“And, when she cam’ into the kirk,She shimmered like the sun;The belt that was about her waistWas a’ with pearles bedone.”
“And, when she cam’ into the kirk,She shimmered like the sun;The belt that was about her waistWas a’ with pearles bedone.”
So great was her love for him, that she forgot her lost home under the earth; and every day, when she bade her husband “good-morning,” she placed in his hand a precious stone; and he kissed her, calling her his “dear Moneta,” his “heart’s jewel.” But at last the diamonds, sapphires, and rubies were all gone; and she was also losing the power of shedding gold-dust. Then herhusband frowned on her, and no longer called her his “heart’s jewel,” or his “dear Moneta.”
At length she presented him with a little daughter as lovely as a water-sprite, with hair like threads of gold. Now the father watched the babe with a greedy eye; for its mother had wept precious tears of molten gold before she received the gift of human grief, and he hoped her child would do the same; but, when he found it was only a common mortal, he shut his heart against the babe. Moneta was no longer yellow and ugly, but very beautiful; with deep eyes, out of which looked a sweet soul: yet she had lost her fairy gifts, and her husband had ceased to love her. The good woman mourned in secret; and would have wished to die, only her precious child comforted her heart.
One day, as she was sitting by the shore of the lake, a water-kelpie saw her weeping, and came to her in the form of a white-haired old man, saying,—
“Charming lady! why do you weep? Come with me to my kingdom under the waters. My people are always happy.”
Then she looked where he bade her, and saw, afar down under the waters, a beautiful city, whose streets were paved with red and white coral.
The kelpie said, “Will you go down?”
“No,” sighed Moneta, thinking of the kind words her husband had sometimes spoken to her: “I cannot go yet.”
But the kelpie came every day, repeating the question, “Will you go now?” and she answered, “I cannot go yet.”
But at last her husband said,—
“How often the thought comes to me, IfI had no wife and child, all this gold would be mine!” and he knitted his brows with a frown.
Then Moneta looked in his face, and said,—
“Dear Ivan, I have loved you truly; but you no longer care for Moneta. I will go away with the little child, and all our gold shall be yours. Farewell!”
Then she embraced him with falling tears. His heart was stirred within him; and he would have followed her, only he knew not which way she had gone.
Soon the water-kelpie came to him in the form of a horse; and ran before him, neighing fiercely, and breathing fire from his mouth. This is the way kelpies take to announce the fact that some one has gone under the water.
So the man followed the kelpie. His heartwas swelling with grief; and all his love for his wife and child had come back to him.
He looked into the lake, and saw the fair city. In a transparent palace Moneta was sitting, crowned with pearls, the child sleeping on her bosom. He shouted,—
“Come back, O Moneta!” but she heard him not.
He went every day to the same spot, never leaving it until the water was clear, and he had seen his wife and child. He cared no more for his fine castle and his gold; for the castle was empty, and the gold could not speak.
“Alas,” cried he, “if I could listen to the music of Moneta’s voice! if I could hold the child in my arms once more!”
Now he cared for nothing but to gaze into the waters at Moneta and her child.
One day, the water-kelpie appeared to him in the form of an old man.
Ivan stares down into the water, where Moneta sits with their child
THE WATER-KELPIE. Page70.
“Why sit you here, sighing like the north wind?” said the kelpie.
“I have loved gold better than my best friends,” replied Ivan; “and now my best friends are taken away from me, and the gold is left; but I love it no longer.”
“Ah, ah!” growled the kelpie; “I have heard of such men as you: nothing is dear till it is missed. You should have thought of that before. If your lost ones were to return, you would treat them as badly as ever, no doubt.”
“No, no,” groaned Ivan; “I would love them better than all the wealth in the world! I would love them better than my own life! Ah, the sting it is to think of my own ingratitude!”
“Hold!” said the kelpie: “grumble to yourself if you like, but don’t vex my ears with your complaints. Suppose I were tobring back Moneta and the child,—would you give me your chests of gold?”
“That I will,” cried the man, “right joyfully.”
“Not so fast: will you give me your castle as well?”
“Ah, yes, castle and gold; take them, and welcome.”
“Not so fast: Moneta and her child are worth more than these. Will you give me the castle and gold, and ten years of your life?”
“With all my heart.”
“Then,” said the kelpie “go home, and to-morrow you shall see Moneta and her child.”
When the morrow came, the husband and wife wept for joy at meeting once more; and Ivan said,—
“Can you forgive me, dearest Moneta?”
