{"collection":"folklore-oral-tradition","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_66124/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_66124","id":"gutenberg_66124","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66124","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Adventure","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","Category: Short Stories","Children's stories","Fairy tales"],"text":"THE STARLIGHT WONDER BOOK\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: _Long and hard fought Thyrza, and presently a great gust\nof the gale swept her against the Bell of the Sea_]\n\n\n\n\n  _The_ STARLIGHT WONDER BOOK\n\n  _By_ HENRY B. BESTON\n\n\n  AUTHOR OF\n  _The_ FIRELIGHT FAIRY BOOK\n\n[Illustration]\n\n  WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY MAURICE DAY\n\n  _The_ ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS\n  BOSTON\n\n\n\n\n  COPYRIGHT 1923 BY THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS, INC.\n\n\n  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA\n\n\n\n\n  _To_\n  MISS MABEL DAVISON\n  MY WAR-TIME GODMOTHER\n  _with the_\n  HOMAGE\n  _and_\n  GRATEFUL AFFECTION\n  _of_\n  H\u00b7B\u00b7B\u00b7\n\n\n[Illustration]\n\n\n\n\n CONTENTS\n\n\n                                               PAGE\n THE BRAVE GRENADIER                              3\n THE PALACE OF THE NIGHT                         21\n THE ENCHANTED BABY                              45\n THE TWO MILLERS                                 69\n THE ADAMANT DOOR                                89\n THE CITY OF THE WINTER SLEEP                   110\n AILEEL AND AILINDA                             131\n THE WONDERFUL TUNE                             151\n THE MAN OF THE WILDWOOD                        174\n THE MAIDEN OF THE MOUNTAIN                     193\n THE BELL OF THE EARTH AND THE BELL OF THE SEA  215\n THE WOOD BEYOND THE WORLD                      239\n\n\n\n\n ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n                                                                    PAGE\n\n THE BELL OF THE EARTH AND THE BELL OF THE SEA\n _Long and hard fought Thyrza, and presently a great gust of the\n gale swept her against the Bell of the Sea_                Frontispiece\n\n THE BRAVE GRENADIER\n _Suddenly the soldier\u2019s foot dislodged a piece of clattering stone,\n and the hippodrac awoke_                                             13\n\n THE PALACE OF THE NIGHT\n _The image in the mirror stood still_                                35\n\n THE ENCHANTED BABY\n _Over hill, over dale, in a long straight line, fled the Master\n Thief with the golden perambulator_                                  57\n\n THE TWO MILLERS\n _He lifted a moistened finger to the air. Good heavens, there wasn\u2019t\n a breath of wind!_                                                   85\n\n THE ADAMANT DOOR\n _Summoning up all his courage, Hugh threw open the adamant door_    105\n\n THE CITY OF THE WINTER SLEEP\n _The runaway Princess stepped forth into the dark street and, taper\n in hand, hurried to the gate of the city wall_                      117\n\n AILEEL AND AILINDA\n _And now, all at once, there were cries and shouts of alarm. \u201cRun!\n Run, everybody! The bird! Oh, see the bird!\u201d_                       149\n\n THE WONDERFUL TUNE\n _\u201cNo, I do not agree with you,\u201d shouted the Lord Organist_          171\n\n THE MAN OF THE WILDWOOD\n _Before him stood the Man of the Wildwood_                          187\n\n THE MAIDEN OF THE MOUNTAIN\n _For a long moment Leoline, awed yet unafraid, gazed at the Giant\n of the Mountain_                                                    203\n\n THE BELL OF THE EARTH AND THE BELL OF THE SEA\n _And stowing the Bell of the Earth in the hold of his ship, the\n young Captain sailed eastward and southward through the sea_        229\n\n THE WOOD BEYOND THE WORLD\n _Fidelia knelt at the edge of the pool, and filled her golden cup\n with the waters of memory_                                          257\n\n\n\n\nTHE STARLIGHT WONDER BOOK\n\n\n\n\nTHE BRAVE GRENADIER\n\n\nOnce upon a time, during a great battle which was fought through the\nnight in a tempest of lightning and rain, a brave young grenadier came\nupon one of the enemy lying sorely wounded on the field. Taking pity\nupon his foeman, the soldier bound up his wounds and carried him from\nthe battle to the shelter of a little wood. Scarce had the wounded\nyouth opened his eyes, when amid a blinding flash of lightning and\na peal of tumbling thunder, a green chariot drawn by green dragons\nrushed downward through the hurrying clouds and sank to earth at the\nsoldier\u2019s side. Bidding the dragons be still, a tall, dark, and stately\nman wearing a long green mantle descended from the chariot, took the\nwounded lad in his arms, and thus addressed the grenadier:--\n\n\u201cGenerous friend, to you I owe the life of my youngest son. I am the\nEnchanter of the Green Glen. Take you this little green wand in memory\nof the great debt I owe you. Whatsoever you strike once with it will\ncontinue to grow larger till you cry \u2018stop\u2019; whatsoever you strike\ntwice with it will grow smaller till you bid the magic cease. Farewell,\nbrave soldier, and may good fortune walk forever by your side.\u201d\n\nThen, wrapping his wide green mantle about the body of his son, the\nWizard bade his scaly, yellow-eyed dragons be on their way, and\nvanished on high in the tempest and the dark.\n\nAnd now the wars were over and done, and the soldier found himself\nmustered out and turned loose to earn his living in the world. Still\nclad in his grenadier\u2019s uniform, and wearing his blue greatcoat\nbuttoned close about him, he slung his knapsack to his shoulder,\nfastened it to his belt in front by crossed straps of white leather,\nput on his big shiny hat, and turned from the camp over the hills and\nfar away.\n\nIt was the early autumn of the year: great roaring gusts swept by\noverhead, singing shrilly through the withered leaves still clinging to\nthe branches, apples lay red ripe in the frost-nipped grass, and the\ncountry folk were gleaning in the stubble of the fields. On through the\nvillages went the soldier, hoping to find work for the winter among the\nfarms; he knocked at this door and at that, but ever in vain. Presently\nthe mighty summits of the Adamant Mountains, gleaming with new-fallen\nsnow, rose beyond the bare woods and the lonely fields. Following the\ngreat royal road, the soldier tramped on into the very heart of the\nmountain mass.\n\n\u201cPerhaps I shall meet with better luck in the kingdoms beyond the\npeaks,\u201d thought the grenadier, as he trudged along. How still it was!\nNow the soldier could hear the roaring of the river in the gorge below\nthe road, now the cry of the eagles circling high above some desolate\ncrag.\n\nAt high noon on the third day, the soldier arrived at the brazen\ncolumn which marks the descent of the royal road to the kingdoms beyond\nthe hills. A biting wind, keen with the smell of snow, blew from the\nsurrounding peaks, and made the soldier very hungry indeed. Sheltering\nhimself against the giant column, he slipped his knapsack from his\nshoulder, and looked within for the last of the bread and cheese which\na good wife of the mountain villages had given him the day before.\nAlas, there was but the tiniest crust of bread to be found, and the\nlittlest crumb of cheese! Suddenly, as he fished about in the sack, the\ngrenadier discovered the little green wand. He had quite forgotten it.\nA notion came into his head to try the magic, and he struck the bit of\nbread one smart tap.\n\nThe moment he did so, the fragment of bread bounced a few inches into\nthe air, and fell back to the ground; soon it was the size of a loaf\nof bread; a moment or two later the loaf had grown to the size of a\ntable; soon the mass of bread was the size of a small house. And it\nwas growing, growing, growing.\n\n\u201cStop!\u201d cried the soldier. The magic ceased. The soldier struck the\nmountain of bread _twice_.\n\nAgain it leaped into the air, but this time it began to grow less. Like\nto a candle end in the fire, it began to vanish before the soldier\u2019s\neyes. Presently it was once more the size of a generous loaf, and thus\nthe soldier bade it remain. Next he enchanted the bit of cheese to an\nample size, and found himself provided with victuals fit for a king.\nLater, when he had eaten his fill, he amused himself by enchanting a\npebble into a great rock. And that rock may be seen in the Adamant\nMountains _to this very day_!\n\nAt the end of a week\u2019s journey the soldier reached the Golden Plain,\nwhich lies between the Adamant Mountains and the sea.\n\nNow at the time of the soldier\u2019s arrival, the people of the Golden\nPlain were being day by day swept to hunger and ruin by the devastation\nwrought throughout their land by a hippodrac. Driven by hunger, so\nsome thought, from its stony lair in the forests of the sun, this\nterrible creature had suddenly swooped down on the harvest fields a\nmonth before, and had roamed the land till the precious grain had for\nthe most part been consumed or destroyed. Worse yet, the hippodrac was\neven then breaking open the royal granaries, in which lay such grain as\nthe citizens had been able to store away.