{"collection":"folklore-oral-tradition","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_25405/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_25405","id":"gutenberg_25405","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/25405","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Adventure","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: French Literature","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","Dwarfs -- Juvenile fiction","Fairies -- Juvenile fiction","Fairy tales","Kings and rulers -- Juvenile fiction","Nobel Prizes in Literature"],"text":"Produced by David Widger\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nHONEY-BEE\n\nBy Anatole France\n\nA Translation By Mrs. John Lane\n\nIllustrated By Florence Lundborg\n\nJohn Lane MCMXI\n\n\nTO\n\nH. B. H. DEAR AND LIFE-LONG FRIEND\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\nIt is an honour, but, also, a great responsibility, to introduce through\nthe dangerous medium of a translation one of the most distinguished\nwriters of our time, and, probably, the greatest living master of style,\nto a new world--the world of childhood. One is conscious that it is as\nimpossible to translate the charm and art of Anatole France as it is to\ndescribe in dull, colourless words the exquisite perfume of the rose.\n\nSuch as this translation is I offer it with diffidence, realising that I\nhave undertaken a difficult task. And yet I venture to do so for I long\nto make known to English and American children one of the loveliest and\nnoblest of stories--a story overflowing with poetic imagination, wisdom\nand humour, divine qualities to which the heart of the child is always\nopen as the flower to the dew.\n\nI want young children as well as others, older only by accident of\nyears, but whose hearts are always young--which is the eternal youth--to\nknow the greatest French writer of his day, when, by the magic of his\npen, he, like them, becomes young, gentle and charming. I want them to\nlearn to love his \u201cHoney-Bee,\u201d newest and sweetest of those darlings of\nchildhood who have come down to us from bygone ages, distant lands\nand half-forgotten races, but who in their eternal charm appeal to all\nchildren since children first heard those wonderful stories or pored\nover treasured books that awaken the ardent young imagination to love,\nbeauty, romance and goodness.\n\nSo, too, some day will \u201cHoney-Bee\u201d the golden-haired princess of the\ndear, good dwarfs, join her enchanting companions, Cinderella, Beauty\nand the Beast, Red Riding Hood, The Sleeping Beauty, The Frog Prince,\nPuss in Boots, Aladdin, and all the others of that immortal galaxy\nwhose glorious destiny it has been to be beloved by childhood. May they\nwelcome \u201cHoney-Bee,\u201d youngest of all. And so the Master, supreme when he\nwrites for men and women, will find open to him a new world, purer and\nmore beautiful, in the hearts of English and American children.\n\nA. E. L.\n\n\n\n\n\u201cHONEY-BEE\u201d\n\n\n\n\nI\n\n     Which treats of the appearance of the country and serves as\n     Introduction\n\nThe sea covers to-day what was once the Duchy of Clarides. No trace of\nthe town or the castle remains. But when it is calm there can be seen,\nit is said, within the circumference of a mile, huge trunks of trees\nstanding on the bottom of the sea. A spot on the banks, which now serves\nas a station for the customhouse officers, is still called \u201cThe Tailor\u2019s\nBooth,\u201d and it is quite probable that this name is in memory of a\ncertain Master Jean who is mentioned in this story. The sea, which\nencroaches year by year, will soon cover this spot so curiously named.\n\nSuch changes are in the nature of things. The mountains sink in the\ncourse of ages, and the depths of the seas, on the contrary, rise until\ntheir shells and corals are carried to the regions of clouds and ice.\n\nNothing endures. The face of land and sea is for ever changing.\nTradition alone preserves the memory of men and places across the ages\nand renders real to us what has long ceased to exist. In telling you of\nClarides I wish to take you back to times that have long since vanished.\nThus I begin:\n\nThe Countess of Blanchelande having placed on her golden hair a little\nblack hood embroidered with pearls....\n\nBut before proceeding I must beg very serious persons not to read this.\nIt is not written for them. It is not written for grave people who\ndespise trifles and who always require to be instructed. I only venture\nto offer this to those who like to be entertained, and whose minds are\nboth young and gay. Only those who are amused by innocent pleasures will\nread this to the end. Of these I beg, should they have little children,\nthat they will tell them about my Honey-Bee. I wish this story to please\nboth boys and girls and yet I hardly dare to hope it will. It is\ntoo frivolous for them and, really, only suitable for old-fashioned\nchildren. I have a pretty little neighbour of nine whose library I\nexamined the other day. I found many books on the microscope and the\nzoophytes, as well as several scientific story-books. One of these I\nopened at the following lines: \u201cThe cuttle-fish _Sepia Officinalis_ is\na cephalopodic mollusc whose body includes a spongy organ containing a\nchylaqueous fluid saturated with carbonate of lime.\u201d My pretty little\nneighbour finds this story very interesting. I beg of her, unless she\nwishes me to die of mortification, never to read the story of Honey-Bee.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\n     In which we learn what the white rose meant to the Countess\n     of Blanchelande\n\nHaving placed on her golden hair a little black hood embroidered with\npearls and bound about her waist a widow\u2019s girdle, the Countess of\nBlanchelande entered the chapel where it was her daily custom to pray\nfor the soul of her husband who had been killed in single-handed combat\nwith a giant from Ireland.\n\nThat day she saw a white rose lying on the cushion of her _prie-Dieu_;\nat sight of this she turned pale; her eyes grew dim; she bowed her head\nand wrung her hand. For she knew that when a Countess of Blanchelande is\nabout to die she always finds a white rose on her _prie-Dieu_.\n\nWarned by this that her time had come to leave a world in which in\nso short a time she had been wife, mother and widow, she entered the\nchamber where her son George slept in the care of the nurses. He was\nthree years old. His long eyelashes threw a lovely shadow on his cheeks,\nand his mouth looked like a flower. At sight of him, so helpless and so\nbeautiful, she began to weep.\n\n\u201cMy little child,\u201d she cried in anguish, \u201cmy dear little child, you will\nnever have known me and my image will fade for ever from your dear eyes.\nAnd yet, to be truly your mother, I nourished you with my own milk, and\nfor love of you I refused the hand of the noblest cavaliers.\u201d\n\nSo speaking she kissed a medallion in which was her own portrait and a\nlock of her hair, and this she hung about the neck of her son. A mothers\ntear fell on the little one\u2019s cheek as he stirred in his cradle and\nrubbed his eyes with his little hands. But the Countess turned her head\naway and fled out of the room. How could eyes about to be extinguished\nfor ever bear the light of two dear eyes in which the soul was only\nbeginning to dawn?\n\nShe ordered a steed to be saddled and followed by her squire, Francoeur,\nshe rode to the castle of Clarides.\n\nThe Duchess of Clarides embraced the Countess of Blanchelande.\n\n\u201cLoveliest! what good fortune brings you here?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe fortune that brings me here is not good. Listen, my friend. We were\nmarried within a few years of each other, and similar fates have made\nus widows. For in these times of chivalry the best perish first, and in\norder to live long one must be a monk. When you became a mother I had\nalready been one for two years. Your daughter Honey-Bee is lovely as the\nday, and my little George is good. I love you and you love me. Know then\nthat I have found a white rose on the cushion of my _prie-Dieu_. I am\nabout to die; I leave you my son.\u201d\n\nThe Duchess knew what the white rose meant to the ladies of\nBlanchelande. She began to weep and in the midst of her tears she\npromised to bring up Honey-Bee and George as brother and sister, and to\ngive nothing to one which the other did not share.\n\nStill in each other\u2019s arms the two women approached the cradle where\nlittle Honey-Bee slept under light curtains, blue as the sky, and\nwithout opening her eyes, she moved her little arms. And as she spread\nher fingers five little rosy rays came out of each sleeve.\n\n\u201cHe will defend her,\u201d said the mother of George.\n\n\u201cAnd she will love him,\u201d the mother of Honey-Bee replied.\n\n\u201cShe will love him,\u201d a clear little voice repeated, which the Duchess\nrecognised as that of a spirit which for a long time had lived under the\nhearth-stone.\n\nOn her return to her manor the lady of Blanchelande divided her jewels\namong her women and having had herself anointed with perfumed ointments\nand robed in her richest raiment in order to honour the body destined to\nrise again at the Day of Judgment, she lay down on her bed and fell\nasleep never again to awaken.\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\n     Wherein begins the love of George of Blanchelande and Honey-\n     Bee of Claride\n\nContrary to the common destiny which is to have more goodness than\nbeauty, or more beauty than goodness, the Duchess of Clarides was as\ngood as she was beautiful, and she was so beautiful that many princes,\nthough they had only seen her portrait, demanded her hand in marriage.\nBut to all their pleading she replied:\n\n\u201cI shall have but one husband as I have but one soul.\u201d\n\nHowever, after five years of mourning she left off her long veil and her\nblack robes so as not to spoil the happiness of those about her, and\nin order that all should smile and be free to enjoy themselves in her\npresence. Her duchy comprised a great extent of country; moorlands,\novergrown by heather, covered the desolate expanse, lakes in which\nfishermen sometimes caught magic fish, and mountains which rose in\nfearful solitudes over subterraneous regions inhabited by dwarfs.\n\nShe governed Clarides with the help of an old monk who, having escaped\nfrom Constantinople and seen much violence and treachery, had but little\nfaith in human goodness. He lived in a tower in the company of birds and\nbooks, and from this place he filled his position as counsellor by the\naid of a number of little maxims. His rules were these: \u201cNever revive\na law once fallen into disuse; always accede to the demands of a people\nfor fear of revolt, but accede as slowly as possible, because no sooner\nis one reform granted than the public demands another, and you can be\nturned out for acceding too quickly as well as for resisting too long.\u201d\n\nThe Duchess let him have his own way, for she understood nothing about\npolitics. She was compassionate and, as she was unable to respect all\nmen, she pitied those who were unfortunate enough to be wicked. She\nhelped the suffering in every possible way, visited the sick, comforted\nthe widows, and took the poor orphans under her protection.\n\nShe educated her daughter Honey-Bee with a charming wisdom. Having\nbrought the child up only to do good, she never denied her any pleasure.\n\nThis good woman kept the promise she had made to the poor Countess\nof Blanchelande. She was like a mother to George, and she made no\ndifference between him and Honey-Bee. They grew up together, and George\napproved of Honey-Bee, though he thought her rather small. Once, when\nthey were very little, he went up to her and asked:\n\n\u201cWill you play with me?\u201d\n\n\u201cI should like to,\u201d said Honey-Bee.\n\n\u201cWe will make mud pies,\u201d said George, which they proceeded to do. But\nas Honey-Bee made hers very badly, George struck her fingers with his\nspade. Whereupon Honey-Bee set up a most awful roar and the squire,\nFrancoeur, who was strolling about in the garden, said to his young\nmaster:\n\n\u201cIt is not worthy of a Count of Blanchelande to strike young ladies,\nyour lordship.\u201d\n\nWhereupon George was seized with an ardent desire to hit Francoeur also\nwith his spade. But as this presented insurmountable difficulties, he\nresigned himself to do what was easier, and that was to stand with his\nnose against the trunk of a big tree and weep torrents.\n\nIn the meantime Honey-Bee took care to encourage her own tears by\ndigging her fists into her eyes; and in her despair she rubbed her nose\nagainst the trunk of a neighbouring tree. When night came and softly\ncovered the earth, Honey-Bee and George were still weeping, each in\nfront of a tree. The Duchess of Clarides was obliged to come and take\nher daughter by one hand and George by the other, and lead them back\nto the castle. Their eyes were red and their noses were red and their\ncheeks shone. They sighed and sobbed enough to break one\u2019s heart. But\nthey ate a good supper, after which they were both put to bed. But as\nsoon as the candle was blown out they re-appeared like two little ghosts\nin two little night-gowns, and they hugged each other and laughed at the\ntop of their voices.\n\nAnd thus began the love of Honey-Bee of Clarides and George of\nBlanchelande.\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\n     Which treats of Education in general, and George of Blanche\n     lande\u2019s in particular\n\nSo George grew up in the Castle side by side with Honey-Bee, whom he\naffectionately called his sister though he knew she was not.\n\nHe had masters in fencing, riding, swimming, gymnastics, dancing,\nhunting, falconry, tennis, and, indeed, in all the arts. He even had a\nwriting-master. This was an old cleric, humble of manner but very proud\nwithin, who taught him all manner of penmanship, and the more beautiful\nthis was the less decipherable it became. Very little pleasure or profit\ndid George get out of the old cleric\u2019s lessons, as little as out of\nthose of an old monk who taught him grammar in barbarous terms. George\ncould not understand the sense of learning a language which one knows as\na matter of course and which is called one\u2019s mother tongue.\n\nHe only enjoyed himself with Francoeur the squire, who, having knocked\nabout the world, understood the ways of men and beasts, could describe\nall sorts of countries and compose songs which he could not write.\nFrancoeur was the only one of his masters who taught George anything,\nfor he was the only one who really loved him, and the only good lessons\nare those which are given with love. The two old goggle-eyes, the\nwriting-master and the grammar-master, who hated each other with all\ntheir hearts, were, however, united in a common hatred of the old\nsquire, whom they accused of being a drunkard.\n\nIt is true that Francoeur frequented the tavern \u201cThe Pewter Pot\u201d\n somewhat too zealously. It was here that he forgot his sorrows and\ncomposed his songs. But of course it was very wrong of him.\n\nHomer made better verses than Francoeur, and Homer only drank the water\nof the springs. As for sorrows the whole world has sorrows, and the\nthing to make one forget them is not the wine one drinks, but the good\none does. But Francoeur was an old man grown grey in harness, faithful\nand trustworthy, and the two masters of writing and grammar should\nhave hidden his failings from the duchess instead of giving her an\nexaggerated account of them.\n\n\u201cFrancoeur is a drunkard,\u201d said the writing-master, \u201cand when he comes\nback from \u2018The Pewter Pot\u2019 he makes a letter S as he walks. Moreover,\nit is the only letter he has ever made; because if it please your Grace,\nthis drunkard is an ass.