Moneta had already forgiven him; and the three—father, mother, and child—loved one another, and were content to the end of their lives; and Ivan said,—
“Once for all I have found that gold cannot make one happy; but, with the blessing of a clear conscience, warm hearts and loving words are the sweetest things in life.”
“I tell the tale as ’twas told to me.”
I have heard that one night, on a distant shore, a band of water-nixies were dancing to gentle music, their golden sandals twinkling like stars.
A lord and lady were walking on the same shore. The lord’s eyes were bent on the ground; but his wife paused, and said,—
“Listen, my lord, to that enchanting music!”
“I hear no music,” he replied, laughing. “You must wake up, dear wife.
“With half-shut eyes, ever you seemFalling asleep in a half-dream.”
“With half-shut eyes, ever you seemFalling asleep in a half-dream.”
“But, my lord, those exquisite beings in gossamer robes! surely you see them!”
“I see the play of the moonbeams, my love, and nothing more.”
But the wife stood transfixed. One beautiful fairy, taller and fairer than her companions, had wings, and floated through the dance, scarcely touching the earth.
“Was ever such a vision of loveliness?” cried the enraptured lady: “she must be my own little daughter,—eat of my bread, and sleep upon my bosom.”
Then, kneeling, she sang,—
“Fair little nixies, that dwell near the water,Give me the winged one to be my own daughter.”
“Fair little nixies, that dwell near the water,Give me the winged one to be my own daughter.”
The dance ceased. The nixies, bewildered, looked north and south, and knew not which way to flee; but the winged fairy, attracted by the human love in the lady’seyes, glided slowly forward. Then the nixies stormed in fierce wrath, their willowy figures swaying to and fro as if blown by the wind.
“They shall not harm you, little one. Come with me, be my own daughter, and I will carry you home.”
“Home!” echoed the lovely child; “my home is in the Summer-land. Oh, will you indeed carry me there?”
Then she folded her white wings, and nestled in the lady’s bosom like a gentle dove, and was borne to a beautiful castle that overlooked the sea. The water-nixies soon forgot her, for they could not hold her memory in their little humming-bird hearts.
She was not of their race. Her wings were soft and transparent, like those of a white butterfly; and she ever declared that she had once alighted from a cloud, and beencaught in a nixie’s net spread upon the grass.
But, in time, her wings dwindled and disappeared; and then the lord, who was now her father, could not remember that she had ever been other than an earthly child.
“You fancy you were once a sylphid,” said he; “but there are no sylphids, my sweet one, and there is no Summer-land.”
The child became as dear to the lord and lady as their very heart’s blood; and they forgot her foreign birth, and almost believed, as all the world did, that she was their own little daughter. But the child did not forget. She longed for the true home she had left; but whither should she go to seek it?
“Dear papa,” said she, one day, “I beg you will not say again there are no sylphids; for I remember so well how I spread mywings and flew. It was glorious to see the clouds float under my feet!”
“Very well,” said the lord; “if you like, I will say there are sylphids in the air, and trolls inside the earth; and, once on a time, I was myself a great white butterfly: do you remember chasing me over a bed of roses?”
“O papa, now you laugh! I love the twinkle in your eye; and I am so glad it is you, and no one else, who is my papa; but just the same, and forevermore, I shall keep saying,I was a sylphid!”
Sometimes, when she set her white teeth into some delicious fruit, she said with dreamy eyes,—
“These grapes of Samarcand came across the seas; but they are not so sweet as the fruit in my own garden, mamma.”
“And where is your garden, my child?”
“Oh, in the Summer-land. I always forgetthat you have never seen it. When I go there again, mamma, I will certainly take you too; for I love you with all my heart. I can never go without you.”
When she heard the evening-bells from the minster, she said, “Oh, they are like the joy-bells at home, only not so sweet. Nothing, here, is so sweet. Even my dear mamma is not so lovely as the lady who comes when I am asleep.”
Little One—they called her Little One for the want of a name—loved to prattle about the wonders of that mysterious fairy-land, which no one but herself had ever seen. Her mother would not check her, but let her tell her pretty visions of remembered rainbows, and palaces, and precious gems. She said,—
“The child has such a vivid fancy! It is not all of us who can see pictures when our eyes are shut.”