\n\nThis terrible creature, I must tell you, was a kind of fearsome winged\nhorse. It was larger than any earthly animal, black as midnight in\ncolor, and armored over the chest and head with a sheath of dragon\u2019s\nscales. Add to this a pair of giant wings, black and lustrous as\na raven\u2019s, a wicked horse-like head with huge jaws, hoofs of blue\nsteel, and an appetite like a devouring flame, and you will see that\nthe people of the Golden Plain had true cause for alarm. Black wings\noutspread, blue hoofs plunging, roaring from the fiery pits of its\nviolet nostrils, the hippodrac was master in the land.\n\nIn the hope of ridding themselves of the monster, the people of the\nGolden Plain offered a huge treasure to whosoever might conquer the\ninvader. In true soldier fashion the grenadier resolved to fight the\nhippodrac, and win fame and fortune at a blow.\n\nNow the Lord Chancellor of the realm, who ruled the land during the\nminority of the Princess Mirabel, had no intention whatever of paying\nthe promised reward. Not only had this wicked man stolen so much money\nfrom the royal treasury that scarce was a penny left, but also was he\nmiserly, cruel, and avaricious. Torn between fear of the hippodrac\nand fear of having to empty his own money-bags of the stolen gold in\norder to pay the reward, the Chancellor wandered back and forth all day\nthrough the castle halls. Thus far, however, no one had ever returned\nto claim the treasure.\n\nAfter talking with some who had seen the hippodrac, the soldier\nretired to a little inn to make his plans. Sitting alone in a great\nsettle by the fire, he watched the flames grow ruddier as the afternoon\nsun sank below the western hills. Presently it was night, a night\nquiet, cool, and bright with great winter stars.\n\nThe grenadier made his way unobserved out of the royal city, and soon\narrived in the midst of the ruined and trampled fields. Here the grain\nhad been gathered, bound in sheaves, and left to perish when the\nharvesters fled; here the uncut stalks had withered in the ground; here\nstood a house from which everyone had run for his life. Presently the\nsoldier beheld, standing apart on a lonely hill, the crumbling towers\nof the ruined castle which served as the hippodrac\u2019s den.\n\nA late, wasted, half-moon began to rise. The soldier made his way up\nthe slope, and peered through the doorless portal into the moonlit ruin.\n\nAt the end of the great entrance-hall of the castle, its monstrous\nhead resting on the lowest step of the winding stair which led to the\nroofless banqueting-hall above, lay the monster. The rays of the waning\nmoon, slanting through the broken tracery of a great window, fell on\nits vast bulk; a rumbling breathing alone disturbed the starry silence\nof the night.\n\n\u201cI must make my way down those stairs,\u201d said the grenadier to himself,\nand crept off to seek a way to the banqueting hall above. Finally he\nmanaged to find a little stairway in a ruined turret. Creeping along\nsoftly, ever so softly, over the floor of the banqueting hall, he\nreached the head of the great stair and looked down its curving steps\nto the monster asleep below. Then, step by step by step, the grenadier\napproached the hippodrac.\n\nSuddenly the soldier\u2019s foot dislodged a piece of clattering stone. The\nhippodrac awoke with a scream, but the soldier struck it _two_ swift\ntaps with the little green wand.\n\nThe instant he did so, the hippodrac uttered a cry of fright and rage\nwhich waked the good folk of the city in their beds, and bounced, wings\nbeating wildly, in the air. The grenadier took refuge at the head of\nthe balustrade. Smaller and smaller grew the furious and bewildered\nbeast. Now it had shrunk to the size of a pony, now it had dwindled to\nthe size of a dog, now it was scarce larger than a kitten.\n\n\u201cStop!\u201d cried the grenadier. Wild with fright, the tiny monster took\nwing, and fluttered like a terrified bird into a corner of the ruins.\nAnd there, beating about and flapping its wings madly, the grenadier\ncaught it in his high hat, and shook it into his knapsack. This done,\nhe walked swiftly back to the inn, and went to bed.\n\nNow one of the Lord Chancellor\u2019s rascals had been on watch for his\nreturn, and when the grenadier returned with the light of victory in\nhis eyes, this spy ran to inform his rogue of a master. Suspecting\nmagic of some kind, the wicked Chancellor made his way to the inn, and\nstole the green wand while the soldier slept.\n\n[Illustration: _Suddenly the soldier\u2019s foot dislodged a piece of\nclattering stone, and the hippodrac awoke_]\n\nEarly the next morning, the soldier sent word to the counselors of\ncourt that he had mastered the hippodrac, and waited their good\npleasure to prove the truth of his word. Within a very short time a\nroyal messenger appeared, summoning him before the assembled court at\nthe tenth hour.\n\nAnd now the soldier, carrying the tiny hippodrac in his knapsack, was\nled to the judgment hall of the royal palace. The Princess Mirabel sat\non the throne of the realm, whilst the Lord Chancellor stood by her\nside, a smile of triumph on his wicked lips. But the soldier had eyes\nonly for the young Princess, who was as fair as the first wild rose of\nthe year. As for the Princess, it must be confessed that she thought\nthe stalwart young grenadier with the black hair and the blue eyes\nquite the most pleasant person she had ever seen.\n\nSimply and modestly the grenadier told the story of his capture of the\nhippodrac. Leaning forward a little, the Princess listened eagerly.\n\n\u201cAnd your proof of this--?\u201d questioned the Lord Chancellor.\n\n\u201cIs here,\u201d replied the grenadier, and opening his knapsack, he took\nfrom it the hippodrac and placed it on the carpet just before the\nthrone. As the soldier had taken the precaution to clip the monster\u2019s\nwings, the tiny thing could do naught but dance with rage on its little\nblue hoofs, and lash out madly right and left in a frenzy of fear.\nA murmur of astonishment rose from the assembly. There was a great\ncraning of necks. All present looked at the Lord Chancellor to hear\nwhat he might say.\n\n\u201cThat little thing, the great hippodrac?\u201d said the Lord Chancellor,\nevilly. \u201cPooh! \u2019T is a juggler\u2019s kitten, rather. I shall give no reward\nfor this.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou dare?\u201d cried the grenadier fiercely. \u201cWait!\u201d And he reached in his\npocket for the little green wand, but, alas, the little green wand was\ngone.\n\n\u201cPooh!\u201d said the Chancellor again, watching, with contented eyes, the\npoor grenadier madly thrusting his hands into every pocket, \u201cYou see he\ncannot do as he pretends. The fellow is an impostor. Ho, guards! Take\nthis rogue and his dancing kitten off to prison.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut it looks like the hippodrac,\u201d protested the Princess.\n\n\u201cNo! Not a bit of it, not a bit of it!\u201d roared the Chancellor. And\nhe quickly silenced all those who were fain to see justice done, by\nthreatening to send any objector to the royal diamond-mines in the\nAdamant Mountains.\n\nLeft to himself in a lonely cell of the royal prison, the poor\ngrenadier awaited the day of his departure for the mines. Finding the\ntime hang heavy on his hands, he amused himself by trying to tame\nthe tiny hippodrac. To his surprise and pleasure, the fierce little\ncreature made a swift response. Soon it was eating crumbs from his\nhand. In a fortnight it could spell out words and letters by tapping\nthe floor with its right foreleg! And day by day, its clipped wings\ngrew once more to full size.\n\n\u201cOh, if you could only get me my green wand again!\u201d said the soldier\none morning.\n\nAt these words, the hippodrac beat an excited tattoo on the table, and\nbefore the soldier could seize it, spread its little gleaming wings,\nand fled through the barred window out into the world.\n\nAll day long the soldier waited its return. \u201cIt has flown away\nforever,\u201d he thought, as twilight fell. A moment later, however, he\nheard a whir of tiny wings, and the hippodrac returned, the little\ngreen wand in its jaws. You may well believe that the soldier was\noverjoyed! That very night he found means to send a petition to the\nPrincess, asking to be brought before her that he might at last prove\nthe truth of his story.\n\nNow the Chancellor, knowing that his wicked scheme had succeeded,\nand never dreaming of the possibility of the grenadier\u2019s escape, had\ngone a-hunting: so the Princess took matters into her own hands, and\nnext morning summoned the grenadier before the court. Alas! Just as\nthe grenadier reached the throne, the Chancellor, hastily summoned by\nanother of his rascally spies, came striding angrily into the judgment\nhall.\n\n\u201cWhat means this?\u201d he roared. \u201cHow came that fellow to be out of\nprison? Ho, guards, take him back at once!\u201d\n\n\u201cNo!\u201d said the little Princess bravely. \u201cI believe in him, and he shall\nhave justice in my realm!\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you dare defy me?\u201d cried the Chancellor. \u201cGuards, do your duty! I\nam Regent here.\u201d\n\nA handful of soldiers strode toward the grenadier. With a smile on his\nlips and in his eyes, the grenadier struck the hippodrac _one_ smart\ntap with the magic wand.\n\nThe creature bounced, and instantly began to increase in size; suddenly\nit snorted fiercely and reared on its hind legs; once again it screamed\neven such a scream as it had uttered when the grenadier enchanted it\nin the ruined castle. People began to fly pell-mell in every direction.\nOnly Mirabel, who was a lass of spirit, stood her ground.\n\nWhen the hippodrac had reached its full size, the soldier cried \u201cStop!