swallowed a small portion of the sleeping potion. He crawled out from
under the silken coverlet, which was trailing in the sea, and when he
saw the water all about him and his mistress still asleep, he began to
bark as loudly as he could. The noise he made attracted the attention
of a poor old beggar who lived in a hut not far away.
The old man hastened down to the water’s edge, and with the aid of a
boat-hook soon managed to draw the mattress to shore. What was his
amazement to see a beautiful lady lying upon it fast asleep, and a
little green dog keeping guard over her.
The old man tried to arouse Rosetta, but for a long time he was
unsuccessful. At length, however, she opened her eyes and sat up and
looked about her. She was amazed to find herself stranded upon an
unknown shore and with only an old man and Fifine for her attendants
instead of safely aboard her ship, with her nurse and foster-sister in
attendance upon her.
“Where am I?” she cried. “Where is the ship and where are my
attendants? And who are you, old man?”
The old man told her he was only a poor beggar, and of how he had seen
her mattress stranded upon a rock and had drawn it to shore, and that
this country where she found herself was the kingdom of the Peacocks.
As to any ship, he knew nothing of it.
Rosetta could not wonder enough when she learned she was already in the
Peacock country. The old man even pointed out to her a shining castle
and a town not far away, and told her that was the place where the King
of the Peacocks lived.
Seeing she was now able to raise herself and move about, the old man
invited her to come with him to his hut. “It is but a poor place for a
great princess,” he said (for it was easy for him to see that Rosetta
was a princess), “but at least it will be a safe shelter for you.”
Rosetta gladly accepted his invitation. His hut was indeed poor and
mean, but the old man was so kind and eager to please her that she
could not but be grateful. He was greatly distressed because he could
offer her nothing to eat but a piece of black bread and a cup of water.
“Do not grieve over that,” said the princess. “Only give me a basket
and we shall soon be supplied with a fine feast.”
Wondering, the old man gave her a basket. Rosetta tied it round the
neck of Fifine.
“Fifine,” said she, “run to the palace of the King and bring us from
there a part of the dinner that has been prepared for him.”
Fifine understood every word perfectly. He at once set out, and made
such good speed that he quickly reached the palace. He slipped into the
kitchen without being seen. The King’s dinner was done to a turn, and
waiting to be carried to him. Fifine, slipping about here and there,
managed to steal a part of everything, and the best part at that, of
the meat, the poultry, the pastries and sweetmeats—he took some of
each, and hid it in the basket. Then he ran away, still without being
noticed, and was soon back at the old man’s hut.
The old man was filled with amazement when he saw what the dog had
brought. Never had he seen such delicious food before. The princess sat
down and he served her, and after she had finished he ate his fill, and
still there was some left.
The next day Rosetta wished for some fresh food. She had no love for
cold dishes. Again she tied the basket round the neck of the little
dog. “Fifine,” she said, “you did very well yesterday. To-day you must
again bring me a portion of all that the King is to have for dinner.”
Fifine bounded away with the basket, and it was not long before he
returned, bringing a part of all that was to have been served to the
King.
So it went on for some time. Every day the best part of the King’s
dinner was stolen just before it was ready to be carried to him.
Rosetta and the old man feasted finely every day, and the poor young
King was like to die of hunger, because every day his dinner was
stolen. A guard was set about the palace kitchen to prevent anyone
except the cook and his assistants from going in and out, but still the
food continued to disappear; for Fifine was so small and quick that he
managed to escape the notice of the guard.
At last one day a little scullion, who had grown very curious about the
matter, hid himself behind the kitchen door, determined to watch for
himself. The dinner was cooked, and ready to be put into the dishes,
when the scullion saw a little green dog, with a basket tied about
his neck, slip into the room. The dog looked about to make sure that
no one was watching. Seeing no one, he hastened to take the best part
of the dinner and put it in the basket. As soon as he had done this,
he slipped silently from the kitchen and ran off as fast as he could
toward the old man’s hut. The scullion followed him and saw where he
went. Then he returned to the palace and told the cook what he had
seen. The cook found it hard to believe such a strange tale, but still
he repeated it to the Captain of the Guard, the Captain told it to the
Grand Councillor, the Grand Councillor told it to the King’s favourite,
and so in time it reached the ears of the King himself.
