"Infinite riches in a little room."
The words of the wise old woman of Hollowbush were true, then. Here was
a place where gems were more abundant than flowers; and as the child
stood on the threshold gazing into the diminutive but wondrously
beautiful apartment that had opened so suddenly before her, she saw that
she was indeed in the presence-chamber of a king.
The walls were of pure white marble, studded with diamonds, and from the
ceiling, which she could almost touch with her hand, hung slender
chandeliers of the same material. In each of these, instead of lamps,
were innumerable sapphires, throwing a soft blue light over all the
place. In every stone a star seemed to be burning steady and clear and
wonderfully brilliant. It was the asteria, or star sapphire, which was
alone considered worthy to light even the outer courts of the king over
a country so rich in gems as this.
The child clapped her hands, and would no doubt have shouted with
delight if she had not found herself encircled by tiny men, all looking
exactly alike, and all winking and blinking at her just as the
gate-keeper had done.
Before she could speak, or even clap her hands a second time, they had
entirely surrounded her, joining hands, and wheeling round and round,
singing as they went:
"Workers are we--one, two, three--
And merry men all, as you see, as you see;
Deep under the ground,
Where jewels are found,
We work, and we sing
While we dance in a ring.
But a mortal has come to the caves below,
So, merry men all, bow low, bow low,
For our sister she'll be--one, two, three."
Three times did these strange and merry little people sing their song,
and three times did they whirl around the new-comer, thus introducing
themselves and welcoming her to their dominions.
[Illustration: "I AM THE KING OF THE MINERAL WORKERS."]
Then one of them, but whether the gate-keeper or another she could not
tell, stepped forward, and making a low bow, said. "I am the king of the
mineral-workers and the workers in stone. These are my people; but
because you are a mortal, we one and all bow before you."
At these words all the little people bowed and waved their hands. Then
the king continued:
"Henceforth you are to be known as the Princess Bébè;" and he mounted a
marble footstool that stood close by, standing on tiptoe, and placing on
the head of the new-made princess a tiny coronet of pearls. Dumb with
astonishment, the Princess Bébè listened quietly to all that was said to
her, and allowed herself to be led away by one of the little men, who
had been appointed her chamberlain.
It was now getting late, and she was glad enough to be shown to her own
room, that she might think over the many wonderful things which she had
seen.
But here were new wonder and new riches.
Instead of being covered with a carpet, the floor was laid in squares of
jasper, the windows were of pure white crystal instead of glass, and the
curtains were made of a fine net-work of gold, caught back with a double
row of amethysts.
The furniture was of gold and silver, exquisitely carved, and the quilt,
which lay in stiff folds over the bed, was a marvel of beautiful colors
that seemed to be now one thing and now another.
The Princess Bébè held her breath. "It will be like going to sleep on a
rainbow," she said to herself, for the opal bed was full of changing
colors, now red, now green, and then purple and soft rose-pink, and
then, perhaps, green again. "There was never anything so beautiful as
this!" exclaimed the princess, throwing herself down; but the next
moment she was ready to cry with vexation, for there was neither warmth
nor softness in the opal bed, and she lay awake all night, alternately
shivering and crying.
"I won't stay in this place another moment," she said, the next morning,
when the chamberlain knocked at her door.
The chamberlain bowed, and held before her a silver cup filled with
jewels. "These are a present from the king to the Princess Bébè," he
said, holding it up for her inspection.
There was first of all a diamond necklace, just what she had been
wishing for; then there were ear-rings and bracelets of lapis lazuli of
a beautiful azure color; string after string of pearls; emeralds set in
buckles for her shoes; amethysts; sapphires as blue as the sea; and last
of all a large topaz, which shone with a brilliant yellow light, as if
it had been sunshine which some one had caught and imprisoned for her.
The Princess Bébè forgot for a moment her hard bed and sleepless night,
and ran to the king to thank him for his presents.
"I am glad to find that you are pleased with your new home," said the
king, graciously. "Did the princess sleep well during the night?"
"Oh, not at all well," she answered, forgetting her errand. "And I was
very cold, besides."