\u201d\nThen, for a moment, the monster and the man gazed directly into each\nother\u2019s eyes. The soldier still smiled.\n\n_The hippodrac had understood._\n\nUttering now the angriest cry of all, the creature darted forward, and\nseized the Lord Chancellor by the scruff of his ugly neck. Then opening\nwide its giant wings, it leaped up on all four legs, and flying down\nthe vast hall, crashed through a great window and out into the freedom\nof the cloudless sky. So terrified was it by its experiences, that it\nflew back to its lair in the forests of the sun, and never bothered\nanybody any more.\n\nOn the way home, while flying at a great height, it got bored with\ncarrying the Lord Chancellor and let him drop. No one has since heard\nof this personage. No one ever will.\n\nWhen the excitement subsided, the citizens hailed the grenadier as\nthe preserver of their country and offered him the treasure which the\nChancellor had stolen away. But the grenadier had already found a\ntreasure much more to his liking--the Princess Mirabel. The handsome\nyoung couple were married with great pomp and ceremony on New Year\u2019s\nday.\n\nAnd thus the brave grenadier became a king, and with Mirabel by his\nside, ruled over the Golden Plain for many a long and happy year.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PALACE OF THE NIGHT\n\n\nOnce upon a time there was an Emperor of the Isles, who had but one\nson, the Prince Porphyrio. On the day which beheld the Prince\u2019s coming\nof age, the Emperor summoned the youth to his council chamber, and said\nto him:--\n\n\u201cDear son, when you were a little child, I pledged to you the hand of\nthe Lady Liria, daughter of my friend and ally, the Emperor of the\nPlain. You are now of age, and I would fain send you forth to find the\nPrincess and win her for your own.\u201d\n\nThen replied the tall, golden-haired Prince, \u201cDear father, give me but\na brave ship and a gallant crew, and I will this very eve set sail for\nthe Emperor\u2019s city and greet the Lady Liria.\u201d\n\nPleased with this speech, the Emperor gave orders that a fine ship be\nswiftly prepared for the voyage. And this was done.\n\nAnd now it was night, and the vessel lay waiting, her sails gleaming\ngreen-white in the moonlight, her ladder shrouds gently swaying against\nthe pale and starry sky. When came the ebb of the midnight tide, the\nanchors were weighed, the great sails trimmed to the breeze, and the\nvessel piloted forth to the measureless plain of the sea.\n\nNow it came to pass, as the great ship sped upon her furrowed way, that\nPorphyrio took it into his head to visit the Fair of the Golden Bear,\nand fled before the wind to the festival city. Little by little--for\nthe air was but light--the ship left behind her the blue of the deeps,\nand entered the green waters of the shallows. Suddenly there was a\ncry of \u201cLand Ho!\u201d and from afar, over the landward hastening waves,\nPorphyrio beheld the great tower of the Fair. A giant golden image of\na bear, standing erect, crowned the high tower-top, and shone dully\nbright above the haze.\n\nAt sundown the Prince, accompanied by his mariners, found himself in\nthe midst of the great Fair, in the very heart of the din, the medley\nof outlandish costumes, the babel of strange tongues, and the shrill\ncries of the shopmen and the merchants. Surely there was never such a\nmarket place as the Fair of the Golden Bear!\n\nEverything in the world was there to be bought and sold. At one booth\na venerable man in a scholar\u2019s gown and velvet cap sold words--rare\nwords, rich words, strange words, beautiful words, and drove a brisk\ntrade with a crowd of poets and lovers; at another an old woman in\ngreen sold rosy glasses to those who were at outs with the world; and\nat still another a joyous fellow in blue offered sunbeams, which he had\ncaught in a mirror and imprisoned in bits of magic glass.\n\nPorphyrio was quite delighted with the sunbeams, which shone night\nand day, like diamonds aflame with golden fires. \u201cThe Lady Liria will\nsurely be pleased with one of these,\u201d thought he, and purchased the\nfinest of all.\n\nNow it came to pass that, as he walked about the Fair with his retinue\nof sailor-men, Porphyrio caught sight of a rustic fellow in brown\ncorduroys who was carrying a sea bird in a wicker cage. And because he\nloved the wild folk of the sea, the Prince said to the countryman:--\n\n\u201cGood friend, whither go you with your bird?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo the animal merchants, sir,\u201d replied the fellow. \u201c\u2019Tis a wild bird\nwhich I found in my field on a morning after a storm. Only look, sir;\nit wears a circle of feathers on its head, for all the world like a\ncrown.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, so it does!\u201d said the young Prince. \u201cCome, will you sell him to\nme?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh yes, indeed, sir,\u201d replied the countryman. \u201c\u2019Tis yours for a florin\nof gold and a penny of silver.\u201d And he held out his hand for the sum.\n\n\u201cGood!\u201d said Porphyrio, and he paid the money. Then, to the\ncountryman\u2019s amazement, he threw open the door of the cage, and\nallowed the sea bird to escape. With a glad cry, and a mighty beating\nof its gray wings, the creature climbed into a splendor of the sunset,\ndwindled to a black speck, and vanished from their eyes.\n\nOnce more the Prince set sail. For a few days the weather remained\ntranquil and fair. Then came a night of cloud, and a rushing wind,\nwhich increased during the day to a hurricane. Now arose a great din,\nthe howling of the wind through the shrouds, the cracking and straining\nof the timbers of the ship, the cries of the sailors, and the roaring\nand foaming of the deep. All night long, through the wild ocean dark,\nthe Prince\u2019s ship drifted nearer and nearer the unknown waters of the\nSouthern Sea. Suddenly, just before the dawn, a tremendous noise was\nheard; the vessel trembled throughout her length, and crashing down\nonce more on a hidden reef, broke apart. A huge wave swept Porphyrio\nfrom the deck, some wreckage hurled itself upon him, and he knew no\nmore.\n\nWhen he woke again, close upon noon, he found that the waves had\ncarried him to the stony beach of a dark and unknown isle. A stately\nwall of cliffs of the strangest dark-blue stone girdled it about; to\nthe left, to the right, the rampart swept, solemn, unscalable, and\nhuge. One broken mast of the Prince\u2019s ship still rose forlorn above the\ntumbling waters on the reefs; but of the gallant crew there was never a\nsign. With a heavy heart Porphyrio trudged off to look for shelter and\nfor aid. Long hours followed he the curving shore, even till the sun,\nwhich had been shining in his face, little by little crept to the side\nand shone behind, yet never a way to the headland\u2019s height stood forth\nin the sheer and sombre wall.\n\nAnd now, of a sudden, and by great good fortune,--for the tide was\nrising,--Porphyrio, turning the base of an advancing crag, found\nhimself close by a noble promontory that sloped from the cliff-top to\nfoundations in the sea. Half climbing, half dragging himself along the\nstones and terraces of this ridge, the Prince attained at last the\nheight of the blue wall.\n\nA great dark isle lay open before him--a solitary isle of shadowy\nlands, gloomy woods, and rocks and hillocks of the same dark stone he\nhad marked before. Save for the faint murmur of the encircling sea\nbelow and the sighing of the wind, the isle was as silent as a land\nbeneath the deep: indeed, so still and dark it was, that it seemed as\nif the night reigned there, forever untroubled by the day. In the very\nheart of the gloom, its mighty walls and blue battlements lifted high\nagainst cloud mountains gathered in the west, a stately palace rose.\n\nAfter a long, winding journey through a wood dark as a leafy cave,\nPorphyrio arrived at the portals of the dwelling.\n\nThe palace was as silent as a stone. Of silver were its massy doors,\nand they were sealed and barred, and from turret to foundation stone\nits windows were with silver shutters closed against the day. Not a\nsign or a memory of living things was there to be seen.\n\nWondering in his heart at the mystery, Porphyrio presently made his way\ninto a noble garden, wherein were pools and basins of blue water rimmed\nabout with silver, and tall, dark trees stately as night. Again to his\nwonderment, the Prince beheld that the flowers in the garden were such\nas opened only in the night--the pale, fragrant jasmine hid there, the\nmoonflower dreamed, and the shy star-daisy gathered her petals before\nher face.\n\nSuddenly the Prince heard steps behind him, and turning swiftly, beheld\na fair Princess gazing at him with eyes in which wonder, alarm, and\nhope might all be seen.\n\n\u201cSpeak! Who are you? What do you here?\u201d said the Princess quickly.\n\nTo this Porphyrio replied that he was a prince who had been shipwrecked\non a voyage. And he told the Princess of his adventures.\n\n\u201cAlas,\u201d replied the lady, \u201cYou have come to the dark land! Know you\nnot into whose power you have fallen? This dark isle is the dwelling\nof the Magician of the Night, who rules the fairy world from sunset to\nthe morn. When comes the dawn, his mighty power wanes, and he and his\npeople of the night hasten to this locked and shuttered palace, here to\nlie hidden from the sunlight which is their enemy and deadly fear. I\nalone go forth, for I, alas, am a mortal. But hearken to my story.