' He had scarcely finished speaking when there stood in
front of him, exactly opposite the King's palace, a castle built
precisely as he had ordered. When the King awoke he was struck dumb at
the sight of the magnificent house shining in the rays of the sun. The
servants could not do their work for stopping to stare at it. Then the
King dressed himself, and went to see the young man. And he told him
plainly that he was a very powerful Prince; and that he hoped that they
might all live together in one house or the other, and that the King
would give him his daughter to wife. So it all turned out just as the
King wished. The young man married the Princess, and they lived happily
in the palace of gold.
[Illustration: ?QUE PESEA USTED?]
But the King's wife was jealous both of the young man and of her own
daughter The Princess had told her mother about the snuff-box, which
gave them everything they wanted, and the Queen bribed a servant to
steal the snuff-box. They noticed carefully where it was put away every
night, and one evening, when the whole world was asleep, the woman stole
it and brought it to her old mistress. Oh how happy the Queen was! She
opened the lid, and the snuff-box said to her 'What do you want?' And
she answered at once 'I want you to take me and my husband and my
servants and this beautiful house and set us down on the other side of
the Red Sea, but my daughter and her husband are to stay behind.'
[Illustration]
When the young couple woke up, they found themselves back in the old
castle, without their snuff-box. They hunted for it high and low, but
quite vainly. The young man felt that no time was to be lost, and he
mounted his horse and filled his pockets with as much gold as he could
carry. On he went, away, away, away, but he sought the snuff-box in vain
all up and down the neighbouring countries, and very soon he came to the
end of all his money. But still he went on, as fast as the strength of
his horse would let him, begging his way.
Someone told him that he ought to consult the moon, for the moon
travelled far, and might be able to tell him something. So he went away,
away, away, and ended, somehow or other, by reaching the land of the
moon. There he found a little old woman who said to him 'What are you
doing here? My son eats all living things he sees, and if you are wise,
you will go away without coming any further.' But the young man told her
all his sad tale, and how he possessed a wonderful snuff-box, and how it
had been stolen from him, and how he had nothing left, now that he was
parted from his wife and was in need of everything. And he said that
perhaps her son, who travelled so far, might have seen a palace with
laths of gold and tiles of diamond, and furnished all in silver and
gold. As he spoke these last words, the moon came in and said he smelt
mortal flesh and blood. But his mother told him that it was an unhappy
man who had lost everything, and had come all this way to consult him,
and bade the young man not to be afraid, but to come forward and show
himself. So he went boldly up to the moon, and asked if by any accident
he had seen a palace with the laths of gold and the tiles of diamond,
and all the furniture of silver and gold. Once this house belonged to
him, but now it was stolen. And the moon said no, but that the sun
travelled farther than he did, and that the young man had better go and
ask him.
So the young man departed, and went away, away, away, as well as his
horse would take him, begging his living as he rode along, and, somehow
or other, at last he got to the land of the sun. There he found a little
old woman, who asked him, 'What are you doing here? Go away. Have you
not heard that my son feeds upon Christians?' But he said no, and that
he would not go, for he was so miserable that it was all one to him
whether he died or not; that he had lost everything, and especially a
splendid palace like none other in the whole world, for it had laths of
gold and tiles of diamond, and all the furniture was of silver and gold.
And that he had sought it far and long, and in all the earth there was
no man more unhappy. So the old woman's heart melted, and she agreed to
hide him.
When the Sun arrived, he declared that he smelt Christian flesh, and he
meant to have it for his dinner. But his mother told him such a pitiful
story of the miserable wretch who had lost everything, and had come from
far to ask his help, that at last he promised to see him.
So the young man came out from his hiding-place and begged the sun to
tell him if in the course of his travels he had not seen somewhere a
palace that had not its like in the whole world, for its laths were of
gold and its tiles of diamond, and all the furniture in silver and gold.
And the sun said no, but that perhaps the wind had seen it, for he
entered everywhere, and saw things that no one else ever saw, and if
anyone knew where it was, it was certainly the wind.