But the lord was not so well pleased; and once, when his daughter looked at a frozen stream and murmured, “Wehave thehappiestrivers at home; they sing all day long, all the year, without freezing! Can I find that Summer-land again! Oh, I would creep all over the world to seek it,” he replied,—
“Little One, it is some cloud-city you are thinking of, some dream-land, or isle of Long Ago, which you will never see again. I beg you to forget these wild fancies.”
But still the child dreamed on. Once she heard the glad song of the Hyperboreans:—
“I come from a land in the sun-bright deep,Where golden gardens glow;Where the winds of the North, becalmed in sleep,Their conch-shells never blow.”
“I come from a land in the sun-bright deep,Where golden gardens glow;Where the winds of the North, becalmed in sleep,Their conch-shells never blow.”
She clapped her hands, murmuring to herself,—
“Thereis my home! I think I remember now itwas‘a land in the sun-bright deep!’”
So, when she journeyed with her parents to distant countries, she always hoped that some ship would bear her away to the Happy Isles; and when they once touched a bright shore, and some one cried, “The isles of Greece! the isles of Greece!” she thought she was home at last, and hardly dared look at the remembered shore. But, alas, she had not yet reached the Summer-land: this was not her home.
Then she heard her father say that the jewels she wore had been brought up from the deep places under the earth.
“I wonder I had not thought of that,” she said to herself. “Since there are such beautiful gems in my lost home, it must lie under the earth. No doubt if I could only find theright cave, and walk in it far enough, I should come to the Summer-land.”
So she set out, one day, in wild haste, but only lost herself in a deep cavern; and, when she found daylight again, she was all alone upon the face of the earth. Her father and mother were nowhere to be seen. She shouted their names, and ran to and fro seeking them till her strength was all spent. It was growing dark; and Little One could only creep under a shelter, and weep herself asleep.
Next morning it was no better, but far worse. Her wretched parents had gone home, believing her drowned in the sea. Poor Little One was now all alone in the world, and her heart ached with the cold. Kind friends gave her food and shelter, and her clothing was warm as warm could be; still her heart ached with the cold. Peoplepraised her beauty so much that she dared not look up to let them see how lovely she was; but she had lost both her father and mother, and her heart ached and ached. She thought winter was coming on; and the world was growing so chilly, that now she must certainly set out for the Summer-land. Then she said,—
“If I am a sylphid, perhaps my home is over the hills, and far away. Yes: I think it must be in the country where the music goes.”
For she thought, when she heard music, that it seemed to hover and float over the earth, and lose itself in the sky; so she began to set her face toward the country where the music goes. But, though she gazed till her eyes ached, she never saw her long-lost home, nor so much as a glimpse of one of its spires.
One night, after gazing and weeping till she could scarcely see, and had no tears left, the bright being who visited her dreams came and whispered,—
“If there be a land so fairO’er the mountain shining,You will never enter thereBy looking up and pining.”
“If there be a land so fairO’er the mountain shining,You will never enter thereBy looking up and pining.”
“Dear me! then what shall I do?” said Little One, clasping her hands. “I am tired of the dropping rain, and the bleak winds; I have lost my father and mother; I long to go home to the Summer-land.”
“There are hills to climb, and streams to cross,” said the fairy.
“But I have stout shoes,” laughed Little One.
“There are thorns and briers all along the road.”
“But I can bear to be pricked.”
“Then I will guide you,” said the fairy.
“How can that be?” cried the child. “You come to me in dreams; but by daylight I cannot see so much as the tips of your wings.”
“Listen, and you will hear my voice,” replied the fairy. “Set out toward the East, at dawn, to-morrow, and I will be with you.”
When Little One awoke, the sun was rising, and she said,—
“Oh that golden gate! The sun has left it open: do you see it, beautiful lady?”
“I see it,” whispered the fairy: “I am close beside you.”
“Then,” said Little One, fastening her dress, and putting on all the jewels she could possibly carry, “I think I will set out at once; for, if I make all speed, I may reach the Summer-land before that golden gate is closed.”
She pressed on, as the fairy directed, up a steep hill, her eyes fixed on the glowing eastern sky. But, as the sun strode up higher, the morning clouds melted away.
“Where is my golden gate?” cried the child.
“Weeping so soon?” whispered the fairy.
“Do not scold me, dear Whisper,” moaned the child; “you know I have lost my kind father and mother; and the thorns prick me; and then this is such a lonely road; there is nobody to be seen.”
The truth was, there were children gathering strawberries on the hill, and old women digging herbs; but Little One did not see them, for she was all the while watching the sky. But she was soon obliged to pause, and take breath.