\n\n\u201cI am the Princess Liria (Porphyrio started). My father is the Emperor\nof the Plain. On midsummer eve, as I was walking with my handmaidens\nin the garden, a messenger from my father arrived bidding me come at\nonce to the great hall of state. I obeyed the message, and going to the\nhall, found there the Magician of the Night, who had just presented\na haughty petition for my hand. Because of his fear of the Magician,\nmy father was very ill at ease. All looked to me for an answer. I\nreplied courteously that, though I felt highly honored at the demand,\nI nevertheless felt bound to refuse, for I had been affianced since\nchildhood to another. For you must know, good Prince, that my father\nwas long the true friend and ally of the Emperor of the Isles, and had\npledged my hand to his only son, the Prince Porphyrio.\n\n\u201cWould that this were all I had to tell! But--woe to me!--scarce had\nthe Magician, with a mocking smile, bowed low and disappeared into\nthe night, when a terrible storm of his contriving descended upon our\nunfortunate city, overturning our tallest towers and strewing ruin far\nand wide. Our torches quenched by the rain and wind, my maidens and I\ntook refuge in a great chamber of the north turret. At the height of\nthe storm the wind suddenly burst open the double portals, there came\na great flash of lightning and a roar of thunder, and I beheld the\nMagician standing tall and motionless between the doors, surrounded by\na dozen of his creatures of the night. I cried out, but his servants\nseized me and led me forth; great wings bore me upward through the very\ntorment of the heavens, a darkness fell on me, and I knew no more.\nWhen I awoke, I found myself here in the Palace of the Night.\n\n\u201cFarewell, dear land of the Golden Plain, whose harvests I shall never\nmore see! Farewell, dear Prince Porphyrio of the Isles!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I am Porphyrio!\u201d cried the Prince, \u201cand I was on my way to find\nyou, noble Liria, when the storm swept me to this isle.\u201d\n\nYou may be sure the heart of the Princess leaped when she heard these\ntidings!\n\nForgetting that he was himself but a shipwrecked wanderer much in need\nof aid, the Prince, like the brave fellow that he was, could think of\nnothing but of rescuing his lady from the dark magician; as for the\nPrincess, she could think of naught but the plight of Porphyrio, tossed\nfriendless and forlorn upon the isle. But at length she shook her head\nand smiled.\n\n\u201cTo-day,\u201d said she, \u201cis mine, and to-morrow also; but the Magician\nhas bidden me be prepared for the wedding feast by sundown on the\nfollowing day. But, look, the shield of the sun breaks the storm clouds\nclose above the waters; twilight approaches; the hour of the magician\nis at hand; you must go. Hide yourself well to-night, and come to the\ngarden to-morrow when the chimes ring thrice. On yon dark wall you will\nfind some strangely shaped fruits growing; fear not to eat of them when\nyou hunger. Liria the Unhappy bids you farewell, Prince Porphyrio.\u201d\n\n\u201cFarewell, Princess,\u201d replied Porphyrio. \u201cDo not despair. We shall yet\noutwit the dark Magician!\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd now the Prince lay hid in the heart of a great tree, watching\nthe doors and windows of the palace slowly opening in the twilight.\nSuddenly huge bells swung forth in waves of heavy sound, strange\nmusic played, and the thousand windows filled with the magic glow of\nmoon-fire. All night long the people of the night held festival; but\nat the break of dawn the silver windows closed slowly on their hinges,\nthe music grew faint, and the murmur died away.\n\nOn the second afternoon the Prince, in his impatience, came early\nto the shadowy garden. The Princess Liria was not to be found, so\nPorphyrio wandered away into the dark alleys by the pools. Suddenly\nhe found himself looking at his own reflection in a huge round mirror\nwhich two marble statues supported between them, one at each side.\nHappening to move a little, the Prince discovered that his reflection\ndid not move! He lifted an arm, the image remained motionless; he shook\nhis head, the mirror gave no sign. Puzzled, Porphyrio left the spot,\nand saw his reflection remaining behind the glass.\n\nPresently he heard the welcome footsteps of Liria. And as the lovers\nwalked and talked and discussed plans of escape, the Prince chanced\nto tell of the mirror he had found. Uttering a little gasp of alarm,\nthe Princess cried: \u201cNow we are lost indeed! Yon mirror is a mirror of\nmemory, and reveals to the Magician the faces of those who walk these\npaths. As soon as he sees your reflection therein,--and he gazes into\nthe glass every eve,--his demons will be sent in search of you. There\nis one hope and one only.\n\n\u201cGo you once more to the sea; follow the cliff for a league to the\nwest of the promontory, and you will find at its base the opening of\nan ocean cave. When you arrive there the tide will be at half-flood,\nand the entrance will still be visible above the waves. Fight your way\nwithin and climb to the cavern\u2019s height. Little by little the rising\ntide will seal the portal and hide you from the search. Make haste,\ndear Porphyrio, for there is not an instant to lose! Oh, that I had\nwarned you!\u201d\n\n[Illustration: _The image in the mirror stood still_]\n\nRagingly angry with himself for being a meddlesome fool, Porphyrio\nhurried down to the sea and sought out the cave. Twilight was at hand;\nthe tide was rising fast, already the entrance was almost closed by\nthe sea. Buffeted by the breakers and tossed against the cliff as he\nstrode, the Prince at length made his way into the cave and climbed to\na shelf of rock above the height of the tide. A few minutes later, the\nwater closed the entrance completely, thus imprisoning Porphyrio in a\nhollow darkness through which the ebb and flow of the outer sea swept\nwith chuckles and whispering laughter. All night long waited Porphyrio\nin the cold, watery dark.\n\nToward the end of the Prince\u2019s vigil, the earth suddenly shook, the\nwaters hushed, and through the silence and the dark Porphyrio heard the\nlong thunder of a mighty overthrow.\n\n\u201cWhat can that be?\u201d thought he.\n\nWhen the first red rays of the sun streamed along the rocky floor of\nthe cave, Porphyrio descended from his refuge, and walked out of the\ncave-mouth to the sea.\n\nNow, as Porphyrio walked along the shore, it came to pass that he\ndiscerned, deeply embedded in the bluish sands and lashed about with\nropes of matted weed, the splendid painted chest which had lain in his\ncabin on the ship. Its brazen lock, though tarnished by the waters, was\nstill highly clasped; but sea and stone had broken the wood loose from\nthe hasps, and the Prince had little difficulty in raising the lid.\nWith a rueful smile he gazed down into his robes and fine array lying\nmusty and sand-strewn within. There lay his prince\u2019s circlet of gold,\nhere his jeweled sword of state, here the rich gifts he had meant for\nthe Princess Liria. And among these, tucked away in the very corner of\nthe chest, Porphyrio found the sunbeam he had purchased at the Fair of\nthe Golden Bear.\n\n\u201cWere Liria armed with this,\u201d cried he, \u201cthe Magician of the Night\ncould not prevail against her!\u201d At the thought, a new strength\nleaped in his weary heart, and he hurried along the cliff toward the\npromontory. The storm had now cleared away, the ocean thundered and\nbroke into silvery white foam at the foot of the blue ramparts, and the\nIsle of the Night raised itself defiantly against a bright and royal\nsun.\n\nThe Magician, however, had not been idle. The mirror had told its\nstory; a search had been made; a legion of creatures had sought\nPorphyrio in every corner of the isle. Compelled by the approach of\ndawn to abandon this pursuit, the Magician resolved to render the\nisland unapproachable from the sea. With a spell of tremendous power\nhe caused the promontory to break from the other cliff and fall in\nscattered and monstrous ruin to the beach below. It was the thunder of\nthis overthrow which had shaken the earth and sounded through the cave.\n\nAs a last precaution, the Magician forbade Liria to leave the Palace of\nthe Night, and locked and sealed the doors and windows, every one.\n\nPresently the Prince, hastening along the beach, came in sight of the\nruined headland, and a great fear laid its icy hand on his heart as\nhe beheld the triumph of his enemy. How was he to reach the headland\nheight? The cliff-wall now circled the entire island without a break.\nLeague after league he trudged, along the shore, through the tide,\nsearching, searching for some way to scale the overhanging walls.\nHigher and higher climbed the sun. The shadows fell to the east, the\nafternoon waned, and still Porphyrio had found no path to the top.\nDesperate at last, he attempted to scale the steep face of the blue\nprecipice. From ledge to ledge, climbing with torn fingers and aching\narms, struggled the Prince, and presently, his further advance barred,\nfell backward, faint and overcome, on a shelf of rock high above the\nsea.