"Cold? cold?" said the king, sharply. "We must see to that."
Turning to one of his attendants, who held a crystal cup on which were
engraved the arms of the royal family, he took from it a stone of a dark
orange color, and said,
"This is a jacinth, my dear princess. Whenever you are cold, you have
only to rub your hands against it, and you will feel a delicious sense
of warmth stealing through your limbs."
The princess rubbed her hands against the smooth stone as the king
suggested; but she almost immediately threw it away again, crying out
with pain.
"Oh, I don't like it at all," she exclaimed. "It pricks and hurts."
"It is nothing but the electricity," answered the king. "You will soon
get accustomed to it, and I have no doubt will be quite fond of your
electrical stove."
"I don't want to get accustomed to it," answered the princess. "I want
to go home."
Then the king's face grew dark, and his pale blue eyes winked and
blinked until they shone like two blazing lights.
"No one comes into our country to go away again," he said at length.
"You are the Princess Bébè, adopted daughter of the king of the
mineral-workers and the workers in stone, and with him you must stay for
the rest of your life."
In spite of her diamond necklace, the princess was actually crying,
although it is almost past belief that any one with a diamond necklace
could cry; but the merry little mineral-workers, seeing the tears in her
eyes, crowded around her, and tried their best to comfort her.
"Come into the garden," said one; and "Come to the gold chests," said
another, "and see the diamonds."
"Diamonds!" exclaimed the princess, angrily and ungratefully: "I hate
the very sight of them. But I would like to see the garden," she added,
more gently.
Aleck, the gate-keeper, offered to act as escort, and the princess dried
her eyes. He at least was her friend, she thought; and on the way to the
garden, being very hungry, she ventured to ask him when they were to
have breakfast.
"Breakfast!" he said. "Why, we don't have breakfasts here."
"Well, then, dinner," suggested the princess, meekly.
"Nor dinners either," replied the little man. "Why should we have
dinners?"
"But at least you have suppers," said the princess, desperately, and
feeling ready to cry again.
"What are you thinking of?" asked the gate-keeper, with an air of
surprise.
Then the princess grew angry.
"What am I thinking of?" she cried, at the top of her voice. "I am
thinking of something to eat--that's what I'm thinking of, and I'm
almost starved."
The little gate-keeper looked up, with a curious smile on his face, and
answered:
"Well, then, my dear princess, if that is what makes you unhappy, pray
don't think of it any more. No one ever eats anything here. Indeed, I
can not imagine anything more absurd."
Then, being at heart a very kind and obliging little person, he came
close to the princess, and said:
"I am sorry for you--indeed I am, but don't give way to tears. They
won't turn stones into bread. I beseech you, my dear Princess Bébè, to
look at our fruit trees and flowers. They are considered very beautiful.
I have no doubt but the sight of them will help you to bear this strange
feeling which you call hunger." Then, kissing the princess's hand, he
added: "I must leave you now and go to the gate. Amuse yourself in the
garden, my dear princess, till I return."
It was a wondrously beautiful garden, as any one could see, but somehow
the Princess Bébè did not get much comfort from it.
"Oh, if those were only real apples!" she sighed, for there were what
seemed to be apple-trees in great abundance. But the apples were of
malachite--a hard opaque stone of two shades of green--and when she
tried to taste the grapes, she found they were only purple amethysts
arranged in graceful clusters. The cherries were all of stone, instead
of having a stone in the middle; and the plums were just as bad and just
as beautiful--the cherries were deep red rubies, and the plums were made
of chrysoprase. Nothing but hard glittering gems wherever she turned her
eyes.
The poor princess seemed likely to die of starvation in spite of her
riches, but she thought she would be almost willing to endure hunger if
she could only have a rose that would smell like the sweet-brier roses
which grew in Hollowbush in her own little garden. For what she had at
first taken to be roses were, after all, nothing but pink coral
cunningly carved, the daffodils were of amber, and the forget-me-nots
were one and all made of the pale blue turquoise.
"It is very certain that I must die," said the princess, sadly, and she
covered her face with her hands, crying bitterly, and praying that if
death must come to her, it might come quickly.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]