\u201d\n\nThe grammar-master added, \u201cAnd the songs Francoeur sings as he staggers\nabout err against all rules and are constructed on no model at all. He\nignores all the rules of rhetoric, please your Grace.\u201d\n\nThe Duchess had a natural distaste for pedants and tale-bearers. She did\nwhat we all would have done in her place; at first she did not listen to\nthem but as they again began to repeat their tittle-tattle, she ended by\nbelieving them and decided to send Francoeur away. However, to give him\nan honourable exile, she sent him to Rome to obtain the blessing of the\nPope. This journey was all the longer for Francoeur the squire because\na great many taverns much frequented by musicians separated the duchy\nof Clarides from the holy apostolic seat. In the course of this story\nwe shall see how soon the Duchess regretted having deprived the two\nchildren of their most faithful guardian.\n\n\n\n\nV\n\n     Which tells how the Duchess took Honeybee and George to the\n     Hermitage, and of their encounter with a hideous old woman\n\nThat morning, it was the first Sunday after Easter, the Duchess rode out\nof the castle on her great sorrel horse, while on? her left George of\nBlanchelande was mounted on a dark horse with a white star on his black\nforehead, and on her right Honey-Bee guided her milk-white steed with\nrose-coloured reins. They were on their way to the Hermitage to hear\nmass. Soldiers armed with lances formed their escort and, as they\npassed, the people crowded forward to admire them, and, indeed, all\nthree were very fair to see. Under a veil of silver flowers and with\nflowing mantle the Duchess had an air of lovely majesty; while the\npearls with which her coif was embroidered shone with a soft radiance\nthat well-suited the face and soul of this beautiful lady. George by her\nside with flowing hair and sparkling eyes was very good to see. And on\nthe other side rode Honey-Bee, the tender and pure colour of her face\nlike a caress for the eyes; but most glorious of all her fair tresses,\nflowing over her shoulders, held by a circlet of gold surmounted by\nthree gold flowers, seemed the shining mantle of her youth and beauty.\nThe good people said, on seeing her:\n\n\u201cWhat a lovely young damsel.\u201d\n\nThe master tailor, old Jean, took his grandson Peter in his arms to\npoint out |Honey-Bce to him, and Peter asked was she alive or was she an\nimage of wax, for he could not understand how any one could be so white\nand so lovely, and yet belong to the same race as himself, little Peter\nwith his good big weather-beaten cheeks, and his little home-spun shirt\nlaced behind in country fashion.\n\nWhile the Duchess accepted the people\u2019s homage with gracious kindness,\nthe two children showed how it gratified their pride, George by his\nblushes, Honey-Bee by her smiles, and for this reason the Duchess said\nto them:\n\n\u201cHow kindly these good people greet us. For what reason, George? And\nwhat is the reason, Honey-Bee?\u201d\n\n\u201cSo they should,\u201d said Honey-Bee.\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s their duty,\u201d George added.\n\n\u201cBut why should it be their duty?\u201d asked the Duchess.\n\nAnd as neither replied, she continued:\n\n\u201cI will tell you. For more than three hundred years the dukes of\nClarides, from father to son, have lance in hand protected these poor\npeople so that they could gather the harvests of the fields they had\nsown. For more than three hundred years all the duchesses of Clarides\nhave spun the cloth for the poor, have visited the sick, and have held\nthe new-born at the baptismal font. That is the reason they greet you,\nmy children.\u201d\n\nGeorge was lost in deep thought: \u201cWe must protect those who toil on the\nland,\u201d and Honcy-Bee said: \u201cOne should spin for the poor.\u201d\n\nAnd thus chatting and meditating they went on their way through meadows\nstarred with flowers. A fringe of blue mountains lay against the distant\nhorizon. George pointed towards the east.\n\n\u201cIs that a great steel shield I see over there?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh no,\u201d said Honey-Bee, \u201cit\u2019s a round silver clasp, as big as the\nmoon.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is neither a steel shield nor a silver clasp, my children,\u201d replied\nthe Duchess, \u201cbut a lake glittering in the sunshine. The surface of\nthis lake, which seen from here is as smooth as a mirror, is stirred by\ninnumerable ripples. Its borders which appear as distinct as it cut in\nmetal are really covered by reeds with feathery plumes and irises\nwhose flower is like a human glance between the blades of swords. Every\nmorning a white mist rises over the lake which shines like armour under\nthe midday sun. But none must approach it for in it dwell the nixies who\nlure passers by into their crystal abodes.\u201d\n\nAt this moment the bell of the Hermitage was heard.\n\n\u201cLet us dismount,\u201d said the Duchess, \u201cand walk to the chapel. It was\nneither on elephants nor camels that the wise men of the East approached\nthe manger.\u201d\n\nThey heard the hermit\u2019s mass. A hideous old crone covered with rags\nknelt beside the Duchesss, who on leaving the church offered her holy\nwater.\n\n\u201cAccept it, good mother,\u201d she said.\n\nGeorge was amazed.\n\n\u201cDo you not know,\u201d said the Duchess, \u201cthat in the poor you honour the\nchosen of our Lord Jesus Christ? A beggar such as this as well as the\ngood Duke of Rochesnoires held you at the font when you were baptized;\nand your little sister, Honey-Bee, also had one of these poor creatures\nas godmother.\u201d\n\nThe old crone who seemed to have guessed the boy\u2019s thoughts leaned\ntowards him.\n\n\u201cFair prince,\u201d she cried mockingly, \u201cmay you conquer as many kingdoms as\nI have lost. I was the queen of the Island of Pearls and the Mountains\nof Gold; each day my table was served with fourteen different kinds of\nfish, and a negro page bore my train.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd by what misfortune have you lost your islands and your mountains,\ngood woman?\u201d asked the Duchess.\n\n\u201cI vexed the dwarfs, and they carried me far away from my dominions.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre the dwarfs so powerful?\u201d George asked.\n\n\u201cAs they live in the earth,\u201d the old woman answered, \u201cthey know the\nvirtue of precious stones, they work in metals, and they unseal the\nhidden sources of the springs.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what did you do to vex them?\u201d asked the Duchess.\n\n\u201cOn a December night,\u201d said the old woman, \u201cone of them came to ask\npermission to prepare a great midnight banquet in the kitchen of\nthe castle, which, vaster than a chapter-house, was furnished\nwith casseroles, frying-pans, earthen saucepans, kettles, pans,\nportable-ovens, gridirons, boilers, dripping-pans, dutch-ovens,\nfish-kettles, copper-pans, pastry-moulds, copper-jugs, goblets of\ngold and silver, and mottled wood, not to mention iron roasting-jacks,\nartistically forged, and the huge black cauldron which hung from the\npothook. He promised neither to disturb nor to damage anything. I\nrefused his request, and he disappeared muttering vague threats. The\nthird night, it being Christmas, this same dwarf returned to the chamber\nwhere I slept. He was accompanied by innumerable others, who pulled me\nout of bed and carried me to an unknown land in my nightgown. \u2018Such,\u2019\nthey said as they left me, \u2018such is the punishment of the rich who\nrefuse even a part of their treasure to the industrious and kindly dwarf\nfolk who work in gold and cause the springs to flow.\u2019\u201d\n\nThus said the toothless old woman, and the Duchess having comforted her\nwith words and money, she and the two children retraced their way to the\ncastle.\n\n\n\n\nVI\n\n     Which tells of what can be seen from the Keep of Clarides\n\nIt was one day shortly after this that Honey-Bee and George, without\nbeing observed, climbed the steps of the watch-tower which stands in\nthe middle of the Castle of Clarides. Having reached the platform they\nshouted at the top of their voices and clapped their hands.\n\nTheir view extended down the hillside divided into brown and green\nsquares of cultivated fields. Woods and mountains lay dimly blue against\nthe distant horizon.\n\n\u201cLittle sister,\u201d cried George, \u201clittle sister, look at the whole wide\nworld!\u201d\n\n\u201cThe world is very big,\u201d said Honey-Bee. \u201cMy teachers,\u201d said George,\n\u201chave taught me that it is very big; but, as Gertrude our housekeeper\nsays, one must see to believe.\u201d\n\nThey went the round of the platform.\n\n\u201cHere is something wonderful, little brother,\u201d cried Honey-Bee. \u201cThe\ncastle stands in the middle of the earth and we are on the watch-tower\nin the middle of the castle, and so we are standing in the middle of the\nearth. Ha! ha! ha!\u201d\n\nAnd, indeed, the horizon formed a circle about the children of which the\nwatch-tower was the centre.\n\n\u201cWe are in the middle of the earth! Ha! ha! ha!\u201d George repeated.\n\nWhereupon they both started a-thinking.\n\n\u201cWhat a pity that the world is so big!\u201d said Honey-Bee, \u201cone might get\nlost and be separated from one\u2019s friends.\u201d\n\nGeorge shrugged his shoulders.\n\n\u201cHow lucky that the world is so big! One can go in search of adventures.\nWhen I am grown up I mean to conquer the mountains that stand at the\nends of the earth. That is where the moon rises; I shall seize her as\nshe passes, and I will give her to you, Honey-Bee.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Honey-Bee, \u201cgive her to me and I will put her in my hair.\u201d\n\nThen they busied themselves searching for the places they knew as on a\nmap.\n\n\u201cI recognise everything,\u201d said Honey-Bee, who recognised nothing, \u201cbut\nwhat are those little square stones scattered over the hillside?\u201d\n\n\u201cHouses,\u201d George replied. \u201cThose are houses. Don\u2019t you recognise the\ncapital of the Duchy of Clarides, little sister? After all, it is a\ngreat city; it has three streets, and one can drive through one of them.\nDon\u2019t you remember that we passed through it last week when we went to\nthe Hermitage?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what is that winding brook?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is the river. See the old stone bridge down there?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe bridge under which we fished for crayfish?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s the one; and in one of the niches stands the statue of the\n\u2018Woman without a Head.\u2019 One cannot see her from here because she is too\nsmall.\u201d\n\n\u201cI remember. But why hasn\u2019t she got a head?\u201d\n\n\u201cProbably because she has lost it.\u201d\n\nWithout saying if this explanation was satisfactory, Honey-Bee gazed at\nthe horizon.\n\n\u201cLittle brother, little brother, just see what sparkles by the side of\nthe blue mountains? It is the lake.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is the lake.\u201d\n\nThey then remembered what the Duchess had told them of these beautiful\nand dangerous waters where the nixies dwell.\n\n\u201cWe will go there,\u201d said Honey-Bee.\n\nGeorge was aghast. He stared at her with his mouth wide open.\n\n\u201cBut the Duchess has forbidden us to go out alone, so how can we go to\nthis lake which is at the end of the earth?\u201d\n\n\u201cHow can we go? I don\u2019t know. It\u2019s you who ought to know, for you are a\nman and you have a grammar-master.\u201d\n\nThis piqued George who replied that one might be a man, and even a very\nbrave man, and yet not know all the roads on earth. Whereupon Honey-Bee\nsaid drily with a little air of scorn which made him blush to his ears:\n\n\u201cI never said _I_ would conquer the blue mountains or take down the\nmoon. I don\u2019t know the way to the lake, but I mean to find it!\u201d\n\nGeorge pretended to laugh.\n\n\u201cYou laugh like a cucumber.\u201d\n\n\u201cCucumbers neither laugh nor cry.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf they did laugh they would laugh like you. I shall go along to the\nlake. And while I search for the beautiful waters in which the nixies\nlive you shall stay alone at home like a good girl. I will leave you my\nneedle-work and my doll. Take care of them, George, take good care of\nthem.\u201d\n\nGeorge was proud, and he was conscious of the humiliation with which\nHoney-Bee covered him.\n\nGloomily and with head bowed he cried in a hollow voice:\n\n\u201cVery well, then, we will go to the lake.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nVII\n\n     In which is described how George and Honey-Bee went to the\n     lake\n\nThe next day after the midday meal, the Duchess having gone to her own\nroom George took Honey-Bee by the hand. \u201cNow come!\u201d he said. \u201cWhere?\u201d\n \u201cHush!\u201d\n\nThey crept down stairs and crossed the courtyard. After they had passed\nthe postern, Honey-Bee again asked where they were going.\n\n\u201cTo the lake,\u201d George said resolutely. Honey-Bee opened her mouth wide\nbut remained speechless. To go so far without permission and in satin\nshoes! For her shoes were of satin. There was no sense in it.\n\n\u201cWe must go and there is no need to be sensible.\u201d\n\nSuch was George\u2019s proud reply. She had once humiliated him and now she\npretended to be astonished.\n\nThis time it was he who disdainfully sent her back to her dolls. Girls\nalways tempt one on to adventures and then run away. So mean! She could\nremain. He\u2019d go alone.\n\nShe clung to his arm; he pushed her away.\n\nShe hung about his neck.\n\n\u201cLittle brother,\u201d she sobbed, \u201cI will follow you.\u201d\n\nHe allowed himself to be moved by such touching repentance.\n\n\u201cCome then, but not through the town; we may be seen. We will follow the\nramparts and then we can reach the highway by a cross road.\u201d\n\nAnd so they went hand in hand while George explained his plans.\n\n\u201cWe will follow the road we took to the Hermitage and then we shall\nbe sure to see the lake, just as we did the other day, and then we can\ncross the fields in a bee line.\u201d\n\n\u201cA bee line\u201d is the pretty rustic way of saying a straight line; and\nthey both laughed because of the young girl\u2019s name which fitted in so\noddly.\n\nHoney-Bee picked flowers along the ditches; she made a posy of\nmarshmallows, white mullein, asters and chrysanthemums; the flowers\nfaded in her little hands and it was pitiful to see them when Honey-Bee\ncrossed the old stone bridge. As she did not know what to do with them\nshe decided to throw them into the water to refresh them, but finally\nshe preferred to give them to the \u201cWoman without a head.\u201d\n\nShe begged George to lift her in his arms so as to make her tall enough,\nand she placed her armful of wild flowers between the folded hands of\nthe old stone figure.\n\nAfter she was far away she looked back and saw a pigeon resting on the\nshoulder of the statue.\n\nWhen they had been walking some time, said Honey-bee, \u201cI am thirsty.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo am I,\u201d George replied, \u201cbut the river is far behind us, and I see\nneither brook nor fountain.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe sun is so hot that he has drunk them all up. What shall we do?\u201d\n\nSo they talked and lamented when they saw a peasant woman approach who\ncarried a basket of fruit.\n\n\u201cCherries!\u201d cried George. \u201cHow unlucky: I have no money to buy any.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have money,\u201d said Honey-Bee.\n\nShe pulled out of her pocket a little purse in which were five pieces of\ngold.\n\n\u201cGood woman,\u201d she said to the peasant, \u201cwill you give me as many\ncherries as my frock will hold?