\n\nWhen his strength returned, he found himself close by an eyrie of sea\nbirds brooding on their nests in shelves and rifts of the rock. With\na great clamor of piping and crying the creatures rose startled from\ntheir nests, so filling the air with wings that Porphyrio closed\nhis eyes. Suddenly the master of the eyrie, uttering a joyous call,\nswept down close to the Prince, and with an upward surge of his heart\nPorphyrio recognized the winged king whose freedom he had purchased at\nthe Fair of the Golden Bear! And now the sea birds gathered about the\nPrince, some gathering folds of his garments into their talons, others\nlifting him on broad wings, till presently he was borne from the narrow\nledge and the sound of the sea into the splendor and silence of the sky.\n\nThe end of day was at hand. Unveiled of any wisp of cloud, the fiery\nsun lay just above the western waters, its lower rim almost resting on\nthe waves. Once again approached the hour of the Magician of the Night.\n\nThe cloud of sea birds flew inland over the blue isle, and settled to\nearth at the very doors of the Palace of the Night. And opening his\narms to them, Porphyrio cried aloud his thanks as they wheeled and\nfled.\n\nThe Prince walked boldly to the great door, and blew a loud blast on\nthe warder\u2019s horn. There came no answer to his call. The Palace of the\nNight remained silent and dark. The sun\u2019s rim dipped; a little breeze\nmade its way from the sea through the mysterious gardens; the flowers\nof the night stirred like sleepers in a dream.\n\n\u201cO jewel of the sun,\u201d cried Porphyrio, \u201cGive me now your aid!\u201d And with\nthese words he touched the sunbeam to the lock. A crack resounded, then\na shattering crash, and the doors swung open wide. Hastening on twixt\nother and other doors and through heavy tapestries, Porphyrio at length\nfound himself at the thresh-hold of the great hall of the Palace of the\nNight. Rich hangings of dark blue velvet, strewn with stars of silver\nand gold, hung from the giant walls; a thousand lamps of pale moon-fire\nswayed on silver chains from the unseen height o\u2019erhead; there were\nhuge columns, and dark aisles. To one side of the hall, by a silver\nthrone raised upon a dais, stood the Magician of the Night, his arms\nfolded on his breast. Proud and pale by his side, near a second throne,\nstood the Princess Liria. About them were gathered the people of the\nNight.\n\nAs the doors parted, all turned to gaze at Porphyrio.\n\nFixing his dark eyes upon the Prince, the Magician spake a terrible\nincantation; but his words shattered themselves against the sunbeam as\na threatening wave breaks to drift and foam against a crag.\n\n\u201cSeize him!\u201d commanded the Magician.\n\nAt these words a host of dark beings surged about Porphyrio, encircling\nhim, yet afraid to attack. Porphyrio took Liria by the hand, and led\nher toward the door. But even as he did so, the Magician caused awesome\nsilvery fires to bar the outward way.\n\nAt the horizon\u2019s edge, the waters were leaping up about the sun.\n\nBaffled by the flame, Porphyrio, still guarding Liria, fought his way\ntoward a great stair at the very end of the hall. In the wall there,\nbarred with silver and shuttered with stone, a giant circular window\nfaced the west. And now there rose a tumult through the hall, and\nsounds of magic and thunder. Nothing daunted, Porphyrio touched the\nsunbeam to the window-bar, and threw the double shutters open wide. The\nsun was yet above the wave, sky and water were aflame, and the great\ntide of sunlight swept into the Palace of the Night like the music of\nmany trumpets.\n\nFrom all within the Palace a great wailing cry arose that presently\ndied away. When Porphyrio and Liria turned to gaze, the Magician and\nhis people had vanished, conquered and forever powerless. And the\nvelvet hangings were but cobwebs clinging to the walls, and the lamps\nof moon-fire but empty shells.\n\nThen Porphyrio and Liria walked hand in hand to the darkening sea, and\nbeheld there a brave merchant-ship which the sea bird was guiding to\nthe isle. You may be sure it did not take the jolly mariners long to\nrescue the lovers from the headland! And thus the Prince and Princess\nfared to Liria\u2019s realm, where there their marriage was celebrated with\nthe greatest ceremony.\n\nIn time Porphyrio became a king and Liria a queen, and thus they lived\nhappily ever after.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ENCHANTED BABY\n\n\nOnce upon a time the King of a great country had a quarrel with a\ngoblin. Now it chanced that the King had the best of the dispute, and\nthis so angered the goblin that he departed from the realm and cast\nabout for an opportunity to do a mischief to his foe.\n\nNow, as the goblin bided his time, it came to pass that the King and\nthe Queen, who had long been childless, became the proud parents of a\nbouncing baby boy. From rosy summer morn to the murmuring quiet of a\nsummer night, the whole realm gave itself over to rejoicing. Bells rang\nfrom the towers in cities and steeples in the fields, cannon boomed\nfrom castle towers, and small cakes, each one iced with the Prince\u2019s\nmonogram in red and white sugar, were distributed by royal command\namong the children of the realm.\n\nNow it was the custom of the country that the heir to the throne be\nshown to the assembled nobility of the realm on the first day of his\nseventh week in this changing world of ours, and presently this day\nstood at hand upon the calendar.\n\nOn the afternoon of the ceremony, the scene within the great hall of\nthe palace was magnificence itself! Assembled by thousands and ten\nthousands, the magnificoes of the land, all in ceremonial attire, moved\nor tried to move about; but as the huge hall was crowded to its bulging\ndoors, this was difficult, and there were, I regret to say, the usual\nfaintings from lack of air, cries of protest, bad-tempered pushing,\ncaps knocked awry, crumpled ruffs, and lost jewels.\n\nSuddenly the great bell of the palace set up a ponderous and solemn\nbooming--the ceremony was about to begin! Mercilessly crowding back\nthe already densely jammed magnificoes on the toes of still other\nmagnificoes, a number of gentleman ushers contrived to open an aisle\nthe length of the hall, and when this feat had been accomplished, the\ntwo tallest sergeants in the royal army opened the double portals\nleading forth from the royal drawing-room. And now, heralded by a great\nringing peal of golden trumpets, and accompanied by a crash of exultant\nthunder on the palace organ, a noble procession slowly advanced through\nthe gateway into the hall. The generalissimo of the royal armies came\nfirst, marching solemnly and quite alone, for he was marshal of the\noccasion; then came trumpeters in green and yellow; then a chosen\ndetail of giant grenadiers dressed in rose-red and silver-grey; then\npages scattering flowers from golden baskets; then a little space;\nand then, advancing with the dignity of a cloud; appeared the Lord\nChancellor, wheeling in the baby.\n\nOf finest yellow gold were the wheels and push-bar of the perambulator,\nwhilst the carriage part had been hollowed from a single stupendous\nopal! Amid a deafening din of huzzas and shouts and bell clangs, the\nprocession solemnly advanced to a dais raised at the head of the hall.\n\nSuddenly an invisible shape fluttered in through a window, muttered\nsomething beside the baby\u2019s cradle, uttered a mocking goblin laugh, and\nfled away unperceived and unsuspected.\n\nAfter wheeling the baby to the centre of the dais, the Lord Chancellor\ngave a signal to the trumpeters to break into the national anthem, and\nbent over the cradle to take the infant and show him to the throng.\nTo his horror, the cradle was _empty_! The little Prince\u2019s pillow was\nthere, the coverlet edged with turquoise, and the rattle filled with\nseed pearls--but no baby.\n\n\u201cThe baby! The baby! Where\u2019s the baby?\u201d gulped the Lord Chancellor,\nscarce able to speak. An awkward pause followed: excited whispers,\nconjectures, rumors buzzed through the audience. Presently, as the\ntruth began to spread, a growing uproar rocked the hall. Soon\neverybody was busily looking here and there--lifting up edges of\ncarpets, poking about behind curtains, staring at the ceiling, and\nexamining corners.\n\nAll at once a baby\u2019s cry was heard, faint to be sure, but quite\nunmistakable.\n\n\u201cSearch, search, my friends!\u201d cried the King. \u201cThe Grand Cross of the\nOrder of the Bluebird to whosoever discovers my child!\u201d\n\nThe baby\u2019s cry was heard again! Where could he be?\n\nSuddenly a clever young lady-in-waiting, who had been searching the\nopal carriage, uttered a piercing shriek. While groping about in\nthe perambulator, she had felt the baby, but had been unable to see\nhim. Like a sudden crumbling of walls, the dreadful truth broke upon\neveryone present.\n\n_The baby had become invisible!_\n\nInvisible he was, and invisible he remained. You may well believe that\nhis upbringing was indeed a difficult task! To make matters worse,\nit was soon discovered that not only was the Prince himself totally\ninvisible, but also that such clothes as touched him became invisible,\ntoo. One could _feel_ the little Prince, one could _hear_ him--and that\nwas all. Thus, if he crept away on the nursery floor, one had either to\ngrope for him through the clear air, carefully feeling here and feeling\nthere, or wait until he cried. No wonder the poor Queen was forever\nsearching the land for new nurses-in-waiting, and forever sending home\nnurses whose nerves had proved unequal to the strain! One could never\ntell what might be happening.\n\nOn one occasion, for instance, the child actually managed to escape\nfrom his nursery to the sweeping lawns of the royal palace, and the\nentire national army, working in scout formation, had to spend the\nwhole afternoon creeping about on its hands and knees before the prince\nwas found asleep in the shelter of a plum tree.