Then the poor young man again set forth as well as his horse could take
him, begging his living as he went, and, somehow or other, he ended by
reaching the home of the wind. He found there a little old woman busily
occupied in filling great barrels with water. She asked him what had put
it into his head to come there, for her son ate everything he saw, and
that he would shortly arrive quite mad, and that the young man had
better look out. But he answered that he was so unhappy that he had
ceased to mind anything, even being eaten, and then he told her that he
had been robbed of a palace that had not its equal in all the world, and
of all that was in it, and that he had even left his wife, and was
wandering over the world until he found it. And that it was the sun who
had sent him to consult the wind. So she hid him under the staircase,
and soon they heard the south wind arrive, shaking the house to its
foundations. Thirsty as he was, he did not wait to drink, but he told
his mother that he smelt the blood of a Christian man, and that she had
better bring him out at once and make him ready to be eaten. But she
bade her son eat and drink what was before him, and said that the poor
young man was much to be pitied, and that the sun had granted him his
life in order that he might consult the wind. Then she brought out the
young man, who explained how he was seeking for his palace, and that no
man had been able to tell him where it was, so he had come to the wind.
And he added that he had been shamefully robbed, and that the laths were
of gold and the tiles of diamond, and all the furniture in silver and
gold, and he inquired if the wind had not seen such a palace during his
wanderings.
And the wind said yes, and that all that day he had been blowing
backwards and forwards over it without being able to move one single
tile. 'Oh, do tell me where it is,' cried the young man. 'It is a long
way off,' replied the wind, 'on the other side of the Red Sea.' But our
traveller was not discouraged, he had already journeyed too far.
So he set forth at once, and, somehow or other, he managed to reach that
distant land. And he enquired if anyone wanted a gardener. He was told
that the head gardener at the castle had just left, and perhaps he might
have a chance of getting the place. The young man lost no time, but
walked up to the castle and asked if they were in want of a gardener;
and how happy he was when they agreed to take him! Now he passed most of
his day in gossiping with the servants about the wealth of their masters
and the wonderful things in the house. He made friends with one of the
maids, who told him the history of the snuff-box, and he coaxed her to
let him see it. One evening she managed to get hold of it, and the young
man watched carefully where she hid it away, in a secret place in the
bed-chamber of her mistress.
The following night, when everyone was fast asleep, he crept in and took
the snuff-box. Think of his joy as he opened the lid! When it asked him,
as of yore, 'What do you want?' he replied: 'What do I want? What do I
want? Why, I want to go with my palace to the old place, and for the
King and the Queen and all their servants to be drowned in the Red Sea.'
He hardly finished speaking when he found himself back again with his
wife, while all the other inhabitants of the palace were lying at the
bottom of the Red Sea.
Sebillot.
_THE GOLDEN BLACKBIRD_
Once upon a time there was a great lord who had three sons.
He fell very ill, sent for doctors of every kind, even bone-setters, but
they, none of them, could find out what was the matter with him, or even
give him any relief. At last there came a foreign doctor, who declared
that the Golden Blackbird alone could cure the sick man.
So the old lord despatched his eldest son to look for the wonderful
bird, and promised him great riches if he managed to find it and bring
it back.
The young man began his journey, and soon arrived at a place where four
roads met. He did not know which to choose, and tossed his cap in the
air, determining that the direction of its fall should decide him. After
travelling for two or three days, he grew tired of walking without
knowing where or for how long, and he stopped at an inn which was filled
with merrymakers and ordered something to eat and drink.
'My faith,' said he, 'it is sheer folly to waste more time hunting for
this bird. My father is old, and if he dies I shall inherit his goods.'
The old man, after waiting patiently for some time, sent his second son
to seek the Golden Blackbird. The youth took the same direction as his
brother, and when he came to the cross roads, he too tossed up which
road he should take. The cap fell in the same place as before, and he
walked on till he came to the spot where his brother had halted. The
latter, who was leaning out of the window of the inn, called to him to
stay where he was and amuse himself.