\u201d\n\nAnd she raised her little skirt with her two hands. The woman threw\nin two or three handfuls of cherries. With one hand Honey-Bee held the\nuplifted skirt and with the other she offered the woman a gold piece.\n\n\u201cIs that enough?\u201d\n\nThe woman clutched the gold piece which would amply have paid not only\nfor the cherries in the basket but for the tree on which they grew and\nthe plot of land on which the tree stood.\n\nThe artful one replied:\n\n\u201cI\u2019m satisfied, if only to oblige you, little princess.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell then, put some more cherries in my brother\u2019s cap,\u201d said Honey-Bee,\n\u201cand you shall have another gold piece.\u201d\n\nThis was done. The peasant woman went on her way meditating in what old\nstocking or under what mattress she should hide her two gold pieces.\n\nAnd the two children followed the road eating the cherries and throwing\nthe stones to the right and the left. George chose the cherries that\nhung two by two on one stem and made earrings for his little sister,\nand he laughed to see the lovely twin fruit dangle its vermillion beauty\nagainst her cheeks.\n\nA pebble stopped their joyous progress. It had got into Honey-Bee\u2019s\nlittle shoe and she began to limp. At every step she took, her golden\ncurls bobbed against her cheek, and so limping she sat down on a bank\nby the roadside. Her brother knelt down and took off the satin shoe. He\nshook it and out dropped a little white pebble.\n\n\u201cLittle brother,\u201d she said as she looked at her feet, \u201cthe next time we\ngo to the lake we\u2019ll put on boots.\u201d\n\nThe sun was already sinking against the radiant sky; a soft breeze\ncaressed their cheeks and necks, and so, cheered and refreshed, the two\nlittle travellers proceeded on their way. To make walking easier they\nwent hand in hand, and they laughed to see their moving shadows melt\ntogether before them. They sang:\n\n    Maid Marian, setting forth to find\n    The mill, with sacks of corn to grind,\n        Her donkey, Jan, bestrode.\n    My dainty maiden, Marian,\n    She mounted on her donkey, Jan,\n        And took the mill-ward road.*\n\n\n     * Marian\u2019 s\u2019en allant au moulin,\n     Pour y faire moudre son grain,\n          Ell monta sur son \u00e2ne,\n     Ma p\u2019tite mam\u2019sell\u2019 Marianne!\n     Ell\u2019 monta sur son \u00e2ne Martin\n          Pour aller au moulin.\n\n\n\nBut Honey-Bee stopped:\n\n\u201cI have lost my shoe, my satin shoe,\u201d she cried. And so it was. The\nlittle shoe, whose silken laces had become loose in walking, lay in the\nroad covered-with dust. Then as she looked back and saw the towers of\nthe castle of Clarides fade into the distant twilight her heart sank and\nthe tears came to her eyes.\n\n\u201cThe wolves will eat us,\u201d she cried, \u201cand our mother will never see us\nagain and she will die of grief.\u201d\n\nBut George comforted her as he put on her shoe.\n\n\u201cWhen the castle bell rings for supper we shall have returned to\nClarides. Come!\u201d\n\n    The miller saw her coming nigh\n    And could not well forbear to cry,\n        Your donkey you must tether.\n    My dainty maiden, Marian,\n    Tether you here your donkey, Jan,\n        Who brought us twain together.*\n\n\n    * Le meunier qui la voit venir\n    Ne peut s\u2019emp\u00eacher de lui dire:\n        Attachez l\u00e0 votre \u00e2ne,\n    Ma p\u2019tite Mam\u2019sell\u2019 Marianne,\n    Attachez l\u00e0 votre \u00e2ne Martin\n        Qui vous m\u00e8ne au moulin.\n\n\u201cThe lake, Honey-Bee! See the lake, the lake, the lake!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, George, the lake!\u201d\n\nGeorge shouted \u201churrah\u201d and flung his hat in the air. Honey-Bee was too\nproper to fling hers up also, so taking off the shoe that wouldn\u2019t stay\non she threw it joyfully over her head.\n\nThere lay the lake in the depths of the valley and its curved and\nsloping banks made a framework of foliage and flowers about its silver\nwaves. It lay there clear and tranquil, and one could see the swaying of\nthe indistinct green of its banks.\n\nBut the children could find no path through the underbrush that would\nlead to its beautiful waters.\n\nWhile they were searching for one their legs were nipped by some geese\ndriven by a little girl dressed in a sheepskin and carrying a switch.\nGeorge asked her name.\n\n\u201cGilberte.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then, Gilberte, how can one go to the lake?\u201d\n\n\u201cFolks doesn\u2019t go.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause...\u201d\n\n\u201cBut supposing folks did?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf folks did there\u2019d be a path, and one would take that path.\u201d\n\nGeorge could think of no adequate reply to this guardian of the geese.\n\n\u201cLet\u2019s go,\u201d he said, \u201cfarther on we shall be sure to find a way through\nthe woods.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd we will pick nuts and eat them,\u201d said Honey-Bee, \u201cfor I am hungry.\nThe next time we go to the lake we must bring a satchel full of good\nthings to eat.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat we will, little sister,\u201d said George. \u201cAnd I quite agree with\nFrancoeur, our squire, who when he went to Rome, took a ham with him, in\ncase he should hunger, and a flask lest he should be thirsty. But hurry,\nfor it is growing late, though I don\u2019t know the time.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe shepherdesses know by looking at the sun,\u201d said Honey-Bee; \u201cbut I\nam not a shepherdess. Yet it seems to me that when we left the sun was\nover our head, and now it is down there, far behind the town and castle\nof Clarides. I wonder if this happens every day and what it means?\u201d\n\nWhile they looked at the sun a cloud of dust rose up from the high road,\nand they saw some cavaliers with glittering weapons ride past at full\nspeed. The children hid in the underbrush in great terror. \u201cThey are\nthieves or probably ogres,\u201d they thought. They were really guards sent\nby the Duchess of Clarides in search of the little truants.\n\nThe two little adventurers found a footpath in the underbrush, not a\nlovers\u2019 lane, for it was impossible to walk side by side holding hands\nas is the fashion of lovers. Nor could the print of human footsteps be\nseen, but only indentations left by innumerable tiny cloven feet.\n\n\u201cThose are the feet of little devils,\u201d said Honey-Bee.\n\n\u201cOr deer,\u201d suggested George.\n\nThe matter was never explained. But what is certain is that the footpath\ndescended in a gentle slope towards the edge of the lake which lay\nbefore the two children in all its languorous and silent beauty. The\nwillows surrounded its banks with their tender foliage. The slender\nblades of the reeds with their delicate plumes swayed lightly over the\nwater. They formed tremulous islands about which the water-lilies spread\ntheir great heart-shaped leaves and snow-white flowers. Over these\nblossoming islands dragon-flies, all emerald or azure, with wings of\nflame, sped their shrill flight in suddenly altered curves.\n\nThe children plunged their burning feet with joy in the damp sand\novergrown with tufted horse-tails and the reed-mace with its slender\nlance. The sweet flag wafted towards them its humble fragrance and the\nwater plantain unrolled about them its filaments of lace on the margin\nof the sleeping waters which the willow-herb starred with its purple\nflowers.\n\n\n\n\nVIII\n\n     Wherein we shall see what happened to George of Blanchelande\n     because he approached the lake in which the nixies dwel\n\nHoney-Bee crossed the sand between two clumps of willows, and the little\nspirit of the place leaped into the water in front of her, leaving\ncircles that grew greater and greater and finally vanished. This spirit\nwas a little green frog with a white belly. All was silent; a fresh\nbreeze swept over the clear lake whose every ripple had the gracious\ncurve of a smile.\n\n\u201cThis lake is pretty,\u201d said Honey-Bee, \u201cbut my feet are bleeding in\nmy little torn shoes, and I am very hungry. I wish I were back in the\ncastle.\u201d\n\n\u201cLittle sister,\u201d said George, \u201csit down on the grass. I will wrap your\nfeet in leaves to cool them; then I will go in search of supper for you.\nHigh up along the road I saw some ripe blackberries. I will fetch you\nthe sweetest and best in my hat. Give me your handkerchief; I will fill\nit with strawberries, for there are strawberries near here along the\nfootpath under the shade of the trees. And I will fill my pockets with\nnuts.\u201d\n\nHe made a bed of moss for Honey-Bee under a willow on the edge of the\nlake, and then he left her.\n\nHoney-Bee lay with folded hands on her little mossy bed and watched the\nlight of the first stars tremble in the pale sky; then her eyes half\nclosed, and yet it seemed to her as if overhead she saw a little dwarf\nmounted on a raven. It was not fancy. For having reined in the black\nbird who was gnawing at the bridle, the dwarf stopped just above the\nyoung girl and stared down at her with his round eyes. Whereupon he\ndisappeared at full gallop. All this Honey-Bee saw vaguely and then she\nfell asleep.\n\nShe was still asleep when George returned with the fruit he had\ngathered, which he placed at her side. Then he climbed down to the lake\nwhile he waited for her to awaken. The lake slept under its delicate\ncrown of verdure. A light mist swept softly over the waters. Suddenly\nthe moon appeared between the branches, and then the waves were strewn\nas if with countless stars.\n\nBut George could see that the lights which irradiated the waters were\nnot all the broken reflections of the moon, for blue flames advanced in\ncircles, swaying and undulating as if in a dance. Soon he saw that the\nblue flames flickered over the white faces of women, beautiful faces\nrising on the crests of the waves and crowned with sea-weeds and\nsea-shells, with sea-green tresses floating over their shoulders and\nveils flowing from under their breasts that shimmered with pearls. The\nchild recognised the nixies and tried to flee. But already their cold\nwhite arms had seized him, and in spite of his struggles and cries he\nwas borne across the waters along the galleries of porphyry and crystal.\n\n\n\n\nIX\n\n     Wherein we shall see how Honey-Bee was taken to the dwarfs\n\nThe moon had risen over the lake and the water now only showed broken\nreflections of its disc. Honey-Bee still slept. The dwarf who had\nwatched her came back again on his raven followed this time by a crowd\nof little men. They were very little men. Their white beards hung down\nto their knees. They looked like old men with the figures of children.\nBy their leathern aprons and the hammers which hung from their belts one\ncould see that they were workers in metals. They had a curious gait,\nfor they leaped to amazing heights and turned the most extraordinary\nsomersaults, and showed the most inconceivable agility that made them\nseem more like spirits than human beings.\n\nYet while cutting their most foolhardy capers they preserved an\nunalterable gravity of demeanour, to such a degree that it was quite\nimpossible to make out their real characters.\n\nThey placed themselves in a circle about the sleeping child.\n\n\u201cNow then,\u201d said the smallest of the dwarfs from the heights of his\nplumed charger; \u201cnow then, did I deceive you when I said that the\nloveliest of princesses was lying asleep on the borders of the lake, and\ndo you not thank me for bringing you here?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe thank you, Bob,\u201d replied one of the dwarfs who looked like an\nelderly poet, \u201cindeed there is nothing lovelier in the world than\nthis young damsel. She is more rosy than the dawn which rises on the\nmountains, and the gold we forge is not so bright as the gold of her\ntresses.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery good, Pic, nothing can be truer,\u201d cried the dwarfs, \u201cbut what\nshall we do with this lovely little lady?\u201d\n\nPic, who looked like a very elderly poet, did not reply to this\nquestion, probably because he knew no better than they what to do with\nthis pretty lady.\n\n\u201cLet us build a large cage and put her in,\u201d a dwarf by the name of Rug\nsuggested.\n\nAgainst this another dwarf called Dig vehemently protested. It was Dig\u2019s\nopinion that only wild beasts were ever put into cages, and there was\nnothing yet to prove that the pretty lady was one of these.\n\nBut Rug clung to his idea for the reason possibly that he had no other.\nHe defended it with much subtlety. Said he:\n\n\u201cIf this person is not savage she will certainly become so as a result\nof the cage, which will be therefore not only useful but indispensable.\u201d\n\nThis reasoning displeased the dwarfs, and one of them named Tad\ndenounced it with much indignation. He was such a good dwarf. He\nproposed to take the beautiful child back to her kindred who must be\ngreat nobles.\n\nBut this advice was rejected as being contrary to the custom of the\ndwarfs.\n\n\u201cWe ought to follow the ways of justice not custom,\u201d said Tad.\n\nBut no one paid any further attention to him and the assembly broke into\na tumult as a dwarf named Pau, a simple soul but just, gave his advice\nin these terms:\n\n\u201cWe must begin by awakening this young lady, seeing she declines to\nawake of herself; if she spends the night here her eyelids will be\nswollen to-morrow and her beauty will be much impaired, for it is very\nunhealthy to sleep in a wood on the borders of a lake.\u201d\n\nThis opinion met with general approval as it did not clash with any\nother.\n\nPic, who looked like an elderly poet burdened with care, approached the\nyoung girl and looked at her very intently, under the impression that a\nsingle one of his glances would be quite sufficient to rouse the dreamer\nout of the deepest sleep. But Pic was quite mistaken as to the power of\nhis glance, for Honey-Bee continued to sleep with folded hands.\n\nSeeing this the good Tad pulled her gently by her sleeve. Thereupon she\npartly opened her eyes and raised herself on her elbow. When she found\nherself lying on a bed of moss surrounded by dwarfs she thought what she\nsaw was nothing but a dream, and she rubbed her eyes to open them, so\nthat instead of this fantastic vision she should see the pure light of\nmorning as it entered her little blue room in which she thought she was.\nFor her mind, heavy with sleep, did not recall to her the adventure of\nthe lake. But indeed, it was useless to rub her eyes, the dwarfs did not\nvanish, and so she was obliged to believe that they were real.\n\nThen she looked about with frightened eyes and saw the forest and\nremembered.\n\n\u201cGeorge! my brother George!\u201d she cried in anguish. The dwarfs crowded\nabout her, and for fear of seeing them she hid her face in her hands.\n\n\u201cGeorge! George! Where is my brother George?\u201d she sobbed.\n\nThe dwarfs could not tell her, for the good reason that they did not\nknow. And she wept hot tears and cried aloud for her mother and brother.\n\nPau longed to weep with her, and in his efforts to console, he addressed\nher with rather vague remarks.\n\n\u201cDo not distress yourself so much,\u201d he urged, \u201cit would be a pity for\nso lovely a young damsel to spoil her eyes with weeping. Rather tell\nus your story, which cannot fail to be very amusing. We should be so\npleased.\u201d\n\nShe did not listen. She rose and tried to escape. But her bare and\nswollen feet caused her such pain that she fell on her knees, sobbing\nmost pitifully. Tad held her in his arms, and Pau tenderly kissed her\nhand. It was this that gave her the courage to look at them, and she saw\nthat they seemed full of compassion.