“Look about you,” said the Whisper, “you may see some one as unhappy as yourself.”
The child looked, and saw a little girl driving a goat; while large tears trickled down her cheeks, and moistened her tattered dress. For a moment, Little One’s heart ceased aching with its own troubles.
“What is your name, little girl?” said she: “and why do you weep?”
“My name is Poor Dorel,” replied the child; “my father and mother are long since dead; and I have nothing to eat but goat’s milk and strawberries:” and, as she spoke, the large tears started afresh.
“Poor Dorel! you are the first one I ever saw who had as much trouble as I. I, too, have lost a father and mother.”
“Were they a king and queen?” asked Dorel, wiping her eyes, and gazing at Little One’s beautiful dress and glittering ornaments.
“They loved me dearly,” replied LittleOne sadly; “yet I never heard that they were king and queen. Come with me, darling Dorel! I never before saw any one who was hungry. Come with me! I live in a country where there is food enough for everybody.”
“Where is that?” said Dorel, eagerly.
“I do not quite know, little girl; but it is not in the bosom of the earth, and it is not in the sun-bright deep: so I suppose it is over the hills, and far away.”
“Now I know who you are,” said Dorel. “You are thelost sylphid; and people say you have travelled all over the world. But, if you do not know the way home, pray how can you tell which road to take?”
“Oh! I have a guide,—a beautiful fairy, called Whisper: she shows me every step of the way. I wish you would go too, little Dorel!”
“I think I will not, little Sylphid; for, if you have only a Whisper for a guide, I do not believe you will ever get there; but, oh, you are very, very beautiful!”
“If you will not go,” said Little One, “let me, at least, give you a few of my jewels: you can sell them for bread.”
So saying, she took from her girdle some turquoise ornaments, and placed them in Dorel’s hand with a kiss which had her whole heart in it.
“Now I love you,” said Dorel; “but more for the kiss than any thing else; and I am going before you to cut down the thorns that shoot out by the wayside. I am a little mountain-girl, and know how to use the pruning-knife.”
Little One danced for joy. She found she could now walk with wonderful ease; for not only were there no more sharp thorns toprick her, but her heart was also full of a new love, which made the whole world look beautiful.
“You see the way is growing easier,” said the Whisper.
“Pour out thy love like the rush of a river,Wasting its waters forever and ever.”
“Pour out thy love like the rush of a river,Wasting its waters forever and ever.”
“So I will,” said Little One. “Is there any one else to love?”
By and by she met an old woman, bent nearly double, and picking up dry sticks with trembling hands.
“Poor woman!” said Little One: “I am going to love you.”
“Dear me!” said the old crone, dropping her sticks, and looking up with surprise in every wrinkle: “you don’t meanme? Why, my heart is all dried up.”
“Then you need to be loved all the more,” cried Little One heartily.
The poor woman laughed; but, at the same time, brushed a tear from her eye with the corner of her apron.
“I thought,” said Little One, “I was the only unhappy one in the world: it seemed a pity my heart should ache so much; but, oh, I would rather have it ache than be dried up!”
“I suppose you never were beaten,” said the old woman; “you were never pelted with whizzing stones?”
“Indeed I never, never was!” replied Little One, greatly shocked by the question.
“By your costly dress, I know you never were so poor as to be always longing for food. Let me tell you, my good child, when one is beaten and scolded, and feels cold all winter, and hungry all summer, it is no wonder one’s heart dries up!”
Little One threw her arms about the oldwoman’s neck. “Let me help you pick sticks!” said she; “you are too old for hard work; your hands tremble too much.”
Swiftly gathering up a load of fagots, she put them together in a bundle.
“Now, how many jewels shall I give her?” thought the child. “She must never want for food again.”
“How many?” echoed the Whisper.
“Give as the morning that flows out of heaven:Give as the free air and sunshine are given.”
“Give as the morning that flows out of heaven:Give as the free air and sunshine are given.”
“Then she shall have half,” said Little One in great glee. “Here, poor woman, take these sapphires and rubies and diamonds, and never be hungry again!”
“Heavenly child!” said the stranger, laying her wasted hand on the sylphid’s bright head, and blessing her, “it is little except thanks that an old creature like me can give;yet may be you will not scorn this pair of little shoes: they are strong, and, when you have to step on the sharp mountain-rocks, they will serve you well.”