'You are right,' replied the youth. 'Who knows if I should ever find the
Golden Blackbird, even if I sought the whole world through for it. At
the worst, if the old man dies, we shall have his property.'
He entered the inn and the two brothers made merry and feasted, till
very soon their money was all spent. They even owed something to their
landlord, who kept them as hostages till they could pay their debts.
The youngest son set forth in his turn, and he arrived at the place
where his brothers were still prisoners. They called to him to stop, and
did all they could to prevent his going further.
'No,' he replied, 'my father trusted me, and I will go all over the
world till I find the Golden Blackbird.'
'Bah,' said his brothers, 'you will never succeed any better than we
did. Let him die if he wants to; we will divide the property.'
As he went his way he met a little hare, who stopped to look at him, and
asked:
'Where are you going, my friend?'
'I really don't quite know,' answered he. 'My father is ill, and he
cannot be cured unless I bring him back the Golden Blackbird. It is a
long time since I set out, but no one can tell me where to find it.'
'Ah,' said the hare, 'you have a long way to go yet. You will have to
walk at least seven hundred miles before you get to it.'
'And how am I to travel such a distance?'
'Mount on my back,' said the little hare, 'and I will conduct you.'
The young man obeyed: at each bound the little hare went seven miles,
and it was not long before they reached a castle that was as large and
beautiful as a castle could be.
'The Golden Blackbird is in a little cabin near by,' said the little
hare, 'and you will easily find it. It lives in a little cage, with
another cage beside it made all of gold. But whatever you do, be sure
not to put it in the beautiful cage, or everybody in the castle will
know that you have stolen it.'
The youth found the Golden Blackbird standing on a wooden perch, but as
stiff and rigid as if he was dead. And beside the beautiful cage was the
cage of gold.
'Perhaps he would revive if I were to put him in that lovely cage,'
thought the youth.
The moment that Golden Bird had touched the bars of the splendid cage he
awoke, and began to whistle, so that all the servants of the castle ran
to see what was the matter, saying that he was a thief and must be put
in prison.
'No,' he answered, 'I am not a thief. If I have taken the Golden
Blackbird, it is only that it may cure my father, who is ill, and I have
travelled more than seven hundred miles in order to find it.'
'Well,' they replied, 'we will let you go, and will even give you the
Golden Bird, if you are able to bring us the Porcelain Maiden.'
The youth departed, weeping, and met the little hare, who was munching
wild thyme.
'What are you crying for, my friend?' asked the hare.
'It is because,' he answered, 'the castle people will not allow me to
carry off the Golden Blackbird without giving them the Porcelain Maiden
in exchange.'
'You have not followed my advice,' said the little hare. 'And you have
put the Golden Bird into the fine cage.'
'Alas! yes!'
'Don't despair! the Porcelain Maiden is a young girl, beautiful as
Venus, who dwells two hundred miles from here. Jump on my back and I
will take you there.'
The little hare, who took seven miles in a stride, was there in no time
at all, and he stopped on the borders of a lake.
'The Porcelain Maiden,' said the hare to the youth, 'will come here to
bathe with her friends, while I just eat a mouthful of thyme to refresh
me. When she is in the lake, be sure you hide her clothes, which are of
dazzling whiteness, and do not give them back to her unless she consents
to follow you.'
The little hare left him, and almost immediately the Porcelain Maiden
arrived with her friends. She undressed herself and got into the water.
Then the young man glided up noiselessly and laid hold of her clothes,
which he hid under a rock at some distance.
When the Porcelain Maiden was tired of playing in the water she came out
to dress herself, but, though she hunted for her clothes high and low,
she could find them nowhere. Her friends helped her in the search, but,
seeing at last that it was of no use, they left her, alone on the bank,
weeping bitterly.
'Why do you cry?' said the young man, approaching her.
'Alas!' answered she, 'while I was bathing someone stole my clothes, and
my friends have abandoned me.'
'I will find your clothes if you will only come with me.'