\n\nPic looked to her like one inspired, and yet very innocent, and\nperceiving that all these little men were full of compassion for her,\nshe said:\n\n\u201cLittle men, it is a pity you are so ugly; but I will love you all the\nsame if you will only give me something to eat, for I am so hungry.\u201d\n\n\u201cBob,\u201d all the dwarfs cried at once, \u201cgo and fetch some supper.\u201d\n\nAnd Bob flew off on his raven. All the same, the dwarfs resented this\nsmall girl\u2019s injustice in finding them ugly. Rug was very angry. Pic\nsaid to himself, \u201cShe is only a child, and she does not see the light\nof genius which shines in my eyes, and which gives them the power which\ncrushes as well as the grace which charms.\u201d\n\nAs for Pau, he thought to himself: \u201cPerhaps it would have been better\nif I had not awakened this young lady who finds us ugly.\u201d But Tad said\nsmiling:\n\n\u201cYou will find us less ugly, dear young lady, when you love us more.\u201d\n\nAs he spoke Bob re-appeared on his raven. He held a dish of gold on\nwhich were a roast pheasant, an oatmeal cake, and a bottle of claret. He\ncut innumerable capers as he laid this supper at the feet of Honey-Bee.\n\n\u201cLittle men,\u201d Honey-Bee said as she ate, \u201cyour supper is very good. My\nname is Honey-Bee; let us go in search of my brother, and then we\nwill all go together to Clarides where mama is waiting for us in great\nanxiety.\u201d\n\nBut Dig, who was a kind dwarf, represented to Honey-Bee that she was not\nable to walk; that her brother was big enough to find his own way;\nthat no misfortune could come to him in a country in which all the wild\nbeasts had been destroyed.\n\n\u201cWe will make a litter,\u201d he added, \u201cand cover it with leaves and moss,\nand we will put you on it, and in this way we will carry you to the\nmountain and present you to the King of the Dwarfs, according to the\ncustom of our people.\u201d\n\nAll the dwarfs applauded. Honey-Bee looked at her aching feet and\nremained silent. She was glad to learn that there were no wild beasts\nin the country. And on the whole she was willing to trust herself to the\nkindness of the dwarfs.\n\nThey were already busy constructing the litter. Those with hatchets were\nfelling two young fir trees with resounding blows. This brought back to\nRug his original suggestion.\n\n\u201cIf instead of a litter we made a cage,\u201d he urged.\n\nBut he aroused a unanimous protest. Tad looked at him scornfully.\n\n\u201cYou are more like a human being than a dwarf, Rug,\u201d he said. \u201cBut at\nleast it is to the honour of our race that the most wicked dwarf is also\nthe most stupid.\u201d\n\nIn the meantime the task had been accomplished. The dwarfs leaped into\nthe air and in a bound seized and cut the branches, out of which they\ndeftly wove a basket chair. Having covered it with moss and leaves, they\nplaced Honey-Bee upon it, then they seized the two poles, placed them on\ntheir shoulders and, then! off they went to the mountain.\n\n\n\n\nX\n\n     In which we are faithfully told how King Loc received Honey-\n     Bee of Clarides\n\nThey climbed a winding path along the wooded slope of the hill. Here and\nthere granite boulders, bare and blasted, broke through the grey verdure\nof the dwarf oaks, and the sombre purple mountain with its bluish\nravines formed an impassable barrier about the desolate landscape.\n\nThe procession, preceded by Bob on his feathered steed, passed through\na chasm overgrown with brambles. Honey-Bee, with her golden hair flowing\nover her shoulders, looked like the dawn breaking on the mountains,\nsupposing, of course, that the dawn was ever frightened and called her\nmother and tried to escape, for all these things she did as she caught\na confused glimpse of dwarfs, armed to the teeth, lying in ambush along\nthe windings of the rocks.\n\nWith bows bent or lance at rest they stood immovable. Their tunics of\nwild beast skins and their long knives that hung from their belts gave\nthem a most terrible appearance. Game, furred and feathered, lay beside\nthem. And yet these huntsmen, to judge only by their faces, did not\nseem very grim; on the contrary, they appeared gentle and grave like the\ndwarfs of the forest, whom they greatly resembled.\n\nIn their midst stood a dwarf full of majesty. He wore a cock feather\nover his ear, and on his head a diadem set with enormous gems. His\nmantle raised at the shoulder disclosed a muscular arm covered with\ncirclets of gold. A horn of ivory and chased silver hung from his belt.\nHis left hand rested on his lance in an attitude of quiet strength, and\nhis right he held over his eyes so as to look towards Honey-Bee and the\nlight.\n\n\u201cKing Loc,\u201d said the forest dwarfs, \u201cwe have brought you the beautiful\nchild we have found; her name is Honey-Bee.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have done well,\u201d said King Loc. \u201cShe shall live amongst us\naccording to the custom of the dwarfs.\u201d\n\n\u201cHoney-Bee,\u201d he said, approaching her, \u201cyou are welcome.\u201d He spoke very\ngently, for he already felt very kindly towards her. He lifted himself\non the tips of his toes to kiss her hand that hung at her side, and he\nassured her not only that he would do her no harm, but that he would try\nto gratify all her wishes, even should she long for necklaces, mirrors,\nstuffs from Cashmere and silks from China.\n\n\u201cI wish I had some shoes,\u201d replied Honey-Bee. Upon which King Loc struck\nhis lance against a bronze disc that hung on the surface of the rock,\nand instantly something bounded like a ball out of the depths of\nthe cavern. Increasing in size it disclosed the face of a dwarf with\nfeatures such as painters give to the illustrious Belisarius, but his\nleather apron proclaimed that he was a shoemaker. He was indeed the\nchief of the shoemakers.\n\n\u201cTrue,\u201d said the king, \u201cchoose the softest leather out of our\nstore-houses, take cloth-of-gold and silver, ask the guardian of my\ntreasures for a thousand pearls of the finest water, and with this\nleather, these fabrics, and these pearls create a pair of shoes for the\nlady Honey-Bee.\u201d\n\nAt these words True threw himself at the feet of Honey-Bee and measured\nthem with great care.\n\n\u201cLittle King Loc,\u201d said Honey-Bee, \u201cI want the pretty shoes you promised\nat once, because as soon as I have them I must return to Clarides to my\nmother.\u201d \u201cYou shall have the shoes,\u201d King Loc replied; \u201cyou shall have\nthem to walk about the mountain, but not to return to Clarides, for\nnever again shall you leave this kingdom, where we will teach you\nwonderful secrets still unknown on earth. The dwarfs are superior to\nmen, and it is your good fortune that you are made welcome amongst\nthem.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is my misfortune,\u201d replied Honey-Bee. \u201cLittle King Loc, give me a\npair of wooden shoes, such as the peasants wear, and let me return to\nClarides.\u201d\n\nBut King Loc made a sign with his head to signify that this was\nimpossible. Then Honey-Bee clasped her hands and said, coaxingly:\n\n\u201cLittle King Loc, let me go and I will love you very much.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will forget me in your shining world.\u201d\n\n\u201cLittle King Loc, I will never forget you, and I will love you as much\nas I love Flying Wind.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who is Flying Wind?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is my milk-white steed, and he has rose-coloured reins and he eats\nout of my hand. When he was very little Francoeur the squire used to\nbring him to my room every morning and I kissed him. But now Francceur\nis in Rome, and Flying Wind is too big to mount the stairs.\u201d\n\nKing Loc smiled.\n\n\u201cWill you love me more than Flying Wind?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed I would,\u201d said Honey-Bee.\n\n\u201cWell said,\u201d cried the King.\n\n\u201cIndeed I would, but I cannot, I hate you, little King Loc, because you\nwill not let me see my mother and George again.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho is George?\u201d\n\n\u201cGeorge is George and I love him.\u201d\n\nThe friendship of King Loc for Honey-Bee had increased prodigiously in a\nfew minutes, and as he had already made up his mind to marry her as soon\nas she was of age, and hoped through her to reconcile men and dwarfs, he\nfeared that later on George might become his rival and wreck his plans.\nIt was because of this that he turned away frowning, his head bowed as\nif with care.\n\nHoney-Bee seeing that she had offended him pulled him gently by his\nmantle.\n\n\u201cLittle King Loc,\u201d she said, in a voice both tender and sad, \u201cwhy should\nwe make each other unhappy, you and I?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is in the nature of things,\u201d replied King Loc. \u201cI cannot take you\nback to your mother, but I will send her a dream which will tell her\nyour fate, dear Honey-Bee, and that will comfort her.\u201d\n\n\u201cLittle King Loc,\u201d and Honey-Bee smiled through her tears, \u201cwhat a good\nidea, but I will tell you just what you ought to do. You must send my\nmother a dream every night in which she will see me, and every night you\nmust send me a dream in which I shall see her.\u201d\n\nAnd King Loc promised, and so said, so done. Every night Honey-Bee\nsaw her mother, and every night the Duchess saw her daughter, and that\nsatisfied their love just a little.\n\n\n\n\nXI\n\n     In which the marvels of the kingdom of the dwarfs are\n     accurately described as well as the dolls that were given to\n     Honey-Bee\n\nThe kingdom of the dwarfs was very deep and extended under the greater\npart of the earth. Though one only caught a glimpse of the sky here\nand there through the clefts in the rocks, the roads, the avenues, the\npalaces and the galleries of this subterraneous region were not plunged\nin absolute darkness. Only a few spaces and caverns were lost in\nobscurity. The rest was illumined not by lamps or torches but by stars\nor meteors which diffused a strange and fantastic light, and this light\nrevealed the most astonishing marvels. One saw stupendous edifices hewn\nout of the solid rocks, and in some places, palaces cut out of granite,\nof such height that their tracery of stone was lost under the arches of\nthis gigantic cavern in a haze across which fell the orange glimmer of\nlittle stars less lustrous than the moon.\n\nThere were fortresses in this kingdom, of the most crushing and\nformidable dimensions; an amphitheatre in which the stone seats formed\na half-circle whose extent it was impossible to measure at a single\nglance, and vast wells with sculptured sides, in which one could descend\nforever and yet never reach the bottom. All these structures, so out of\nproportion it would seem to the size of the inhabitants, were quite in\nkeeping with their curious and fantastic genius.\n\nDwarfs in pointed hoods pricked with fern leaves whirled about these\nedifices in the airiest fashion. It was common to see them leap up to\nthe height of two or three storeys from the lava pavement and rebound\nlike balls, their faces meanwhile preserving that impressive dignity\nwith which sculptors endow the great men of antiquity.\n\nNo one was idle and all worked zealously. Entire districts echoed to\nthe sound of hammers. The shrill discord of machinery broke against the\narches of the cavern, and it was a curious sight to see the crowds of\nminers, blacksmiths, gold-beaters, jewellers, diamond polishers handle\npickaxes, hammers, pincers and files with the dexterity of monkeys.\nHowever there was a more peaceful region.\n\nHere coarse and powerful figures and shapeless columns loomed in chaotic\nconfusion, hewn out of the virgin rock, and seemed to date back to\nan immemorial antiquity. Here a palace with low portals extended its\nponderous expanse; it was the palace of King Loc.\n\nDirectly opposite was the house of Honey-Bee, a house or rather a\ncottage of one room all hung with white muslin. The furniture of\npine-wood perfumed the room. A glimpse of daylight penetrated through a\ncrevice in the rock, and on fine nights one could see the stars.\n\nHoney-Bee had no special attendants, for all the dwarf people were eager\nto serve her and to anticipate all her wishes except the single one to\nreturn to earth.\n\nThe most erudite dwarfs, familiar with the pro-foundest secrets, were\nglad to teach her, not from books, for dwarfs do not write, but by\nshowing her all the plants of mountains and plains, all the diverse\nspecies of animals, and all the varied gems that are extracted from the\nbosom of the earth. And it was by means of such sights and marvels that\nthey taught her, with an innocent gaiety, the wonders of nature and the\nprocesses of the arts.\n\nThey made her playthings such as the richest children on earth never\nhave; for these dwarfs were always industrious and invented wonderful\nmachinery. In this way they produced for her dolls that could move with\nexquisite grace, and express themselves according to the strictest rules\nof poetry. Placed on the stage of a little theatre, the scenery of which\nrepresented the shores of the sea, the blue sky, palaces and temples,\nthey would portray the most interesting events. Though no taller than\na man\u2019s arm some of them represented respectable old men, others men in\nthe prime of life, and, others still, beautiful young girls dressed in\nwhite.\n\nAmong them also were mothers pressing their innocent children to their\nhearts. And these eloquent dolls acted as if they were really moved by\nhate, love and ambition. They passed with the greatest skill from joy\nto sorrow and they imitated nature so well that they could move one to\nlaughter or to tears. Honey-Bee clapped her hands at the sight. She had\na horror of the dolls who tried to be tyrants. On the other hand she\nfelt a boundless compassion for a doll who had once been a princess, and\nwho, now a captive widow, had no other resource alas, by which to save\nher child, than to marry the barbarian who had made her a widow.\n\nHoney-Bee never tired of this game which the dolls could vary\nindefinitely. The dwarfs also gave concerts and taught her to play the\nlute, the viola, the theorbo, the lyre, and various other instruments.\n\nIn short she became an excellent musician, and the dramas acted in the\ntheatre by the dolls taught her a knowledge of men and life. King Loc\nwas always present at the plays and the concerts, but he neither saw\nnor heard anything but Honey-Bee; little by little he had set his whole\nheart upon her. In the meantime months passed and even years sped by\nand Honey-Bee was still among the dwarfs, always amused and yet always\nlonging for earth. She grew to be a beautiful girl. Her singular destiny\nhad imparted something strange to her appearance, which gave her,\nhowever, only an added charm.\n\n\n\n\nXII\n\n     In which the treasures of King Loc are described as well as\n     the writer is able\n\nSix years to a day had passed since Honey-Bee had come to live with the\ndwarfs. King Loc called her into his palace and commanded his treasurer\nto displace a huge stone which seemed cemented into the wall, but which\nin reality was only lightly placed there. All three passed through the\nopening left by the great stone and found themselves in a fissure of\nrock too narrow for two persons to stand abreast. King Loc preceded the\nothers along the dim path and Honey-Bee followed him holding to a tip of\nthe royal mantle. They walked on for a long time, and at intervals the\nsides of the rocks came so close together that the young girl was seized\nwith terror lest she should be unable to advance or recede, and so would\ndie there. Before her, along the dark and narrow road floated the mantle\nof King Loc. At last King Loc came to a bronze door which he opened and\nout of which poured a blaze of light.\n\n\u201cLittle King Loc,\u201d said Honey-Bee, \u201cI had no idea that light could be so\nbeautiful!