Little One’s delicate slippers were already much worn, and she gladly exchanged them for the goat-skin shoes; but, strange to relate, no sooner had she done so than she found herself flitting over rocks and rough places with perfect ease, and at such speed, that, when she looked back, in a moment, she had already left the old woman far behind, and out of sight. They were magical shoes; but, no matter how fast they skimmed over the ground, Dorel, out of pure love, continued to go before, talking and laughing and smoothing the way.
One by one Little One sold her jewels to buy bread, which she shared with all the needy she chanced to meet. After manydays there remained but one gem; and she wept because she had no more to give. But, through her tears, she now, for the first time, fancied she could see the spires and turrets of her beautiful home, though, as yet, very far off.
“How fast I have come!” said she, laughing with delight. “But for these magical shoes, and Dorel’s pruning-knife, I should have been even now struggling at the foot of the hill.”
Then she looked down at her torn dress.
“What a sad plight I am in! no one will know me when I get home!”
“Never fear!” said the fairy: “you are sure to be welcome.”
Little One now held up her last jewel in the sunlight, while a starving boy looked at it with eager eyes.
“Take it!” said she, weeping with thetenderest pity. “I only wish it were a diamond instead of a ruby,—a diamond as large as my heart!”
Little One crosses the bridge
THE LOST SYLPHID. Page95.
The boy blessed her with a tremulous voice. Little One pressed on, singing softly to herself, till she came to a frightful chasm, full of water.
“How shall I ever cross it!” she cried in alarm.
“May I help you, fair Sylphid?” said the grateful boy to whom she had given her last jewel. “I can make a bridge in the twinkling of an eye.”
So saying, he threw across the roaring torrent a film which looked as frail as any spider’s web.
“It will bear you,” said the Whisper: “do not be afraid!”
So Little One ventured upon the gossamer bridge, which was to the eye as delicate asmist; but to the feet as strong as adamant. She hushed her fears, and walked over it with a stout heart.
Now, she was on the borders of the Summer-land. Here were the turrets and spires, the soft white clouds, the green fields, and sunny streams. Instantly her long-lost wings appeared again; and she spread them like a happy bird, and flew home. Oh, it was worth years of longing and pain! She was held in tender embraces, and kissed lovingly by well-remembered friends. To her great surprise and delight, her father and mother were both there—they had arrived at the Summer-land while seeking their Little One.
“Now I know,” said her father, “that my daughter was not dreaming when she longed for her remembered home.”
Little One looked at her soiled dress; but the stains had disappeared; and, mostwonderful! all the jewels she had worn on her neck and arms, and in her girdle, were there yet, burning with increased brilliancy. Little One gazed again, and counted to see if any were missing. Yes: two she had sold for bread were not there. It was the jewels she hadgiven awaywhich had come back in some mysterious manner and were more resplendent than before.
“Ah!” said she, with a beaming smile, “now I know what it means when they say, ‘All you give, you will carry with you.’ It was delightful to scatter my gems by the wayside; but I did not think they would all be given back to me when I reached home!”
Then, intwining arms with a bright sylphid, she flew with her over the gardens in a trance of delight.
“Here,” said Little One, “is my own dear garden. I remember the border and thepaths right well; but it never bore such golden fruit, it never glowed with such beautiful flowers.”
“Your fairy, the one you call Whisper, has taken care of it for your sake,” said the sister sylphid. “Do you know that those flowers, and those trees with fruit like ‘bonny beaten gold,’ have been watered by your tears, Little One? It is in this way they have attained their matchless beauty and grace.”
“My tears, little sister?”
“Yes, your tears. Every one you shed upon earth, your fairy most carefully preserved; and see what wonders have been wrought!”
“If I had known that,” said Little One clapping her hands, “I would have beengladof all my troubles! I would have smiled through my tears!”
Now I know no more than I have told of this story of the Lost Sylphid. I tell the tale as ’twas told to me; and I wish, with all my heart, it were true.
Once upon a time, though I cannot tell when, and in what country I do not now remember, there lived a maiden as fair as a lily, as gentle as a dewdrop, and as modest as a violet. A pure, sweet name she had,—it was Blanche.
She stood one evening, with her friend Victor, by the shore of a lake. Never had the youth or maiden seen the moonlight so enchanting; but they did not know
“It was midsummer day,When all the fairy peopleFrom elf-land come away.”
“It was midsummer day,When all the fairy peopleFrom elf-land come away.”