And the Porcelain Maiden agreed to follow him, and after having given up
her clothes, the young man bought a small horse for her, which went like
the wind. The little hare brought them both back to seek for the Golden
Blackbird, and when they drew near to the castle where it lived the
little hare said to the young man:
[Illustration]
'Now, do be a little sharper than you were before, and you will manage
to carry off both the Golden Blackbird and the Porcelain Maiden. Take
the golden cage in one hand, and leave the bird in the old cage where he
is, and bring that away too.'
The little hare then vanished; the youth did as he was bid, and the
castle servants never noticed that he was carrying off the Golden Bird.
When he reached the inn where his brothers were detained, he delivered
them by paying their debt. They set out all together, but as the two
elder brothers were jealous of the success of the youngest, they took
the opportunity as they were passing by the shores of a lake to throw
themselves upon him, seize the Golden Bird, and fling him in the water.
Then they continued their journey, taking with them the Porcelain
Maiden, in the firm belief that their brother was drowned. But, happily,
he had snatched in falling at a tuft of rushes and called loudly for
help. The little hare came running to him, and said 'Take hold of my
leg and pull yourself out of the water.'
When he was safe on shore the little hare said to him:
'Now this is what you have to do: dress yourself like a Breton seeking a
place as stable-boy, and go and offer your services to your father. Once
there, you will easily be able to make him understand the truth.'
The young man did as the little hare bade him, and he went to his
father's castle and enquired if they were not in want of a stable-boy.
'Yes,' replied his father, 'very much indeed. But it is not an easy
place. There is a little horse in the stable which will not let anyone
go near it, and it has already kicked to death several people who have
tried to groom it.'
'I will undertake to groom it,' said the youth. 'I never saw the horse I
was afraid of yet.' The little horse allowed itself to be rubbed down
without a toss of its head and without a kick.
'Good gracious!' exclaimed the master; 'how is it that he lets you touch
him, when no one else can go near him?'
'Perhaps he knows me,' answered the stable-boy.
Two or three days later the master said to him: 'The Porcelain Maiden is
here: but, though she is as lovely as the dawn, she is so wicked that
she scratches everyone that approaches her. Try if she will accept your
services.'
When the youth entered the room where she was, the Golden Blackbird
broke forth into a joyful song, and the Porcelain Maiden sang too, and
jumped for joy.
'Good gracious!' cried the master. 'The Porcelain Maiden and the Golden
Blackbird know you too?'
'Yes,' replied the youth, 'and the Porcelain Maiden can tell you the
whole truth, if she only will.'
Then she told all that had happened, and how she had consented to follow
the young man who had captured the Golden Blackbird.
'Yes,' added the youth, 'I delivered my brothers, who were kept
prisoners in an inn, and, as a reward, they threw me into a lake. So I
disguised myself and came here, in order to prove the truth to you.'
So the old lord embraced his son, and promised that he should inherit
all his possessions, and he put to death the two elder ones, who had
deceived him and had tried to slay their own brother.
The young man married the Porcelain Maiden, and had a splendid
wedding-feast.
Sebillot.
_THE LITTLE SOLDIER_
I
Once upon a time there was a little soldier who had just come back from
the war. He was a brave little fellow, but he had lost neither arms nor
legs in battle. Still, the fighting was ended and the army disbanded, so
he had to return to the village where he was born.
Now the soldier's name was really John, but for some reason or other his
friends always called him the Kinglet; why, no one ever knew, but so it
was.
As he had no father or mother to welcome him home, he did not hurry
himself, but went quietly along, his knapsack on his back and his sword
by his side, when suddenly one evening he was seized with a wish to
light his pipe. He felt for his match-box to strike a light, but to his
great disgust he found he had lost it.
He had only gone about a stone's throw after making this discovery when
he noticed a light shining through the trees. He went towards it, and
perceived before him an old castle, with the door standing open.
The little soldier entered the courtyard, and, peeping through a window,
saw a large fire blazing at the end of a low hall. He put his pipe in
his pocket and knocked gently, saying politely:
'Would you give me a light?'
But he got no answer.
After waiting for a moment John knocked again, this time more loudly.