\u201d\n\nAnd King Loc taking her by the hand led her into the hall out of which\nthe light shone.\n\n\u201cSee!\u201d he cried.\n\nHoney-Bee, dazzled, could sec nothing, for this immense hall, supported\nby high marble columns, was a glitter of gold from floor to roof.\n\nAt the end on a dais made of glittering gems set in gold and silver, the\nsteps of which were covered by a carpet of marvellous embroidery, stood\na throne of ivory and gold under a canopy of translucent enamel, and\non each side two palm-trees three thousand years old, in gigantic vases\ncarved in some bygone time by the greatest artists among the dwarfs.\nKing Loc mounted his throne and commanded the young girl to stand at his\nright hand.\n\n\u201cHoney-Bee,\u201d said King Loc, \u201cthese are my treasures. Choose all that\nwill give you pleasure.\u201d\n\nImmense gold shields hung from the columns and reflected the sunlight,\nand sent it back in glittering rays; swords and lances crossed had each\na flame at their point.\n\nTables along the walls were laden with tankards, flagons, ewers,\nchalices, pyxes, patens, goblets, gold cups, drinking horns of ivory\nwith silver rings, enormous bottles of rock crystal, chased gold\nand silver dishes, coffers, reliquaries in the form of churches,\nscent-boxes, mirrors, candelabra and torch-holders equally beautiful in\nmaterial and workmanship, and incense-burners in the shape of monsters.\nAnd on one table stood a chessboard with chessmen carved out of\nmoonstones.\n\n\u201cChoose,\u201d King Loc repeated.\n\nBut lifting her eyes above these treasures, Honey-Bee saw the blue sky\nthrough an opening in the roof, and as if she had comprehended that the\nlight of day could alone give all these things their splendour, she said\nsimply:\n\n\u201cLittle King Loc, I want to return to earth.\u201d\n\nWhereupon King Loc made a sign to his treasurer who, raising heavy\ntapestries, disclosed an enormous iron-bound coffer covered with plates\nof open ironwork. This coffer being opened out poured thousands of rays\nof different and lovely tints, and each ray seemed to leap out of a\nprecious stone most artistically cut. King Loc dipped in his hands\nand there flowed in glittering confusion violet amethysts and virgins\u2019\nstones, emeralds of three kinds, one dark green, another called the\nhoney emerald because of its colour, and the third a bluish green,\nalso called beryl, which gives happy dreams; oriental topazes, rubies\nbeautiful as the blood of heroes, dark blue sapphires, called the\nmale sapphire, and the pale blue ones, called the female sapphire, the\ncymophanes, hyacinths, euclases, turquoises, opals whose light is softer\nthan the dawn, the aquamarine and the Syrian garnet. All these gems\nwere of the purest and most luminous water. And in the midst of these\ncoloured fires great diamonds flashed their rays of dazzling white.\n\n\u201cChoose, Honey-Bee,\u201d said King Loc. But Honey-Bee shook her head.\n\n\u201cLittle King Loc,\u201d she said, \u201cI would rather have a single beam of\nsunlight that falls on the roof of Clarides than all these gems.\u201d\n\nThen King Loc ordered another coffer to be opened, in which were only\npearls. But these pearls were round and pure; their changing light\nreflected all the colours of sea and sky, and their radiance was so\ntender that they seemed to express a thought of love.\n\n\u201cAccept these,\u201d said King Loc\n\n\u201cLittle King Loc,\u201d Honey-Bee replied, \u201cthese pearls are like the glance\nof George of Blanchelande; I love these pearls, but I love his eyes even\nmore.\u201d\n\nHearing these words King Loc turned his head away. However he opened\na third coffer and showed the young girl a crystal in which a drop of\nwater had been imprisoned since the beginning of time; and when the\ncrystal was moved the drop of water could be seen to stir. He also\nshowed her pieces of yellow amber in which insects more brilliant than\njewels had been imprisoned for thousands of years. One could distinguish\ntheir delicate feet and their fine antennae, and they would have resumed\ntheir flight had some power but shattered like glass their perfumed\nprison.\n\n\u201cThese are the great marvels of nature; I give them to you, Honey-Bee.\u201d\n\n\u201cLittle King Loc,\u201d Honey-Bee replied, \u201ckeep your amber and your crystal,\nfor I should not know how to give their freedom either to the fly or the\ndrop of water.\u201d\n\nKing Loc watched her in silence for some time. Then he said, \u201cHoney-Bee,\nthe most beautiful treasures will be safe in your keeping. You will\npossess them and they will not possess you. The miser is the prey of his\ngold, only those who despise wealth can be rich without danger; their\nsouls will always be greater than their riches.\u201d\n\nHaving uttered these words he made a sign to his treasurer who presented\non a cushion a crown of gold to the young girl.\n\n\u201cAccept this jewel as a sign of our regard for you,\u201d said King Loc.\n\u201cHenceforth you shall be called the Princess of the Dwarfs.\u201d\n\nAnd he himself placed the crown on the head of Honcy-Bee.\n\n\n\n\nXIII\n\n     In which King Loc declares himself\n\nThe dwarfs celebrated the crowning of their first princess by joyous\nrevels. Harmless and innocent games succeeded each other in the huge\namphitheatre; and the little men, with cockades of fern or two oak\nleaves fastened coquettishly to their hoods, bounded gaily across the\nsubterranean streets. The rejoicings lasted thirty days. During\nthe universal excitement Pic looked like a mortal inspired; Tad the\nkind-hearted was intoxicated by the universal joy; Dig the tender gave\nexpression to his delight in tears; Rug, in his ecstasy, again demanded\nthat Honey-Bee should be put in a cage, but this time so that the dwarfs\nneed not be afraid to lose so charming a princess; Bob, mounted on his\nraven, filled the air with such cries of rapture that the sable bird,\ninfected by the gaiety, gave vent to innumerable playful little croaks.\n\nOnly King Loc was sad.\n\nOn the thirtieth day, having given the princess and the dwarf people\na festival of unparalleled magnificence, he mounted his throne, and so\nstood that his kind face just reached her car.\n\n\u201cMy Princess Honcy-Bee,\u201d he said, \u201cI am about to make a request which\nyou are at liberty either to accept or to refuse. Honey-Bee of Clarides,\nPrincess of the Dwarfs, will you be my wife?\u201d\n\nAs he spoke, King Loc, grave and tender, had something of the gentle\nbeauty of a majestic poodle.\n\n\u201cLittle King Loc,\u201d Honey-Bee replied, as she pulled his beard, \u201cI am\nwilling to become your wife for fun, but never your wife for good. The\nmoment you asked me to marry you I was reminded of Francoeur, who when\nI was on earth used to amuse me by telling me the most ridiculous\nstories.\u201d\n\nAt these words King Loc turned his head away, but not so soon but that\nHoney-Bee saw the tears in his eyes. Then Honey-Bee was grieved because\nshe had pained him.\n\n\u201cLittle King Loc,\u201d she said to him, \u201cI love you for the little King Loc\nyou are; and if you make me laugh as Francoeur did, there is nothing\nin that to vex you, for Francoeur sang well and he would have been very\nhandsome if it had not been for his grey hair and his red nose.\u201d\n\n\u201cHoney-Bee of Clarides, Princess of the Dwarfs,\u201d the king replied, \u201cI\nlove you in the hope that some day you will love me. And yet without\nthat hope I should love you just the same. The only return I ask for my\nfriendship is that you will always be honest with me.\u201d\n\n\u201cLittle King Loc, I promise.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell then, tell me truly, Honey-Bee, do you love some one else enough\nto marry him?\u201d\n\n\u201cLittle King Loc, I love no one enough for that.\u201d\n\nWhereupon King Loc smiled, and seizing his golden cup he proposed, with\na resounding voice, the health of the Princess of the Dwarfs. An immense\nuproar rose from the depths of the earth, for the banquet table reached\nfrom one end to the other of the Empire of the Dwarfs.\n\n\n\n\nXIV\n\n     In which we are told how Honey-Bee saw her mother again, but\n     could not embrace her\n\nHoney-Bee, a crown on her head, was now more often sad and lost in\nthought than when her hair flowed loose over her shoulders, and when\nshe went laughing to the forge and pulled the beards of her good friends\nPic, Tad and Dig, whose faces, red from the reflected flames, gave her a\ngay welcome. But now these good dwarfs, who had once danced her on their\nknees and called her Honey-Bee, bowed as she passed and maintained a\nrespectful silence. She grieved because she was no longer a child, and\nshe suffered because she was the Princess of the Dwarfs.\n\nIt was no longer a pleasure for her to see King Loc, since she had seen\nhim weep because of her. But she loved him, for he was good and unhappy.\nOne day, if one may say that there are days in the empire of the dwarfs,\nshe took King Loc by the hand and drew him under the cleft in the rock,\nthrough which a sunbeam shone, along whose rays there danced a haze of\ngolden dust.\n\n\u201cLittle King Loc,\u201d she said, \u201cI suffer. You are a king and you love me\nand I suffer.\u201d\n\nHearing these words from the pretty damsel, King Loc replied:\n\n\u201cI love you, Honey-Bee of Clarides, Princess of the Dwarfs; and that\nis why I have held you captive in our world, in order to teach you our\nsecrets, which are greater and more wonderful than all those you could\nlearn on earth amongst men, for men are less skilful and less learned\nthan the dwarfs.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Honey-Bee, \u201cbut they are more like me than the dwarfs,\nand for that reason I love them better. Little King Loc, let me see my\nmother again if you do not wish me to die.\u201d\n\nWithout replying King Loc went away. Honey-Bee, desolate and alone,\nwatched the ray of light which bathes the whole face of nature and\nwhich enfolds all the living, even to the beggars by the wayside, in its\nresplendent waves. Slowly this ray paled, and its golden radiance faded\nto a pale blue light. Night had come upon earth. A star twinkled over\nthe cleft in the rock.\n\nThen some one gently touched her on the shoulder, and she saw King Loc\nwrapped in a black cloak. He had another cloak on his arm with which he\ncovered the young girl.\n\n\u201cCome,\u201d said he.\n\nAnd he led her out of the under-world. When she saw again the trees\nstirred by the wind, the clouds that floated across the moon, the\nsplendour of the night so fresh and blue, when she breathed again the\nfragrance of the herbage, and when the air she had breathed in childhood\nagain entered her breast in floods, she gave a great sigh and thought to\ndie of joy.\n\nKing Loc had taken her in his arms; small though he was, he carried\nher as lightly as a feather, and they glided over the ground like the\nshadows of two birds.\n\n\u201cYou shall see your mother again, Honey-Bee. But listen! You know\nthat every night I send her your image. Every night she sees your\ndear phantom; she smiles upon it, she talks to it and she caresses it.\nTo-night she shall, instead, see you yourself. You will see her, but\nyou must not touch her, you must not speak to her, or the charm will be\nbroken and she will never again see you nor your image, which she does\nnot distinguish from you.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen I will be prudent, alas! little King Loc!... See! See!...\u201d\n\nSure enough the watch-tower of Clarides rose black on the hill.\nHoney-Bee had hardly time to throw a kiss to the beloved old stone walls\nwhen the ramparts of the town of Clarides, overgrown with gillyflowers\nalready flew past; already she was ascending the terrace, where the\nglow-worms glimmer in the grass, to the postern, which King Loc easily\nopened, for the dwarfs are masters of metals, nor can locks, padlocks,\nbolts, chains or bars ever stop them.\n\nShe climbed the winding stairs that led to her mother\u2019s room, and she\npaused to clasp her beating heart with both her hands. Softly the door\nopened, and by the light of a night lamp that hung from the ceiling she\nsaw her mother in the holy silence that reigned, her mother frailer and\npaler, with hair grey at the temples, but in the eyes of her daughter\nmore beautiful even than in past days as she remembered her riding\nfearlessly in magnificent attire. As usual the mother beheld her\ndaughter as in a dream, and she opened her arms as if to caress her. And\nthe child, laughing and sobbing, was about to throw herself into those\nopen arms; but King Loc tore her away, and like a wisp of straw he bore\nher through the blue landscape to the Kingdom of the Dwarfs.\n\n\n\n\nXV\n\n     In which we shall see how King Loc suffered\n\nSeated on the granite step of the underground palace, Honey-Bee watched\nthe blue sky through the cleft in the rock, I and saw the elder-trees\nturn their spreading white parasols to the light. She began to weep.\n\n\u201cHoney-Bee,\u201d said King Loc as he took her hand in his, \u201cwhy do you weep,\nand what is it you desire?\u201d And as she had been grieving these many\ndays, the dwarfs at her feet tried to cheer her with simple airs on the\nflute, the flageolet, the rebeck, and the cymbals. And other dwarfs, to\namuse her, turned such somersaults one after the other that they pricked\nthe grass with the points of their hoods with their cockades of leaves,\nand nothing could be more charming than to watch the capers of these\ntiny men with their venerable beards. Tad so kind and Dig so wise, who\nhad loved her since the day they had found her asleep on the shore of\nthe lake, and Pic, the elderly poet, gently took her arm and implored\nher to tell them the cause of her grief. Pau, a simple just soul,\noffered her a basket of grapes, and all of them gently pulled the edge\nof her skirt and said with King Loc:\n\n\u201cHoney-Bee, Princess of the Dwarfs, why do you weep?\u201d\n\n\u201cLittle King Loc,\u201d Honey-Bee replied, \u201cand you, little men, my grief\nonly increases your love, because you are good; you weep with me. Know\nthat I weep when I think of George of Blanchelande, who should now be a\ncavalier, but whom I shall never see again. I love him and I wish to be\nhis wife.\u201d\n\nKing Loc took his hand away from the hand he had pressed.\n\n\u201cHoney-Bee,\u201d he said, \u201cwhy did you deceive me when you told me at the\nbanquet that you loved no one else?\u201d\n\n\u201cLittle King Loc,\u201d Honey-Bee replied, \u201cI did not deceive you at the\nbanquet. At that time I had no desire to marry George of Blanchelande,\nbut to-day it is my dearest wish that he should ask to marry me. But he\nwill never ask me, as I do not know where he now is, nor does he know\nwhere I am. And this is the reason I weep.\u201d\n\nAt these words the musicians ceased playing; the acrobats interrupted\ntheir tumbling and stood immovable, some on their heads and some\non their haunches; Tad and Dig shed silent tears on the sleeve of\nHoney-Bee; Pau, simple soul, dropped his basket of grapes, and all the\nlittle men gave vent to the most fearful groans.\n\nBut King Loc, more unhappy than all under his splendid jewelled crown,\nsilently withdrew, his mantle trailing behind him like a purple torrent.\n\n\n\n\nXVI\n\n     In which an account is given of the learned Nur who was the\n     cause of such extraordinary joy to King Loc\n\nKing Loc did not permit the young girl to observe his weakness; but when\nhe was alone he sat on the ground and with his feet in his hands gave\nway to grief. He was jealous. \u201cShe loves him,\u201d he said to himself, \u201cand\nshe does not love me! And yet I am a king and very wise; great treasures\nare mine and I know the most marvellous secrets. I am superior to all\nother dwarfs, who are in turn superior to all men. She does not love\nme but she loves a young man who not only has not the learning of the\ndwarfs, but no other learning either.