\n\nNow, when every attempt to undo the spell had failed, it came to\npass that the King went to visit the Wise Man of Pansophia, a learned\nsage who sat in a wing chair beneath a green striped umbrella at the\ncrossroads of the world, giving counsel to all comers. This sage was\nclad in the stately folds of a full black gown, a round black velvet\ncap rested on the crown of his snow-white head, a broad white beard lay\nspread upon his breast, and on his nose were huge round spectacles,\nover whose edge he looked with an air of solemn authority.\n\nBeginning at the umbrella, an army of questioners, patiently waiting\nin single file, stretched dozens of miles across the rolling land and\ndisappeared, still unbroken, over the crest of a distant hill. These\npatient folk, it is a pleasure to relate, courteously gave way to the\nunhappy King.\n\nWhen he had heard the King\u2019s story, the Wise Man shook his venerable\nhead, and replied in a voice which sounded like the booming of waves on\na resounding shore:--\n\n\u201cThe spell which binds your son is a mighty one, and can only be\nremoved by touching him with the spell-dispeller, the all-powerful\ntalisman given your ancestor, King Decimo, by his fairy bride.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas,\u201d replied the King, \u201cthe spell-dispeller was stolen from the\nroyal treasury twenty years ago. Could you not tell us who stole it, or\nwhere it may be found?\u201d\n\n\u201cWas it not the only spell-dispeller in the whole wide world?\u201d\nquestioned the Wise Man.\n\n\u201cIt was,\u201d replied the King with a sad, assenting nod.\n\n\u201cThen it was stolen from you by the Master Thief of the Adamant\nMountains,\u201d boomed the Wise Man.\n\n\u201cAnd perhaps _you_ can tell us where _he_ can be found,\u201d said the King.\nThe Wise Man shook his head.\n\n\u201cAsk me where lies the raindrop which fell yesterday in the river,\u201d\nreplied the Wise Man, \u201cbut ask me not where dwells the Master Thief.\nI do not know. No one knows. But as for breaking the spell, it is the\nspell-dispeller or nothing. Would that I could help you more!\u201d\n\nAnd, bidding the King a ceremonious farewell, the sage turned his\nattention to the questioner at the head of the long line, a stout\npeasant-fellow whose cottage chimney failed to draw.\n\nBut now you must hear of the Master Thief of the Adamant Mountains.\n\nThis mysterious personage, of whom all had heard, but whom none had\nseen, dwelt in a secret house in a lost valley of the mountains, a\nhouse so artfully shaped and so cunningly concealed with vines and\nbranches, that the very birds of the air were deceived by it and would\noften come to roost on the chimney, mistaking it for a chestnut tree!\nAs for the Master Thief himself, a kind of living bean-pole was he, for\nhe was taller than the tallest, leaner than the leanest, and provided\nwith a pair of long, tireless legs which could outrun and outlast the\nswiftest coursers in the land.\n\nDuring the night, he moved through the world in a strange garment of\npitchy blue-black, fitted as close to him as the skin to an eel; during\nthe day, he wore a marvelous vesture on which were painted leaves,\nspots of sun, dabs of blue shade, and stripes of earthy brown.\n\nNow this Master Thief was no ordinary robber, for he stole not for\nstealing\u2019s sake, but only to gather new rarities for a wonderful museum\nhe housed in the caverns under his dwelling. Surely there was never\nsuch a marvelous museum as the museum of the Master Thief!\n\nDeep in the solemn echoing caves, ticketed and labeled each one,\nand arranged in order, shelf on shelf, was to be found the _finest\nspecimen_ of everything in the world which men had made or loved. The\nmost comfortable chair in the world was there, the pointedest pin,\nthe warmest blanket, the loudest drum, the stickiest glue, the most\ninteresting book, the funniest joke, the largest diamond, the most\nlifelike stuffed cat, the handsomest lamp-shade, and a thousand things\nmore. To relabel his collection, to move it about, to do things to it\nand with it was the supreme delight of the Master Thief. Seated in the\nmost comfortable chair in the world, finger tips together, he spent\nhours gloating on his treasures, and wondering if he lacked aught\nbeneath the sun. Presently he chanced to hear of the invisible baby\u2019s\nopal perambulator, and instantly determined to add this new wonder to\nhis gallery.\n\nGoing first to his secret den, he spun for himself a globe of delicate\nglass, spoke five words into it, and sealed them snug within. Next, he\nattired himself in his parti-colored suit, put the globe in his pocket,\nand fled on his long legs over hill and over dale to the royal city.\n\nArriving late in the afternoon, he made his way without difficulty\ninto the gardens of the palace. The day was fair as only a day on the\nthreshold of summer may be, and the opal perambulator stood unattended\nin the shade of a clump of ancient trees. Magnificently clad, a number\nof royal nurses were standing about the silver fence which enclosed\nthe prince\u2019s romping-yard. Far off, in the sunny distance, sounded the\ndrums and fifes of the palace soldiery.\n\nAnd now, creeping nearer unobserved, the Master Thief took the crystal\nglobe from his pocket and tossed it near the group. Striking the\nground, the globe burst with the faintest crystal tinkle, and the words\nthat the cunning Master Thief had sealed within escaped into the air.\nAnd these words were:--\n\n_Oh, look at the balloon!_\n\nImmediately all the nurses looked to the sky to see the imaginary\nballoon, and while they were looking here and looking there, the Master\nThief sprang to the opal perambulator, released the brake on the golden\nwheels, and, pushing the carriage ahead of him, ran like mad down the\nflower-bordered alleyways and out the garden gates to the highroad.\n\n[Illustration: _Over hill, over dale, in a long straight line, fled the\nMaster Thief with the golden perambulator_]\n\nAcross the landscape in a long straight line fled the Master Thief on\nhis wonderful legs, pushing the perambulator all the while. Now they\nsaw him bouncing it across furrowed fields, now they saw it speed like\na jeweled boat through a sea of waving green grain, now they beheld it\nscattering the silly sheep in the upland wilds.\n\nPresently the bells of the city set up the maddest ringing; foot\nsoldiers were turned out on the roads, and squadrons of cavalry were\nsent galloping after; but all in vain--the jeweled carriage, blazing\nin the western glow, sped like a meteor over the land. The last they\nsaw of it was a moving streak of light along the steep slope of a\nmountain, a light which gleamed for a moment on the crest like a large,\nmisplaced, and iridescent star, and then swiftly sank from view.\n\nWhen the Master Thief reached his secret haven in the valley, he\nshouted aloud for triumph, and swiftly wheeled the perambulator down\nto the museum. _The most magnificent perambulator in the world!_ Once\nmore drawing forth the most comfortable chair, the Master Thief sank\ninto it and contemplated his newest prize.\n\nSuddenly, a strange sound, half cry, half gurgle caused him to sit bolt\nupright. Had someone discovered his secret treasury? What could it\nmean? And now there came a second cry which ended in a long protesting\nwail.\n\nThe Master Thief had stolen the invisible baby along with the carriage!\n\nNow the notion of having to take care of a baby, of any baby, was\na matter which might well alarm the Master Thief; but as for an\n_invisible_ baby, that was indeed a trial! All at once, however, the\nMaster Thief slapped his knee and chuckled for joy--he had thought of\nthe spell-dispeller! Holding aloft the brightest lantern in the world,\nthe robber made his way to the little side-cavern in which he had\nplaced the talisman.\n\nHis heart jumped. The spell-dispeller was gone!\n\nBaffled and perplexed, the Master Thief began a nervous search of the\nlittle cavern; but never a sign of the spell-dispeller could he find.\nVowing not to restore the Prince till he had found the talisman and\ntested its power, the Master Thief at length abandoned the search and\ncarried the Prince through the caverns to his dwelling.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd now days passed, and months passed, and even years, without\nbringing to light the spell-dispeller. From an invisible infant the\nPrince grew to be an invisible boy, whose merry voice and friendly\npresence played about the house of the Master Thief like a capful of\nsummer wind on a mountain lake.\n\nHeigho, but after all it wasn\u2019t so bad to be invisible! One could see\nthings and find things hidden away from all other mortals; one could\nclimb to the side of a bird\u2019s nest, sit still, and watch the mother\nbird feed her young; one could dive, unseen, into the clear, cold pools\nof the mountain streams and pinch the lurking trout by their rippling\ntails; one could follow the squirrel to his secret granary!