There was still no reply.
He raised the latch and entered; the hall was empty.
The little soldier made straight for the fireplace, seized the tongs,
and was stooping down to look for a nice red hot coal with which to
light his pipe, when clic! something went, like a spring giving way, and
in the very midst of the flames an enormous serpent reared itself up
close to his face.
And what was more strange still, this serpent had the head of a woman.
At such an unexpected sight many men would have turned and run for their
lives; but the little soldier, though he _was_ so small, had a true
soldier's heart. He only made one step backwards, and grasped the hilt
of his sword.
[Illustration]
'Don't unsheath it,' said the serpent. 'I have been waiting for you, as
it is you who must deliver me.'
'Who are you?'
'My name is Ludovine, and I am the daughter of the King of the Low
Countries. Deliver me, and I will marry you and make you happy for ever
after.'
Now, some people might not have liked the notion of being made happy by
a serpent with the head of a woman, but the Kinglet had no such fears.
And, besides, he felt the fascination of Ludovine's eyes, which looked
at him as a snake looks at a little bird. They were beautiful green
eyes, not round like those of a cat, but long and almond-shaped, and
they shone with a strange light, and the golden hair which floated round
them seemed all the brighter for their lustre. The face had the beauty
of an angel, though the body was only that of a serpent.
'What must I do?' asked the Kinglet.
'Open that door. You will find yourself in a gallery with a room at the
end just like this. Cross that, and you will see a closet, out of which
you must take a tunic, and bring it back to me.'
The little soldier boldly prepared to do as he was told. He crossed the
gallery in safety, but when he reached the room he saw by the light of
the stars eight hands on a level with his face, which threatened to
strike him. And, turn his eyes which way he would, he could discover no
bodies belonging to them.
He lowered his head and rushed forward amidst a storm of blows, which he
returned with his fists. When he got to the closet, he opened it, took
down the tunic, and brought it to the first room.
'Here it is,' he panted, rather out of breath.
'Clic!' once more the flames parted. Ludovine was a woman down to her
waist. She took the tunic and put it on.
It was a magnificent tunic of orange velvet, embroidered in pearls, but
the pearls were not so white as her own neck.
'That is not all,' she said. 'Go to the gallery, take the staircase
which is on the left, and in the second room on the first story you will
find another closet with my skirt. Bring this to me.'
The Kinglet did as he was told, but in entering the room he saw, instead
of merely hands, eight arms, each holding an enormous stick. He
instantly unsheathed his sword and cut his way through with such vigour
that he hardly received a scratch.
He brought back the skirt, which was made of silk as blue as the skies
of Spain.
'Here it is,' said John, as the serpent appeared. She was now a woman as
far as her knees.
'I only want my shoes and stockings now,' she said. 'Go and get them
from the closet which is on the second story.'
The little soldier departed, and found himself in the presence of eight
goblins armed with hammers, and flames darting from their eyes. This
time he stopped short at the threshold. 'My sword is no use,' he thought
to himself; 'these wretches will break it like glass, and if I can't
think of anything else, I am a dead man.' At this moment his eyes fell
on the door, which was made of oak, thick and heavy. He wrenched it off
its hinges and held it over his head, and then went straight at the
goblins, whom he crushed beneath it. After that he took the shoes and
stockings out of the closet and brought them to Ludovine, who, directly
she had put them on, became a woman all over.
When she was quite dressed in her white silk stockings and little blue
slippers dotted over with carbuncles, she said to her deliverer, 'Now
you must go away, and never come back here, whatever happens. Here is a
purse with two hundred ducats. Sleep to-night at the inn which is at the
edge of the wood, and awake early in the morning: for at nine o'clock I
shall pass the door, and shall take you up in my carriage.' 'Why
shouldn't we go now?' asked the little soldier. 'Because the time has
not yet come,' said the Princess. 'But first you may drink my health in
this glass of wine,' and as she spoke she filled a crystal goblet with a
liquid that looked like melted gold.
John drank, then lit his pipe and went out.