\n\n\u201cIt must be acknowledged that she does not appreciate merit--nor has she\nmuch sense. I ought to laugh at her want of judgment; but I love her and\nI care for nothing in the world because she does not love me.\u201d\n\nFor many long days King Loc roamed alone through the most desolate\nmountain passes, turning over in his mind thoughts both sad and,\nsometimes, wicked. He even thought of trying by imprisonment and\nstarvation to force Honey-Bee to become his wife. But rejecting this\nplan as soon as formed he decided to go in search of her and throw\nhimself at her feet. But he could come to no decision, and at last he\nwas quite at a loss what to do. The truth being that whether Honey-Bee\nwould love him did not depend on him.\n\nSuddenly his anger turned against George of Blanchelande; and he hoped\nthat the young man had been carried far away by some enchanter, and that\nat any rate, should he ever hear of Honey-Bee\u2019s love, he would disdain\nit.\n\n\u201cWithout being old,\u201d the king meditated, \u201cI have already lived too long\nnot to have suffered sometimes. And yet my sufferings, intense though\nthey were, were less painful than those of which I am conscious to-day.\nWith the tenderness and pity which caused them was mingled something\nof their own divine sweetness. Now, on the contrary, my grief has the\nbaseness and bitterness of an evil desire. My soul is desolate and the\ntears in my eyes are like an acid that burns them.\u201d\n\nSo thought King Loc. And fearing that jealousy might make him unjust\nand wicked he avoided meeting the young girl, for fear that in spite of\nhimself, he might use towards her the language of a man either weak or\nbrutal.\n\nOne day when he was more than ever tormented by the thought that\nHoney-Bec loved George, he decided to consult Nur, the most learned\nof all the dwarfs, who lived at the bottom of a well deep down in the\nbowels of the earth.\n\nThis well had the advantage of an even and soft temperature. It was\nnot dark, for two little stars, a pale sun and a red moon, alternately\nillumined all parts. King Loc descended into the well and found Nur in\nhis laboratory. Nur looked like a kind little old man, and he wore a\nsprig of wild thyme in his hood. In spite of his learning he had the\ninnocence and candour characteristic of his race.\n\n\u201cNur,\u201d said the king as he embraced him, \u201cI have come to consult you\nbecause you know many things.\u201d\n\n\u201cKing Loc,\u201d replied Nur, \u201cI might know a good deal and yet be an idiot.\nBut I possess the knowledge of how to learn some of the innumerable\nthings I do not know, and that is the reason I am so justly famous for\nmy learning.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d said King Loc, \u201ccan you tell me the whereabouts at present\nof a young man by the name of George of Blanchelande?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not know and I never cared to know,\u201d replied Nur. \u201cKnowing as I\ndo the ignorance, stupidity and wickedness of mankind, I don\u2019t trouble\nmyself as to what they say or do. Humanity, King Loc, would be entirely\ndeplorable and ridiculous if it were not that something of value is\ngiven to this proud and miserable race, inasmuch as the men are endowed\nwith courage, the women with beauty, and the little children with\ninnocence. Obliged by necessity, as are also the dwarfs, to toil,\nmankind has rebelled against this divine law, and instead of being, like\nourselves, willing and cheerful toilers, they prefer war to work, and\nthey would rather kill each other than help each other. But to be just\none must admit that their shortness of life is the principal cause of\ntheir ignorance and cruelty. Their life is too short for them to learn\nhow to live. The race of the dwarfs who dwell under the earth is happier\nand better. If we are not immortal we shall at least last as long as\nthe earth which bears us in her bosom, and which permeates us with her\nintimate and fruitful warmth, while for the races born on her rugged\nsurface she has only the turbulent winds which sometimes scorch and\nsometimes freeze, and whose breath is at once the bearer of death and\nof life. And yet men owe to their overwhelming miseries and wickedness\na virtue which makes the souls of some amongst them more beautiful than\nthe souls of dwarfs. And this virtue, O King Loc, which for the mind is\nwhat the soft radiance of pearls is for the eyes, is pity. It is taught\nby suffering, and the dwarfs know it but little, because being wiser\nthan men they escape much anguish. Yet sometimes the dwarfs leave their\ndeep grottoes and seek the pitiless surface of the earth to mingle with\nmen so as to love them, to suffer with them and through them, and thus\nto feel this pity which refreshes the soul like a heavenly dew. This\nis the truth concerning men, King Loc. But did you not ask me as to the\nexact fate of some one amongst them?\u201d\n\nKing Loc having repeated his question, Nur looked into one of the many\ntelescopes which filled the room. For the dwarfs have no books, those\nwhich are found amongst them have come from men, and are only used as\nplaythings. They do not learn as we do by consulting marks on paper,\nbut they look through telescopes and see the subject itself of their\ninquiry. The only difficulty is to choose the right telescope and get\nthe right focus.\n\nThere are telescopes of crystal, of topaz and of opal; but those whose\nlens is a great polished diamond are more powerful, and permit them to\nsee the most distant objects.\n\nThe dwarfs also have lenses of a translucent substance unknown to men.\nThese enable the sight to pass through rocks and walls as if they were\nglass. Others, more remarkable still, reconstruct as accurately as a\nmirror all that has vanished with the flight of time. For the dwarfs, in\nthe depths of their caverns, have the power to recall from the infinite\nsurface of the ether the light of immemorial days and the forms and\ncolours of vanished times. They can create for themselves a phantasm\nof the past by re-arranging the splinters of light which were once\nshattered against the forms of men, animals, plants and rocks, so that\nthey again flash across the centuries through the unfathomable ether.\n\nThe venerable Nur excelled in discovering figures of antiquity and even\nsuch, inconceivable though it may seem, as lived before the earth\nhad assumed the shape with which we are familiar. So it was really no\ntrouble at all for him to find George of Blanchelande.\n\nHaving looked for a moment through a very ordinary telescope indeed, he\nsaid to King Loc:\n\n\u201cKing Loc, he for whom you search is with the nixies in their palace of\ncrystal, from which none ever return, and whose iridescent walls adjoin\nyour kingdom.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs he there?\u201d cried the king, \u201cLet him stay!\u201d and he rubbed his hands.\n\u201cI wish him joy.\u201d\n\nAnd having embraced the venerable dwarf, he emerged out of the well\nroaring with laughter.\n\nThe whole length of the road he held his sides so as to laugh at his\nease; his head shook, and his beard swung backwards and forwards on his\nstomach. How he laughed! The little men who met him laughed out of sheer\nsympathy. Seeing them laugh made others laugh. A contagion of laughter\nspread from place to place until the whole interior of the earth was\nshaken as if with a mighty and jovial hiccough. Ha! ha! ha!\n\n\n\n\nXVII\n\n     Which tells of the wonderful adventure of George of\n     Blanchelande\n\nKing Loc did not laugh long; indeed he hid the face of a very unhappy\nlittle man under the bed-clothes.\n\nHe lay awake all night long thinking of George of Blanchelande, the\nprisoner of the nixies.\n\nSo about the hour when such of the dwarfs as have a dairymaid for\nsweetheart go in her stead to milk the cows while she sleeps in her\nwhite bed with folded hands, little King Loc again sought the astute Nur\nin the depths of his well.\n\n\u201cYou did not tell me, Nur, what he is doing down there with the nixies?\u201d\n\nThe venerable Nur was quite convinced that the king was mad, though that\ndid not alarm him because he knew if King Loc should lose his reason\nhe would be a most gracious, charming, amiable and kindly lunatic. The\nmadness of the dwarfs is gentle like their reason, and full of the most\ndelicious fancies. But King Loc was not mad; at least not more so than\nlovers usually are.\n\n\u201cI wish to speak of George of Blanchelande,\u201d he said to the venerable\nNur, who had forgotten all about this young man as soon as possible.\n\nThereupon Nur the wise placed a series of lenses and mirrors before\nthe king in an order so exact that it looked like disorder, but\nwhich enabled him to show the king in a mirror the form of George of\nBlanchelande as he was when the nixies carried him away. By a lucky\nchoice and a skilful adjustment of instruments the dwarf was able to\nreproduce for the love-sick king all the adventures of the son of that\nCountess to whom a white rose announced her end. And the following,\nexpressed in words, is what the little man saw in all the reality of\nform and colour.\n\nWhen George was borne away in the icy arms of the daughters of the lake\nthe water pressed upon his eyes and his breast and he felt that he was\nabout to die. And yet he heard songs that sounded like a caress and his\nwhole being was permeated by a sense of delicious freshness. When\nhe opened his eyes he found himself in a grotto whose crystal columns\nreflected the delicate tints of the rainbow. At the end of the grotto\nwas a great sea shell of mother-of-pearl iridescent with the tenderest\ncolours, and this served as a dais to the throne of coral and seaweed\nof the Queen of the Nixies. But the face of the Sovereign of the waters\nshone with a light more tender than either the mother-of-pearl or the\ncrystal. She smiled at the child which her women brought her, and her\ngreen eyes lingered long upon him.\n\n\u201cFriend,\u201d she said at last, \u201cbe welcome into our world, in which you\nshall be spared all sorrow. For you neither dry lessons nor rough\nsports; nothing coarse shall remind you of earth and its toil, for you\nonly the songs and the dances and the love of the nixies.\u201d\n\nAnd indeed the women of the green hair taught the child music and\ndancing and a thousand graces. They loved to bind his forehead with the\ncockle shells that decked their own tresses. But he, remembering his\ncountry, gnawed his clenched hands with impatience.\n\nYears passed and George longed with a passion unceasing to see the earth\nagain, the rude earth where the sun burns and where the snow hardens,\nthe mother earth where one suffers, where one loves, the earth where he\nhad seen Honey-Bee, and where he longed to see her again. He had in the\nmeantime grown to be a tall lad with a fine golden down on his upper\nlip. Courage came with the beard, and so one day he presented himself\nbefore the Queen of the Nixies and bowing low, said:\n\n\u201cMadam, I have come, with your gracious permission, to take leave of\nyou; I am about to return to Clarides.\u201d\n\n\u201cFair youth,\u201d the queen replied smiling, \u201cI cannot grant you the leave\nyou ask, for I guard you in my crystal palace, to make of you my lover.\u201d\n\n\u201cMadam,\u201d he replied, \u201cI am not worthy of so great an honour.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is but your courtesy. What gallant cavalier ever believes that he\nhas sufficiently deserved his lady\u2019s favour. Besides you are still too\nyoung to know your own worth. Let me tell you, fair youth, that we do\nbut desire your welfare; obey your lady and her alone.\u201d\n\n\u201cMadam, I love Honey-Bee of Clarides. I will have no other lady but\nher.\u201d\n\n\u201cA mortal maid!\u201d the queen cried, turning pale, but more beautiful\nstill, \u201ca coarse daughter of men, this Honey-Bee! How can you love such\na thing?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not know, but I know that I love her.\u201d\n\n\u201cNever mind. It will pass.\u201d\n\nAnd she still held the young man captive by means of the allurements of\nher crystal abode.\n\nHe did not comprehend the devious thing called a woman; he was more\nlike Achilles among the daughters of Lycomedes than Tannhauser in the\nenchanted castle. And that is why he wandered sadly along the walls of\nthe mighty palace searching for an outlet through which to escape; but\nhe only saw the splendid and silent empire of the waves sealing his\nshining prison. Through the transparent walls he watched the blooming\nsea anemones and the spreading coral, while over the delicate streams of\nthe madrepores and the sparkling shells, purple, blue, and gold fishes\nmade a glitter of stars with a stroke of their tails. These marvels he\nleft unheeded, for, lulled by the delicious songs of the nixies, he\nfelt little by little his will broken and his soul grow weak. He was all\nindolence and indifference when one day he found by chance in a gallery\nof the palace, an ancient well-worn book bound in pigskin and studded\nwith great copper nail-heads. The book, saved from some wreck in\nmid-ocean, treated of chivalry and fair ladies, and related at great\nlength the adventures of heroes who went about the world redressing\nwrongs, protecting widows and succouring orphans for the love of justice\nand in honour of beauty. George flushed and paled with wonder, shame,\nand anger as he read these tales of splendid adventures. He could not\ncontain himself.\n\n\u201cI also,\u201d he cried, \u201cwill be a gallant knight. I also will go about the\nworld punishing the wicked and succouring the unfortunate for the good\nof mankind and in the name of my lady Honey-Bee.\u201d\n\nWith sword drawn and his heart big with valour he dashed across the\ncrystal dwellings. The white ladies fled and swooned before him like the\nsilver ripples of a lake. Their queen alone beheld his approach without\na tremor; she turned on him the icy glance of her green eyes.\n\n\u201cBreak the enchantment which binds me,\u201d he cried, running towards her.\n\u201cOpen to me the road to earth. I wish to fight in the light of the\nsun like a cavalier. I wish to return to where one loves, to where one\nsuffers, to where one struggles! Give back to me the life that is real\nand the light that is real. Give mc back my prowess! If not, I will kill\nyou, you wicked woman!\u201d\n\nWith a smile she shook her head as if to refuse. Beautiful she was and\nserene. With all the strength that was in him George struck her; but his\nsword broke against her glittering breast.\n\n\u201cChild!\u201d she said, and she commanded that he be cast into a dungeon\nwhich formed a kind of crystal tunnel under her palace, and about which\nsharks roamed with wide-stretched monstrous jaws armed with triple rows\nof pointed teeth. At every touch it seemed as if they must crush the\nfrail glass wall, which made it impossible to sleep in this strange\nprison.\n\nThe extremity of this under-sea tunnel rested on a bed of rock which\nformed the vaulting of the most distant and unexplored cavern in the\nempire of the dwarfs.\n\nAnd this is what the two little men saw in a single hour and quite as\naccurately as if they had followed George all the days of his life.\nThe venerable Nur, having described the dungeon scene in all its tragic\ngloom, addressed the King in much the same way as the Savoyards speak to\nthe little children when they show their magic lanterns.\n\n\u201cKing Loc,\u201d he said, \u201cI have shown you all you wished to see, and now\nthat you know all I can add nothing more. It\u2019s nothing to me whether\nyou liked what you saw; it is enough to know that what you saw was the\ntruth. Science neither cares to please nor to displease. She is inhuman.\nIt is not science but poetry that charms and consoles. And that is why\npoetry is more necessary than science. Go, King Loc, and get them to\nsing you a song.