\n\nNow, during the Prince\u2019s fifteenth year, it came to pass that the\nMaster Thief suddenly became ashamed of his wicked ways, so ashamed\nindeed that he resolved not only to forgo further _collecting_ but also\nto return every single thing he had stolen! The invisible Prince, I am\nglad to tell you, was of the greatest possible service to the Master\nThief in this honest task. And now, all over the kingdoms of the world,\npeople began to find their stolen possessions waiting for them when\nthey came down to breakfast in the morning: the stuffed cat became once\nmore the pride of the Blue Tower, the most interesting book went back\nto its place on the shelves of the royal library, the golden scroll of\nthe funniest joke appeared as if by magic on the wall of the king\u2019s own\nroom. Alas for human waywardness, there were actually people who had\ngrown so accustomed to the loss of their belongings that they reviled\nthe Master Thief for their return. Dreadful to relate,--the style\nhaving changed,--the handsomest lamp-shade was actually tossed in a\nwell!\n\nAt the end of the fifth year, the opal perambulator and the invisible\nPrince were the only two stolen things left to return. The invisible\nyouth was twenty years old. With a sorrowful heart, for the youth was\nas dear to him as a son, the repentant Master Thief began preparations\nto restore prince and perambulator to the unhappy parents.\n\nNow it came to pass that, on the morning of departure, the Master Thief\ndescended for the last time to the forlorn and dusty corridors of his\ngreat museum and walked about the galleries, leaving footprints in\nthe dust and musing on the glories that had been. Here had stood the\nshiniest rubber-plant, here the most beautiful hat-rack, here the only\neraser which had never rubbed a hole in the paper. A tear gathered in\nhis eye. He had loved them; he had stolen them; he had restored them;\nhe was free!\n\nAll at once his glance, roving empty shelves, fell on a tiny box\nwedged in a sombre corner. With a loud shout of joy, the Master Thief\nrecognized the spell-dispeller! It had fallen behind a shelf and had\nlain there concealed for almost twenty years! Thrusting it into his\npocket\u2019s depth, the Master Thief bounded up the secret stairs to the\njoy of the sun.\n\nAfter a pleasant rambling journey in a huge coach, the Master Thief\nand the invisible Prince reached the city at the twilight hour, and\ntook lodgings at a quiet, comfortable inn. The invisible Prince, I must\nremind you, was still invisible.\n\nNow it came to pass that when supper had been served and eaten, the\nMaster Thief and the invisible Prince went for a stroll through the\nroyal city. Much to the surprise of the travelers, they found the city\nhung with streamers and bunting of the gayest kind. Stranger still, in\nspite of this display, the citizens of the royal city appeared to be\nparticularly out of spirits.\n\n\u201cGood host,\u201d said the Master Thief to the landlord of the inn, \u201cpray\nwhat means this air of jubilee? Do you make merry for some kingly\nfestival?\u201d\n\n\u201cA festival, yes,\u201d replied the host, looking about to see if anyone\nwere listening, \u201cfestival it is, but only in name. Have you not heard\nthe news? Let us walk a little to one side and I will tell you the\nstory.\n\n\u201cThree years ago our gracious sovereign, the good King Valdoro the\nFourth--weary of the cares of state and still stricken to the heart\nby the loss of his son, the invisible Prince of whom you may have\nheard--gave over the guidance of the kingdom to the Marquis Malicorn.\nLast week this official made himself master of the royal power,\nimprisoned our dear King and Queen in a dark tower, and proclaimed\nhimself successor to the throne. The coronation is to be held to-morrow\nafternoon in the great hall of the royal palace. Alas for the people\nand the nation! Oh, if the invisible Prince would only return!\u201d\n\nTo this the Master Thief nodded his head, his busy brain plotting all\nthe while. All at once he smiled. He had devised a plan.\n\nAnd now it was once more the great hall of the castle, and once more\na sunny afternoon. Bells rang, but their cry was wingless and leaden,\nand there was a dull and joyless note in the cannon\u2019s roar. Crowded as\ndensely together as ever they were twenty years before, the magnificoes\nsullenly awaited the arrival of the usurper and his train.\n\nPresently the portals were once more swept apart, revealing Malicorn\nand his followers. Not a sound rose from the assembly.\n\nGrowling for rage beneath a huge pair of dragoon\u2019s whiskers, the wicked\nMarquis made his way to the dais and the coronation chair. The noise of\nbells and cannon ceased. An official in blue advanced with the royal\nrobe.\n\nJust as he was about to throw it over the waiting shoulders of the\nusurper, an invisible something snatched the robe from him and, lo, it\nmelted into the air!\n\nExceedingly angry, yet disturbed at heart, Malicorn hoped for better\nluck with the sceptre, but this, too, was snatched by an invisible\nhand. As for the royal crown, it vanished from its purple cushion in\nthe twinkling of an eye.\n\nSpeechless with rage, Malicorn now rose to his feet, and stood before\nthe throne, glaring about into the air. Cries of defiance, mingled with\nshouts of derision, rose from among the magnificoes. And now, even as\nthe turmoil was at its height, the Master Thief, who had been concealed\nbehind some curtains, strode boldly forth to the dais, thrust Malicorn\naside with a sweep of his long arms, and shouted to the audience:--\n\n\u201cMagnificoes of the Realm, you came to see your King. Your rightful\nKing is here. Would you behold him?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes!\u201d shouted the assembly in one voice. And now the Master Thief\ntouched the invisible Prince with the spell-dispeller.\n\nThe instant he did so a flash of deep golden light set everyone\nblinking, fairy music was heard, and suddenly the invisible Prince\nstood visible before the throne. He was tall, dark-haired, brown-eyed,\nand a bit slim, and the crown was on his head, the robe on his\nshoulders, and the sceptre in his hand.\n\nAnd now the bells and cannon began to boom in real earnest, and a\ngay breeze came sweeping in to toss the flags and banners that had\nhung so still. Overcome by emotion, the generalissimo seized the\nLord Chancellor by the waist and swung him into a jig, the soldiers\nall tossed their caps into the air and cheered like mad, whilst the\norganist became so excited that he began to play two tunes at once.\nEverybody was laughing and hallooing and hurrahing.\n\nAs for Malicorn and his crew, they were tumbling out the back door as\nfast as their legs could carry them, and nobody has seen them from\nthat day to this.\n\nPresently the old King and the Queen, released from the dark tower,\ncame hurrying in to greet their son.\n\n\u201cHe resembles you, my dear,\u201d whispered the King to the Queen.\n\nThe Master Thief was forgiven everything.\n\nSinging and rejoicing, the people of the city poured from the houses\ninto the sunny streets.\n\nClang, clang! Boom! Clang, clang! Boom, boom! Boom! Boom!\n\nAnd they all lived happily ever after.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TWO MILLERS\n\n\nOnce upon a time, in a pleasant country of meadows sweeping seaward\nfrom wooded inland heights, there were two millers and two mills. If\nyou came to the country in a ship, you saw the windmill first, for it\nwas built upon a tongue of land rising above the wide salt meadows and\nthe washing midnight-tides; but if you came to the country by the land,\nit was the water mill you saw, for it stood beside the highway in the\nvalley of a brooklet rushing to the sea.\n\nNow the wind-miller, who was a great tall man with blue eyes and fair\nhair, had a daughter named Cecily, whilst the water-miller, who was a\nlittle nimble man with a red face and crisp, black curls, had a son\nnamed Valentine. And because both the millers were merry men, and there\nwas a plenty of grain for both the mills to grind, these millers were\nexcellent cronies, and the maiden Cecily had been betrothed to the\nyoung man Valentine.\n\nEvery eve, when the day\u2019s task at the water mill had been brought to an\nend, the gates lowered, and the brooklet turned free to rush unhindered\ndown the glen, Valentine would walk from his wooded hills to the\nheadland by the sea, and call at the mill for Cecily. The nights were\noften still, and the golden shield of the moon, rising over the hilly\nwoods, gleamed upon the curling foam of the little long waves, and\nfilled their glassy hollows with her light.\n\nNow it befell that as Valentine and Cecily walked by the shore on such\na night, they heard from the hollow of the hills a faint and far-off\nrumble like the echoing of thunder. Such mysterious sounds were forever\nrising in the hills, and because no one could tell whence they came, a\nlegend had grown up that somewhere in the forest depths there dwelt a\nhidden someone, known as the Husbandman of the Hills.\n\n\u201cListen, Valentine,\u201d said Cecily, \u201cthe Husbandman of the Hills is\nclosing the door of his barn. Think you that some day a mortal may find\nhim in his hiding-place in the hills?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut suppose it were naught but an idle tale?\u201d said the merry youth,\nwith a smile.\n\n\u201cOh no, Valentine,\u201d said the maiden seriously. \u201cAll my life long have\nI dwelt here on the shore, and heard the mysterious echoes from the\nhills. Sometimes the sound is of the lowing of cattle, sometimes of\nthe threshing of grain, sometimes \u2019tis the creaking of a hay wain in a\nfield. And always the old and wise tell of the Husbandman of the Hills.\nSome day a mortal will find the hidden Husbandman--do you but wait and\nsee.\u201d\n\nIt was the early summer now, and all went merry as a marriage bell.