Presently, while they gazed at the lake, which shone like liquid emerald and sapphireand topaz, a boat, laden with strangely beautiful beings, glided towards them across the waters. The fair voyagers were clad in robes of misty blue with white mantles about their waists, and on their heads wreaths of valley-lilies.
They were all as fair as need be; but fairest of all was the helms-woman, the queen of the fairies. Her face was soft and clear like moonlight; and she wore a crown of nine large diamonds, which refracted the evening rays, and formed nine lunar rainbows.
The fairies were singing a roundelay; and, as the melody floated over the waters, Victor and Blanche listened with throbbing hearts. Fairy music has almost passed away from the earth; but those who hear it are strangely moved, and have dreams of beautiful things which have been, and may be again.
“It makes me think of the days of longago when there was no sin,” whispered Blanche.
“It makes me long to be a hero,” answered Victor with a sparkling eye.
All the while the pearly boat was drifting toward the youth and maiden; and, when it had touched the shore, the queen stepped out upon the land as lightly as if she had been made entirely of dewdrops.
“I am Fontana,” said she; “and is this Blanche?”
She laid her soft hand upon the maiden’s shoulder; and Blanche thought she would like to die then and there, so full was she of joy.
“I have heard of thy good heart, my maiden: now what would please thee most?” said the queen.
Blanche bowed her head, and dared not speak.
Queen Fontana smiled: when she smiled it was as if a soft cloud had slid away from the moon, revealing a beautiful light.
“Say pearls and diamonds,” said Victor in her ear.
“I don’t know,” whispered Blanche: “they are not the best things.”
“No,” said the queen kindly: “pearls and diamonds arenotthe best things.”
Then Blanche knew that her whisper had been overheard, and she hid her face in her hands for shame. But the queen only smiled down on her, and, without speaking, dropped into the ground a little seed. Right at the feet of Blanche, it fell; and, in a moment, two green leaves shot upward, and between them a spotless lily, which hung its head with modest grace.
Victor gazed at the perfect flower in wonder, and, before he knew it, said aloud, “Ah, how like Blanche!”
The queen herself broke it from the stem, and gave it to the maiden, saying,—
“Take it! it is my choicest gift. Till it fades (which will never be), love will be thine; and, in time to come, it will have power to open the strongest locks, and swing back the heaviest doors.
“‘Gates of brass cannot withstandOne touch of this magic wand.’”
“‘Gates of brass cannot withstandOne touch of this magic wand.’”
Blanche looked up to thank the queen; but no words came,—only tears.
“I see a wish in thine eyes,” said Fontana.
“It is for Victor,” faltered Blanche, at last: “he wishes to be rich and great.”
The queen looked grave.
“Shall I make him one of the great men of the earth, little Blanche? Then he mayone day go to the ends of the world, and forget thee.”
Blanche only smiled, and Victor’s cheek flushed.
“I shall be a great man,” said he,—“perhaps a prince; but, where I go, Blanche shall go: she will be my wife.”
“That is well,” said the queen: “never forget Blanche, for her love will be your dearest blessing.”
Then, removing from her girdle a pair of spectacles, she placed them in the youth’s hand. He drew back in surprise. “Does she take me for an old man?” thought he. He had expected a casket of gems at least; perhaps a crown.
“Wait,” said Fontana: “they are the eyes of Wisdom. When you have learned their use, you will not despise my gift. Keep a pure heart, and always remember Blanche. And now farewell!”
So saying, she moved on to the boat, floating over the ground as softly as a creeping mist.
When Blanche awoke next morning, her first thought was, “Happy are the maidens who have sweet dreams!” for she thought she had only been wandering in a midsummer’s night’s dream; so, when she saw her lily in the broken pitcher where she had placed it, great was her delight. But a change had come over it during the night. It was no longer a common lily,—its petals were large pearls, and the green leaves were now green emeralds. This strange thing had happened to the flower, that it might never fade.
After this, people looked at Blanche, and said, “How is it? she grows fairer every day!” and every one loved her; for the human heart has no choice but to love what is good and gentle.
As for Victor, he at first put on his spectacles with a scornful smile: but, when he had worn them a moment, he found them very wonderful things. When he looked through them, he could see people’s thoughts written out on their faces; he could easily decipher the fine writing which you see traced on green leaves; and found there were long stories written on pebbles in little black and gray dots.
When he wore the spectacles, he looked so wise, that Blanche hardly dared speak to him. She saw that one day he was to become a great man.