\u201d\n\nAnd without uttering a word King Loc left the well.\n\n\n\n\nXVIII\n\n     In which King Loc undertakes a terrible journey\n\nHaving left the well of wisdom, King Loc went to his treasure house and\nout of a casket, of which he alone had the key, he took a ring which\nhe placed on his finger. The stone set in the ring emitted a brilliant\nlight, for it was a magic stone of whose power we shall learn more\nfurther on. Thereupon King Loc went to his palace, put on a travelling\ncloak and thick boots and took a stick; then he started on a journey\nacross crowded streets, great highways, villages, galleries of porphyry,\ntorrents of rock-oil, and crystal grottoes, all of which communicated\nwith each other through narrow openings.\n\nHe seemed lost in deep meditation and he uttered words that had no\nmeaning. But he trudged on doggedly. Mountains obstructed his path\nand he climbed the mountains. Precipices opened under his feet and he\ndescended into the precipices; he forded streams, he crossed horrible\nregions black with the fumes of sulphur. He trudged across burning\nlava on which his feet left their imprint; he had the appearance of a\ndesperately dogged traveller. He penetrated into gloomy caverns into\nwhich the water of the ocean oozed drop by drop, and flowed like tears\nalong the sea wrack, forming pools on the uneven ground where countless\ncrustaceans increased and multiplied into hideous shapes. Enormous\ncrabs, crayfish, giant lobsters and sea spiders crackled under the\ndwarfs feet, then crawled away leaving some of their claws behind, and\nin their flight rousing horrible molluscs and octopuses centuries old\nthat suddenly writhed their hundred arms and spat fetid poison out of\ntheir bird-beaks. And yet King Loc went on undaunted. He made his way\nto the ends of these caverns, through the midst of a heaped up chaos of\nshelled monsters armed with spikes, with double saw-edged nippers, with\nclaws that crept stealthily up to his neck and bleared eyes on swaying\ntentacles. He crept up the sides of the cavern by clinging to the rough\nsurface of the rocks and the mailed monsters crept with him, but he\nnever faltered until he recognised by touch a stone that projected from\nthe centre of the natural arch. He touched the stone with his magic\nring and suddenly it rolled away with a horrible crash, and at once a\nglory of light flooded the cavern with its beautiful waves and put to\nflight the swarming monsters bred in its gloom.\n\nAs King Loc thrust his head into the opening through which daylight\npoured, he saw George of Blanchelande in his glass dungeon where he was\nlamenting grievously as he thought of Honey-Bee and of earth. For King\nLoc had undertaken this subterranean journey only to deliver the captive\nof the nixies.\n\nBut seeing this huge dishevelled head, frowning and bearded, watching\nhim from under his tunnel, George believed himself to be menaced by a\nmighty danger and he felt for the sword at his side forgetting that he\nhad broken it against the breast of the woman with the green eyes. In\nthe meantime King Loc examined him curiously.\n\n\u201cBah,\u201d said he to himself, \u201cit is only a child!\u201d And indeed he was only\nan ignorant child, and it was because of his great ignorance that he had\nescaped from the deadly and delicious kisses of the Queen of the Nixies.\nAristotle with all his wisdom might not have done so well.\n\n\u201cWhat do you want, fathead?\u201d George cried, seeing himself defenceless,\n\u201cwhy harm me if I have never harmed you?\u201d\n\n\u201cLittle one,\u201d King Loc replied in a voice at once jovial and testy, \u201cyou\ndo not know whether or not you have harmed me, for you are ignorant of\neffects and causes and reflections, and all philosophy in general. But\nwe\u2019ll not talk of that. If you don\u2019t mind leaving your tunnel, come this\nway.\u201d\n\nGeorge at once crept into the cavern, slipped down the length of the\nwall, and as soon as he had reached the bottom he said to his deliverer:\n\n\u201cYou are a good little man; I shall love you for ever; but do you know\nwhere Honey-Bee of Clarides is?\u201d\n\n\u201cI know a great many things,\u201d retorted the dwarf, \u201cand especially that I\ndon\u2019t like people who ask questions.\u201d\n\nHearing this George paused in great confusion and followed his guide in\nsilence through the dense black air where the octopuses and crustaceans\nwrithed. King Loc said mockingly:\n\n\u201cThis is not a carriage road, young prince.\u201d\n\n\u201cSir,\u201d George replied, \u201cthe road to liberty is always beautiful, and I\nfear not to be led astray when I follow my benefactor.\u201d\n\nLittle King Loc bit his lips. On reaching the gallery of porphyry\nhe pointed out to the youth a flight of steps cut in the rock by the\ndwarfs, by which they ascend to earth.\n\n\u201cThis is your way,\u201d he said, \u201cfarewell.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not bid me farewell,\u201d George replied, \u201csay I shall see you again.\nAfter what you have done my life is yours.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat I have done,\u201d King Loc replied, \u201cI have not done for your sake,\nbut for another\u2019s. It will be better for us never to meet again, for we\ncan never be friends.\u201d\n\n\u201cI would not have believed that my deliverance could have caused me such\npain,\u201d George said simply and gravely, \u201cand yet it does. Farewell.\u201d\n\n\u201cA pleasant journey,\u201d cried King Loc, in a gruff voice.\n\nNow it happened that these steps of the dwarfs adjoined a deserted stone\nquarry less than a mile from the castle of Clarides.\n\n\u201cThis young lad,\u201d King Loc murmured as he went on his way, \u201chas neither\nthe wisdom nor the wealth. Truly I cannot imagine why Honey-Bee loves\nhim, unless it is because he is young, handsome, faithful and brave.\u201d\n\nAs he went back to the town he laughed to himself as a man does who has\ndone some one a good turn. As he passed Honey-Bee\u2019s cottage he thrust\nhis big head into the open window just as he had thrust it into the\ncrystal tunnel, and he saw the young girl, who was embroidering a veil\nwith silver flowers.\n\n\u201cI wish you joy, Honey-Bee,\u201d he cried.\n\n\u201cAnd you also, little King Loc, seeing you have nothing to wish for and\nnothing to regret.\u201d\n\nHe had much to wish for, but, indeed, he had nothing to regret. And it\nwas probably this which gave him such a good appetite for supper. Having\neaten a huge number of truffled pheasants he called Bob.\n\n\u201cBob,\u201d said he, \u201cmount your raven; go to the Princess of the Dwarfs and\ntell her that George or Blanchelande, long a captive of the nixies, has\nthis day returned to Clarides.\u201d\n\nThus he spoke and Bob flew off on his raven.\n\n\n\n\nXIX\n\n     Which tells of the extraordinary encounter of Jean the\n     master tailor, and of the blessed song the birds in the\n     grove sang to the duchess\n\nWhen George again found himself on the earth on which he was born, the\nvery first person he met was Jean, the master tailor, with a red suit of\nclothes on his arm for the steward of the castle. The good man shrieked\nat sight of his young master.\n\n\u201cHoly St. James,\u201d he cried, \u201cif you are not his lordship George of\nBlanchelande who was drowned in the lake seven years ago, you are either\nhis ghost or the devil in person.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am neither ghost nor devil, good Jean, but I am truly that same\nGeorge of Blanchelande who used to creep to your shop and beg bits\nof stuff out of which to make dresses for the dolls of my sister\nHoney-Bee.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen you were not drowned, your lordship,\u201d the good man exclaimed. \u201cI\nam so glad! And how well you look. My little Peter who climbed into my\narms to see you pass on horseback by the side of the Duchess that Sunday\nmorning has become a good workman and a fine fellow. He is all of that,\nGod be praised, your lordship. He will be glad to hear that you are not\nat the bottom of the sea, and that the fish have not eaten you as he\nalways declared. He was in the habit of saying many pleasant things\nabout it, your lordship, for he is very amusing. And it is a fact that\nyou are much mourned in Clarides. You were such a promising child. I\nshall remember to my dying day how you once asked me for a needle to\nsew with, and as I refused, for you were not of an age to use it without\ndanger, you replied you would go to the woods and pick beautiful green\npine needles. That is what you said, and it still makes me laugh.\nUpon my soul you said that. Our little Peter, also, used to say clever\nthings. Now he is a cooper and at your service, your lordship.\u201d\n\n\u201cI shall employ no one else. But give me news of Honey-Bee and the\nDuchess, Master Jean.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlack, where do you come from, your lordship, seeing that you do not\nknow that it is now seven years since the Princess Honey-Bee was stolen\nby the dwarfs of the mountain? She disappeared the very day you were\ndrowned; and one can truly say that on that day Clarides lost its\nsweetest flowers. The Duchess is in deep mourning. And it\u2019s that which\nmakes me say that the great of the earth have their sorrows just as well\nas the humblest artisans, if only to prove that we are all the sons of\nAdam. And because of this a cat may well look at a king, as the saying\nis. And by the same token the good Duchess has seen her hair grow white\nand her gaiety vanish. And when in the springtime she walks in her black\nrobes along the hedgerow where the birds sing, the smallest of these is\nmore to be envied than the sovereign lady of Clarides. And yet her grief\nis not quite without hope, your lordship; for though she had no tidings\nof you, she at least knows by dreams that her daughter Honey-Bee is\nalive.\u201d\n\nThis and much else said good man Jean, but George listened no longer\nafter he heard that Honey-Bee was a captive among the dwarfs.\n\n\u201cThe dwarfs hold Honey-Bee captive under the earth,\u201d he pondered; \u201ca\ndwarf rescued me from my crystal dungeon; these little men have not all\nthe same customs; my deliverer cannot be of the same race as those who\nstole my sister.\u201d\n\nHe knew not what to think except that he must rescue Honey-Bee.\n\nIn the meantime they crossed the town, and on their way the gossips\nstanding on the thresholds of their houses asked each other who was\nthis young stranger, but they all agreed that he was very handsome.\nThe better informed amongst them, having recognised the young lord of\nBlanchelande, decided that it must be his ghost, wherefore they fled,\nmaking great signs of the cross.\n\n\u201cHe must be sprinkled with holy water,\u201d said one old crone, \u201cand he will\nvanish leaving a disgusting smell of sulphur. He will carry away Master\nJean, and he will of course plunge him alive into the fire of hell.\u201d\n\n\u201cSoftly! old woman,\u201d a citizen replied, \u201chis lordship is alive and much\nmore alive than you or I. He is as fresh as a rose, and he looks as if\nhe had come from some noble court rather than from the other world. One\ndoes return from afar, good dame. As witness Francoeur the squire who\ncame back from Rome last midsummer day.\u201d\n\nAnd Margaret the helmet-maker, having greatly admired George, mounted\nto her maiden chamber and kneeling before the image of the Holy Virgin\nprayed, \u201cHoly Virgin, grant me a husband who shall look precisely like\nthis young lord.\u201d\n\nSo each in his way talked of George\u2019s return until the news spread\nfrom mouth to mouth and finally reached the ears of the Duchess who was\nwalking-in the orchard. Her heart beat violently and she heard all the\nbirds in the hedge-row sing:\n\n\n           \u201cCui, cui, cui,\n          Oui, oui, oui,\n     Georges de Blanchelande,\n          Cui, cui, cui.\n     Dont vous avez nourri l\u2019enfance\n          Cui, cui, cui,\n          Est ici, est ici, est ici!\n          Oui, oui, oui.\u201d\n\nFrancoeur approached her respectfully and said: \u201cYour Grace, George de\nBlanchelande whom you thought dead has returned. I shall make it into a\nsong.\u201d In the meantime the birds sang:\n\n     \u201cCucui, cui, cui, cui, cui,\n     Oui, oui, oui, oui, oui, oui,\n     Il est ici, ici, ici, ici, ici, ici.\u201d\n\nAnd when she saw the child who had been to her as a son, she opened her\narms and fell senseless at his feet.\n\n\n\n\n\nXX\n\n     Which treats of a little satin shoe\n\nEverybody in Clarides was quite convinced that Honey-Bee had been stolen\nby the dwarfs. Even the Duchess believed it, though her dreams did not\ntell her precisely. \u201cWe will find her again,\u201d said George. \u201cWe will\nfind her again,\u201d replied Francoeur. \u201cAnd we will bring her back to her\nmother,\u201d said George.\n\n\u201cAnd we will bring her back,\u201d replied Francoeur. \u201cAnd we will marry\nher,\u201d said George.\n\n\u201cAnd we will marry her,\u201d replied Francoeur. And they inquired among the\ninhabitants as to the habits of the dwarfs and the mysterious\ncircumstances of Honey-Bee\u2019s disappearance.\n\nAnd so it happened that they questioned Nurse Maurille who had once been\nthe nurse of the Duchess of Clarides; but now as she had no more milk\nfor babies Maurille instead nursed the chickens in the poultry yard. It\nwas there that the master and squire found her. She cried: \u201cPsit! Psit!\npsit! psit! lil--lil--lil--lil--psit, psit, psit, psit!\u201d as she threw\ngrain to the chicks.\n\n\u201cPsit, psit, psit, psit! Is it you, your lordship? Psit, psit, psit! Is\nit possible that you have grown so tall--psit! and so handsome? Psit,\npsit! Shoo! shoo, shoo! Just look at that fat one there eating the\nlittle one\u2019s portion! Shoo, shoo, shoo! The way of the world, your\nlordship. Riches go the rich, lean ones grow leaner, while the fat ones\ngrow fatter. There\u2019s no justice on earth! What can I do for you, my\nlord? May I offer you each a glass of beer?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe will accept it gladly, Maurille, and I must embrace you because you\nnursed the mother of her whom I love best on earth.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s true, my lord, my foster child cut her first tooth at the age\nof six months and fourteen days. On which occasion the deceased duchess\nmade me a present. She did indeed.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow, Maurille, tell us all you know about the dwarfs who carried away\nHoney-Bee.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas, my lord, I know nothing of the dwarfs who carried her away. And\nhow can you expect an old woman like me to know anything? It\u2019s ages ago\nsince I forgot the little I ever knew, and I haven\u2019t even enough memory\nleft to remember where I put my spectacles. Sometimes I look for them\nwhen they\u2019re on my nose. Try this drink; it\u2019s fresh.\u201d\n\n\u201cHere\u2019s to your health, Maurille; but I was told that your husband knew\nsomething about the disappearance of Honey-Bee.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s true, your lordship. Though he never was taught anything he\nlearnt a great deal in the pothouses and the taverns. And he never\nforgot anything. Why if he were alive now and sitting at this table he\ncould tell you stories until to-morrow. He used to tell me so many that\nthey quite muddled my head and even now I can\u2019t tell the tail of one\nfrom the head of the other. That\u2019s true, your lordship.