“This is a curious thing if it is true,” said the King. “I would like
to see it for myself.” So the next day he arose, and just before
dinner-time he went down to the kitchen and hid himself behind the
door. He had not been there long when the door was pushed open, and a
little green dog slipped into the room. The little animal went from
dish to dish, just as the scullion had said, and helped himself until
his basket was full. Then he slipped away and ran home to the old man’s
hut, and the King followed him without being observed.
His Majesty did not go as far as the hut, however. He waited until the
little dog had been admitted and the door closed behind him, and then
he returned to his palace, very thoughtful.
The next day he sent to the hut for Rosetta and the old man to appear
before him. The beggar was greatly alarmed when he received the
message.
“See what you have brought upon us,” he cried to the princess. “No
doubt they have discovered that it is your dog that has been stealing
the King’s dinner, and now we shall be punished for it. Perhaps we may
even lose our lives.”
Rosetta, however, was not troubled. She was, indeed, only too glad to
be brought before the King. It was what she had been hoping for. She
waited only to draw a veil over her face, and then she was ready to go
with the guard to the palace.
As soon as Rosetta, with the beggar and Fifine, entered the room where
the young King was, he was struck by the grace and dignity with which
she moved. He called her close to him and began to question her.
“Who are you,” he asked, “and whence do you come? And is it you who
have caused my dinners to disappear?”
To all this Rosetta answered nothing. The King then leaned forward and
drew the veil aside from her face. As soon as he did so, the beauty
of the princess shone forth like the sun. Every one was amazed at
it. As for the King, he was overcome with joy and wonder, for he at
once recognized her as the original of the portrait that the princes
had shown him, only her living face was far more beautiful than the
painting, even as the sun surpasses the moon in brightness.
“Beautiful princess, whence come you?” he cried. “Why have you hidden
from me for all these days and allowed another to take your place? And
one so hideous as she who claims to be my bride?”
Rosetta told him her story as far as she knew it, and the King listened
attentively. He at once guessed that it was the treachery of the old
nurse and her daughter that had placed Rosetta in this situation. He
sent for them to appear before him, and while he waited for them to
come, he and the princess talked together, and so wise she was and so
witty that with every word she said he loved her better.
The nurse and her daughter, when they received the King’s message, made
sure that he had sent for them in order to arrange the time for the
wedding. They were overjoyed, and at once put on their finest clothes.
But no sooner had they entered the audience-room, and seen Rosetta
seated on the throne beside the King, than they almost swooned with
terror. They knew that now all had been discovered, and they fell on
their knees before him and began to beseech him to pardon them.
The King was so angry at the wrong they had done the princess that he
would have sent them to some miserable dungeon for the rest of their
lives. But Rosetta was as tender-hearted as she was beautiful. She
pleaded with him to have mercy; so the two wicked women were spared
that fate.
Instead, their fine clothes were taken from them, and they were dressed
in rags and driven from the palace, and as they were too ugly and
wicked for anyone but Rosetta to pity them, no doubt they ended their
lives in misery.
The two princes were brought from their dungeons and given all
the wealth and honours the King had promised them, and when they
learned how he had been deceived, they could not but forgive him his
ill-treatment of them.
As for the old beggar-man, he was made rich for life.
The King and the princess were married, and lived in mutual love and
happiness to the end of their days; and as for Fifine, he slept on
satin cushions and ate the daintiest fare, and lived long enough to
play with Rosetta’s children and show them the hundred pretty tricks he
knew.
* * * * *
Transcriber’s Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
Page 137, “or” changed to “of” (of iron and fifteen)
End of Project Gutenberg's Wonder Tales from Many Lands, by Katharine Pyle