At last Victor said he must leave his home, and sail across the seas. Tears filled the eyes of Blanche; but the youth whispered,—
“I am going away to find a home for you and me: so adieu, dearest Blanche!”
Now Victor thought the ship in which he sailed moved very slowly; for he longed to reach the land which he could see through his magic spectacles: it was a beautiful kingdom, rich with mines of gold and silver.
When the ship touched shore, the streets were lined with people who walked to and fro with sad faces. The king’s daughter, a beautiful young maiden, was very ill; and it was feared she must die.
Victor asked one of the people if there was no hope.
It so happened that this man was the greatest physician in the kingdom and he answered,—
“Alas, there is no hope!”
Then Victor went to a distant forest where he knew a healing spring was to be found. Very few remembered it was there; and those who had seen it did not know of its power to heal disease.
Victor filled a crystal goblet with the precious water, and carried it to the palace. The old king shook his head sadly, but consented to let the attendants moisten the parched lips of the princess with the water, as it could do no harm. Far from doing harm, it wrought a great good; and, in time, the royal maiden was restored to health.
Then, for gratitude, the king would have given his daughter to Victor for a wife; but Victor remembered Blanche, and knew that no other maiden must be bride of his.
Not long after this, the king was lost overboard at sea during a storm. Now the people must have a new ruler. They determined to choose a wise and brave man; and, young as he was, no man could be found braver and wiser than Victor: so the people elected him for their king. Thus Fontana’s gift of the eyes of Wisdom had made him truly “one of the great men of earth.”
In her humble home, Blanche dreamed every night of Victor, and hoped he would grow good, if he did not become great; and Victor remembered Blanche, and knew that her love was his dearest blessing.
“This old palace,” thought he, “will never do for my beautiful bride.”
So he called together his people, and told them he must have a castle of gems. Some of the walls were to be of rubies, some of emeralds, some of pearls. There was to be any amount of beaten gold for doors and pillars; and the ceilings were to be of milk-white opals, with a rosy light which comes and goes.
All was done as he desired; and, when the castle of gems was finished, it would need a pen of jasponyx dipped in rainbows to describe it.
Victor thought he would not have a guardof soldiers for his castle, but would lock the four golden gates with a magic key, so that no one could enter unless the gates should swing back of their own accord.
When the castle of gems was just completed, and not a soul was in it, Victor locked the gates with a magic key, and then dropped the key into the ocean.
“Now,” thought he, “I have done a wise thing. None but the good and true can enter my castle of gems. The gates will not swing open for men with base thoughts or proud hearts!”
Then he hid himself under the shadow of a tree, and watched the people trying to enter. But they were proud men, and so the gates would not open.
King Victor laughed, and said to himself,—
“I have done a wise thing with my magickey. How safe I shall be in my castle of gems!”
So he stepped out of his hiding-place, and said to the people,—
“None but the good and true can get in.”
Then he tried to go in himself; but the gates would not move.
The king bowed his head in shame, and walked back to his old palace.
“Alas!” said he to himself, “wise and great as I am, I thoughtIcould go in. I see it must be because I am filled with pride. Let me hide my face; for what would Blanche say if she knew, that, because my heart is proud, I am shut out of my own castle? I am not worthy that she should love me; but I hope I shall learn of her to be humble and good.”
The next day he sailed for the home of his childhood. When Blanche saw him, sheblushed, and cast down her eyes; but Victor knew they were full of tears of joy. He held her hand, and whispered,—
“Will you go with me and be my bride, beautiful Blanche?”
“I will go with you,” she answered softly; and Victor’s heart rejoiced.
All the while Blanche never dreamed that he was a great prince, and that the men who came with him were his courtiers.
When they reached Victor’s kingdom, and the people shouted “Long live the queen!” Blanche veiled her face, and trembled; for Victor whispered in her ear that the shouts were for her. And, as the people saw her beautiful face through her gossamer veil, they cried all the more loudly,—
“Long live Queen Blanche! Thrice welcome, fair lady!”
The sun was sinking in the west, and hisrays fell with dazzling splendor upon the castle of gems. When Blanche saw the silent, closed castle and its golden gates, she remembered the words of Queen Fontana, who had said that her lily should have power to “open the strongest locks, and swing back the heaviest doors.”
Like one walking in a dream, she led Victor toward the resplendent castle. She touched, with her lily, the lock which fastened one of the gates.