\u201d\n\nIndeed, it was true, for the head of the old nurse could only be\ncompared to a cracked soup-pot. It was with the greatest difficulty that\nGeorge and Francoeur got anything good out of it. Finally, however, by\nmeans of much repetition they did extract a tale which began somewhat as\nfollows:\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s seven years ago, your lordship, the very day you and Honey-Bee\nwent on that frolic from which neither of you ever returned. My deceased\nhusband went up the mountain to sell a horse. That\u2019s the truth. He fed\nthe beast with a good peck of oats soaked in cider to give him a firm\nleg and a brilliant eye; he took him to market near the mountain. He had\nno cause to regret his oats or his cider, for he sold his horse for\na much better price. Beasts are like human beings; one judges them by\ntheir appearance. My deceased husband was so rejoiced at his good stroke\nof business that he invited his friends to drink with him, and glass in\nhand he drank to their health.\n\n\u201cYou must know, your lordship, that there wasn\u2019t a man in all Clarides\ncould equal my husband when glass in hand he drank to the health of\nhis friends. So much so that on that day, after a number of such\ncompliments, when he returned alone at twilight he took the wrong\nroad for the reason that he could not recognise the right one. Finding\nhimself near a cavern he saw as distinctly as possible, considering his\ncondition and the hour, a crowd of little men carrying a girl or a boy\non a litter. He ran away for fear of ill-luck; for the wine had not\nrobbed him of prudence. But at some distance from the cavern he dropped\nhis pipe, and on stooping to pick it up he picked up instead a little\nsatin shoe. When he was in a good humour he used to amuse himself by\nsaying, \u2018It\u2019s the first time a pipe has changed into a shoe.\u2019 And as it\nwas the shoe of a little girl he decided that she who had lost it in the\nforest was the one who had been carried away by the dwarfs and that it\nwas this he had seen. He was about to put the shoe into his pocket when\na crowd of little men in hoods pounced down on him and gave him such a\nthrashing that he lay there quite stunned.\u201d\n\n\u201cMaurille! Maurille!\u201d cried George, \u201cit\u2019s Honey-Bee\u2019s shoe. Give it to\nme and I will kiss it a thousand times. It shall rest for ever on my\nheart, and when I die it shall be buried with me.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs you please, your lordship; but where will you find it? The dwarfs\ntook it away from my poor husband and he always thought that they only\ngave him such a sound thrashing because he wanted to put it in his\npocket to show to the magistrates. He used to say when he was in a good\nhumour----\u201d\n\n\u201cEnough--enough! Only tell me the name of the cavern!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is called the cavern of the dwarfs, your lordship, and very well\nnamed too. My deceased husband----\u201d\n\n\u201cNot another word, Maurille! But you. Francoeur, do you know where this\ncavern is?\u201d\n\n\u201cYour lordship,\u201d replied Francoeur as he emptied the pot of beer, \u201cyou\nwould certainly know it if you knew my songs better. I have written\nat least a dozen about this cavern, and I\u2019ve described it without even\nforgetting a single sprig of moss. I venture to say, your lordship, that\nof these dozen songs, six are of great merit. And even the other six are\nnot to be despised. I will sing you one or two....\u201d\n\n\u201cFrancoeur,\u201d cried George, \u201cwe will take possession of this cavern of\nthe dwarfs and rescue Honey-Bee.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course we will!\u201d replied Francoeur.\n\n\n\n\nXXI\n\n     In which a perilous adventure is described\n\nThat night when all were asleep George and Francoeur crept into the\nlower hall in search of weapons. Lances, swords, dirks, broadswords,\nhunting-knives and daggers glittered under the time-stained\nrafters--everything necessary to kill both man and brute. A complete\nsuit of armour stood upright under each beam in an attitude as resolute\nand proud as if it were still filled with the soul of the brave man it\nhad once decked for mighty adventures. The gauntlet grasped the lance in\nits ten iron fingers, while the shield rested against the plates of the\ngreaves as if to prove that prudence is necessary to courage, and that\nthe best fighter is armed as well for defence as for attack.\n\nFrom among all these suits of armour George chose the one that\nHoney-Bee\u2019s father had worn as far away as the isles of Avalon and\nThule. He donned it with the aid of Francoeur, nor did he forget the\nshield on which was emblazoned the golden sun of Clarides. As for\nFrancoeur, he put on a good old steel coat of mail of his grandfather\u2019s\nand on his head a casque of a bygone time, to which he attached a ragged\nand moth-eaten tuft or plume. This he chose merely as a matter of fancy\nand to give himself an air of rejoicing, for, as he justly reasoned,\ngaiety, which is good under every circumstance, is especially so in the\nface of great dangers.\n\nHaving thus armed themselves they passed under the light of the moon\ninto the dark open country. Francoeur had fastened the horses on\nthe edge of a little grove near the postern, and there he found them\nnibbling at the bark of the bushes; they were swift steeds, and it took\nthem less than an hour to reach the mountain of the dwarfs, through a\ncrowd of goblins and phantoms.\n\n\u201cHere is the cave,\u201d said Francoeur.\n\nMaster and man dismounted and, sword in hand, penetrated into the\ncavern. It required great courage to attempt such an adventure; but\nGeorge was in love and Francoeur was faithful, and this was a case in\nwhich one could say with the most delightful of poets:\n\n\u201cWhat may not friendship do with Love for guide!\u201d\n\nMaster and man had trudged through the gloom for nearly an hour when\nthey were astonished to see a brilliant light. It was one of the meteors\nwhich we know illumines the kingdom of the dwarfs. By the light of this\nsubterranean luminary they discovered that they were standing at the\nfoot of an ancient castle.\n\n\u201cThis,\u201d said George, \u201cis the castle we must capture.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo be sure,\u201d said Francceur; \u201cbut first permit me to drink a few drops\nof this wine which I brought with me as a precaution, because the better\nthe wine the better the man, and the better the man the better the\nlance, the better the lance the less dangerous the enemy.\u201d\n\nGeorge, seeing no living soul, struck the hilt of his sword sharply\nagainst the door of the castle. He looked up at the sound of a little\ntremulous voice, and he saw at one of the windows a little old man with\na long beard, who asked:\n\n\u201cWho are you!\u201d\n\n\u201cGeorge of Blanchelande.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who do you want?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have come to deliver Honey-Bee of Clarides whom you unjustly hold\ncaptive in your mole-hill, hideous little moles that you are!\u201d\n\nThe dwarf disappeared and again George was left alone with Francoeur who\nsaid to him:\n\n\u201cYour lordship, possibly I may exaggerate if I remark that in your\nanswer to the dwarf you have not quite exhausted all the persuasive\npowers of eloquence.\u201d\n\nFrancoeur was afraid of nothing, but he was old; his heart like his head\nwas polished by age, and he disliked to offend people.\n\nAs for George he stormed and clamoured at the top of his voice.\n\n\u201cVile dwellers in the earth, moles, badgers, dormice, ferrets, and\nwater-rats, open the door and I\u2019ll cut off all your ears.\u201d\n\nBut hardly had he uttered these words when the bronze door of the castle\nslowly opened of itself, for no one could be seen pushing back its\nenormous wings.\n\nGeorge was seized with terror and yet he sprang through the mysterious\ndoor because his courage was even greater than his terror. Entering the\ncourtyard he saw that all the windows, the galleries, the roofs, the\ngables, the skylights, and even the chimney-pots, were crowded with\ndwarfs armed with bows and cross-bows.\n\nHe heard the bronze door close behind him and suddenly a shower of\narrows fell thick and fast on his head and shoulders, and for the\nsecond time he was filled with a great fear, and for the second time he\nconquered his fear.\n\nSword in hand and his shield on his arm he mounted the steps until\nsuddenly he perceived on the very highest, a majestic dwarf who stood\nthere in serene dignity, gold sceptre in hand and wearing the royal\ncrown and the purple mantle. And in this dwarf he recognised the little\nman who had delivered him out of his crystal dungeon.\n\nThereupon he threw himself at his feet and cried weeping:\n\n\u201cO my benefactor, who are you? Are you one of those who have robbed me\nof Honey-Bee, whom I love?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am King Loc,\u201d replied the dwarf. \u201cI have kept Honey-Bee with me\nto teach her the wisdom of the dwarfs. Child, you have fallen into my\nkingdom like a hail-storm in a garden of flowers. But the dwarfs, less\nweak than men, are never angered as are they. My intelligence raises me\ntoo high above you for me to resent your actions whatever they are. And\nof all the attributes that render me superior to you that which I guard\nmost jealously is justice. Honey-Bee shall be brought before me and I\nwill ask her if she wishes to follow you. This I do, not because you\ndesire it, but because I must.\u201d\n\nA great silence ensued and Honey-Bee appeared attired all in white and\nwith flowing golden hair. No sooner did she see George than she ran\nand threw herself in his arms and clasped his iron breast with all her\nstrength.\n\nThen King Loc said to her:\n\n\u201cHoney-Bee, is it true that this is the man you wish to marry?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is true, very true that this is he, little King Loc,\u201d replied\nHoney-Bee. \u201cSee, all you little men, how I laugh and how happy I am.\u201d\n\nAnd she began to weep. Her tears fell on her lover\u2019s face, but they were\ntears of joy; and with them were mingled tiny bursts of laughter and a\nthousand endearing words without sense, like the lisp of a little child.\nShe quite forgot that the sight of her joy might sadden the heart of\nKing Loc.\n\n\u201cMy beloved,\u201d said George, \u201cI find you again such as I had longed for:\nthe fairest and dearest of beings. You love me! Thank heaven, you\nlove me! But, Honey-Bee, do you not also love King Loc a little, who\ndelivered me out of the glass dungeon in which the nixies held me\ncaptive far away from you?\u201d\n\nHoney-Bee turned to King Loc.\n\n\u201cLittle King Loc, and did you do this?\u201d she cried. \u201cYou loved me, and\nyet you rescued the one I love and who loves me----\u201d\n\nWords failed her and she fell on her knees, her head in her hands.\n\nAll the little men who witnessed this scene deluged their cross-bows\nwith tears. Only King Loc remained serene. And Honcy-Bee, overcome by\nhis magnanimity and his goodness, felt for him the love of a daughter\nfor a father.\n\nShe took her lover\u2019s hand.\n\n\u201cGeorge,\u201d she said, \u201cI love you. God knows how much I love you. But how\ncan I leave little King Loc?\u201d\n\n\u201cHallo, there?\u201d King Loc cried in a terrible voice, \u201cnow you are my\nprisoners!\u201d\n\nBut this terrible voice he only used for fun and just as a joke, for he\nreally was not at all angry. Here Francoeur approached and knelt before\nhim.\n\n\u201cSire,\u201d he cried, \u201cmay it please your Majesty to let me share the\ncaptivity of the masters I serve?\u201d\n\nSaid Honey-Bee, recognising him:\n\n\u201cIs it you, my good Francoeur? How glad I am to see you again. What a\nhorrid cap you\u2019ve got on! Tell me, have you composed any new songs?\u201d\n\nAnd King Loc took them all three to dinner.\n\n\n\n\nXXII\n\n     In which all ends well\n\nThe next morning Honey-Bee, George and Francoeur again arrayed\nthemselves in the splendid garments prepared for them by the dwarfs, and\nproceeded to the banquet-hall where, as he had promised, King Loc,\nin the robes of an Emperor, soon joined them. He was followed by his\nofficers fully armed, and covered with furs of barbarous magnificence,\nand in their helmets the wings of swans. Crowds of hurrying dwarfs came\nin through the windows, the air-holes and the chimneys, and rolled under\nthe benches.\n\nKing Loc mounted a stone table one end of which was laden with flagons,\ncandelabra, tankards, and cups of gold of marvellous workmanship. He\nsigned to Honey-Bee and to George to approach.\n\n\u201cHoney-Bee,\u201d he said, \u201cby a law of the nation of the dwarfs it is\ndecreed that a stranger received in our midst shall be free after seven\nyears. You have been with us seven years, Honey-Bee, and I should be a\ndisloyal citizen and a blameworthy king should I keep you longer. But\nbefore permitting you to go I wish, not having been able to wed you\nmyself, to betroth you to the one you have chosen. I do so with joy for\nI love you more than I love myself, and my pain, if such remains, is\nlike a little cloud which your happiness will dispel. Honey-Bee of\nClarides, Princess of the Dwarfs, give me your hand, and you, George of\nBlanchelande, give me yours.\u201d\n\nPlacing the hand of George in the hand of Honey-Bee he turned to his\npeople and said with a ringing voice:\n\n\u201cLittle men, my children, you bear witness that these two pledge\nthemselves to marry one another on earth. They shall go back together\nand together help courage, modesty, and fidelity to blossom, as roses,\npinks, and peonies bloom for good gardeners.\u201d\n\nAt these words the dwarfs burst into a mighty shout, but not knowing\nif they ought to grieve or to rejoice, they were torn by conflicting\nemotions.\n\nKing Loc, again turning to the lovers, said as he pointed to the\nflagons, the tankards, all the beautiful art of the goldsmith:\n\n\u201cBehold the gifts of the dwarfs. Take them, Honey-Bee, they will remind\nyou of your little friends. It is their gift to you, not mine. What I am\nabout to give you, you shall know before long.\u201d\n\nA lengthy silence ensued.\n\nWith an expression sublime in its tenderness, King Loc gazed at\nHoney-Bee, whose beautiful and radiant head, crowned by roses, rested on\nher lover\u2019s shoulder.\n\nThen he continued:\n\n\u201cMy children, it is not enough to love passionately; you must also\nlove well. A passionate love is good doubtless, but a beautiful love\nis better. May you have as much strength as gentleness; may it lack\nnothing, not even forbearance, and let even a little compassion be\nmingled with it. You are young, fair and good; but you are human,\nand because of this capable of much suffering. If then something of\ncompassion does not enter into the feelings you have one for the other,\nthese feelings will not always befit all the circumstances of your life\ntogether; they will be like festive robes that will not shield you from\nwind and rain. We love truly only those we love even in their weakness\nand their poverty. To forbear, to forgive, to console, that alone is the\nscience of love.\u201d\n\nKing Loc paused, seized by a gentle but strong emotion.\n\n\u201cMy children,\u201d he then continued; \u201cmay you be happy; guard your\nhappiness well, guard it well.\u201d\n\nWhile he addressed them Pic, Tad, Dig, Bob, True, and Pau clung to\nHoney-Bee\u2019s white mantle and covered her hands and arms with kisses and\nthey implored her not to leave them. Thereupon King Loc took from his\ngirdle a ring set with a glittering gem. It was the magic ring which had\nunclosed the dungeon of the nixies. He placed it on Honey-Bee\u2019s finger.\n\n\u201cHoney-Bee,\u201d he said, \u201creceive from my hand this ring which will permit\nyou, you and your husband, to enter at any hour the kingdom of the\ndwarfs. You will be welcomed with joy and succoured at need. In return\nteach the children that will be yours not to despise the little men, so\ninnocent and industrious, who dwell under the earth.\u201d","title":"Honey-Bee: 1911","tradition":"folklore-oral-tradition","translated_text":null,"word_count":21664}