\nThe heavy water-wheel turned with a rolling thunder and a sound of\nendless splashing; and the four arms of the windmill spun with a windy\nthrum and a clock-like clack from the rising of the wind to the calm of\nsundown and the eve.\n\nAnd now, alas, events were at hand which were to shatter the plans of\nthe two millers and wreck the hopes of Cecily and Valentine!\n\nAt the close of the harvest-tide, the Princess Celestia, only daughter\nof the King and Queen of the country, was going to be married. Now it\nchanced that the Queen, her mother, was famous in the land as a maker\nof cake, and presently this good lady promised her daughter a wedding\ncake so splendid and delicious that painters would beg to be allowed\nto paint its portrait, and poets to praise it in glorious and immortal\nsong.\n\nYes, the Queen would make the cake with her own white hands, the batter\nshould be mixed in a golden bowl with a golden spoon, the two best hens\nin the kingdom should be summoned to lay the eggs, the oven should have\na door of diamonds, and as for the flour, that should come from the\nfinest fields and the best mill in all the land.\n\n\u201cI know what I\u2019ll do; I\u2019ll offer a rich reward for the best flour,\u201d\nsaid the good Queen. And calling the royal herald to her presence, she\nbade him summon all good millers to strive for the prize, and to bring\nof their new flour to the palace at the close of the harvest yield.\n\nNow it chanced that the Queen\u2019s herald, all dressed in blue-and-white\nand sounding a silver horn, came cantering first to the water-miller\u2019s\ndoor.\n\n\u201cI should like to win that treasure,\u201d said the water-miller to himself,\nmusing in the doorway.\n\n\u201cAfter all, my flour _is_ better than the wind-miller\u2019s meal. That\ntreasure should be mine, must be mine. Yes, mine, mine, mine!\u201d\n\nNow it was the custom of the country for millers to visit the farms\nin midsummer, view the growing, green grain, and bargain with\nthe husbandmen for the yield of the tossing fields. Suddenly the\nwater-miller, coveting the treasure, determined to purchase all the\nstanding grain, so that the wind-miller should not have any good grain\nto grind! And this he did, forgetting the while that the deed was\nsharp and unfriendly.\n\nA day or two passed, and presently the wind-miller climbed to the\nsaddle of his fat white steed, and rode away to buy his customary\ngrain. Alas, there was none to be had. Every turn of the road disclosed\nnew fields of grain, but every single ear was pledged to the miller by\nthe brook!\n\nAt first--I must tell you--the wind-miller was more hurt than angry at\nhis old crony\u2019s trickery; but the more he thought of it the angrier he\ngrew. Storming about the windmill in a rage, he gave a great roar for\nCecily, and when the frightened maiden appeared before him, he bade her\ndismiss all thoughts of Valentine from her heart, and consider herself\nfortunate to be rid of the son of such a father.\n\nThe water-miller, however, was not to be outdone. The moment he heard\nof the wind-miller\u2019s wrath, he too fell into a rage, and presently\nforbade Valentine, on pain of dismissal, so much as to look at the\nmaiden Cecily.\n\nAnd now the youth and the maiden were very sad indeed, for in spite of\nthe strife between their fathers, they continued to love each other\nvery much. Presently Valentine could endure it all no more, and stole\naway one night to have a word with Cecily.\n\nThe mill brook was babbling in the dark when Valentine returned to the\nmill, and a single light was burning in a window by the door. Opening\nthe portal gently, the youth presently discovered his father seated on\nthe stair clad in a flowered nightcap and a long white dressing-gown.\n\n\u201cValentine,\u201d said the water-miller in a voice deep as the bottom of a\nwell, \u201cwhere have you been?\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve been to the windmill to see Cecily,\u201d said Valentine truthfully\nand bravely.\n\n\u201cSirrah!\u201d cried the water-miller, shaking with such temper that his\nflowered nightcap trembled on his head. \u201cDid I not forbid you to go to\nthe windmill, on pain of being turned away from this my house? Go!\u201d And\nthe angry water-miller pointed a level finger out into the night.\n\n\u201cBut, father,\u201d protested Valentine.\n\n\u201cBut me no buts,\u201d thundered the miller. \u201cGo, sirrah, for this house is\nyours no more.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut whither, father?\u201d asked bewildered Valentine.\n\n\u201cThat, sirrah, is your affair,\u201d replied the angry miller. \u201cGo anywhere\nyou please; go find the Husbandman of the Hills!\u201d\n\nAnd with this last bit of advice, the wrathful water-miller pushed his\nson out of the mill and drew the long, grinding bolt across the door. A\nmoment later the single light went out, and the mill was dark.\n\nAnd now Valentine, in search of shelter for the night, sought out a\nfarm in the gloom of the wooded hills. Leaving the broad white road, he\nfollowed first a country lane, then a pathway winding through a great\nwoodsy mire, and then another lane, softly carpeted with moss and last\nyear\u2019s fallen leaves.\n\nA star fell from the twinkling heavens; a hunting owl hooted in a tree.\nEver so far away a silver bell struck the midnight hour.\n\nSuddenly Valentine knew that he had followed a strange path, and was\nlost in the heart of the hills. It was a very strange path indeed, for\nthe trees and the brambles along it seemed to have grown together in\nthe dark, and pressed forward to form a thick imprisoning wall.\n\nUneasy at heart, the youth now turned to retrace his steps, only to see\nthat the same mysterious trees had risen up behind!\n\nHours passed. Stars that were high in the heavens vanished over\ntreetops in the east, a silvery dawn began to pale, and there were\nchirps and stirs and peeps and feathery noises in the wood. At the\nrising of the sun, Valentine arrived at the farm of the Husbandman of\nthe Hills.\n\nNow the Husbandman of the Hills--I must tell you--was the farmer of\nthe fairies. It was from this farm in the hills that the goblins of the\nmountain-tops, the elves of the silver river, and the peoples of the\nfairy kingdoms of the world had their apples and clotted cream, their\ncherries and plums, and their butter-pats stamped with a crown.\n\nThe fairy farm lay in a green vale, magically walled about with briery\ntrees. Only at the midnight minute could the wall be passed, and\nValentine had chanced to cross it at the sixth stroke of the bell.\n\nAnd now Valentine found himself made welcome by the Husbandman and his\nlady, the Goodwife of the Hills. The Husbandman was old; his face was\nruddy and his hair silvery white, and in a smock of blue with a white\ncollar was he clad. His spouse was elderly too, and wore a gown of\ngreen with short old-fashioned sleeves, a white housekeeper\u2019s-apron,\nand a cap with ribbons and frills.\n\nI wish I had time to tell you of how the long summer passed at the\nfarm of the fairies--of the brewing, the baking, and the churning; and\nof how the green elves came to cut the grain with silver scythes no\nlonger than your arm; of how a very young giant, who had a pleasant\nsmile and was as tall as a tree, came to pitch the hay into the barn;\nof how the orchard goblins came to gather the wonderful apples into\nbaskets of silver and gold; and of the enchanted bear who wore yellow\nspectacles and turned the butter churn.\n\nPresently the leaves, though green, began to rustle dryly on the trees,\nand Valentine began to long for his own again.\n\n\u201cYou have been a faithful laborer,\u201d said the old Husbandman of the\nHills. \u201cA reward is yours. What shall it be?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I seek no reward,\u201d said Valentine, \u201cfor you gave me shelter, when\nshelter I had none.\u201d\n\n\u201cA brave answer,\u201d said the old Husbandman with a smile. \u201cBut you have\nearned your wage, good friend. I\u2019ll give you _a wish_. Be in no haste\nto use it. And guard it well!\u201d\n\nAnd now Valentine turned from the vale, passed the magic bound at\nmidnight, and found himself once more in an old, familiar pathway of\nthe wood.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe autumn had been a rainless one, and the water-miller was having\nforty fits.\n\nThe mill brook was running dry!\n\nAlready there was scarce water enough to stir the heavy wheel. Another\nweek without rain, and the bed of the brook would be naught but a\nlength of puddles and pools. And the fine golden grain he had purchased\nwas being threshed and winnowed, and would soon be arriving at the mill!\n\nIn and out of the door of the mill, a hundred times a day went the\nwater-miller, now to stare at the vanishing brook, now to sweep the sky\nin hope of rain. But the dry leaves only rustled more dryly, and the\nsun was bright.\n\nWorse yet, the Princess Celestia\u2019s wedding day was fast approaching,\nand the Queen would soon be calling for her flour. And sure enough, the\nQueen\u2019s herald presently rode again through the land, summoning all\ngood millers to bring of their new flour to the palace before sundown\non the seventh day.\n\nThe following week was indeed an anxious one for the miller by the\nbrook. Alas for his fortunes--not a single drop of rain fell either in\nthe meadows or the hills, and the brook ran dry. You might as well have\ntried to turn the wheel with a pitcher of water as to turn it with the\ntrickle which remained.\n\nOn the night of the sixth day, the water-miller, humbled in heart, rode\nover to the windmill to make his peace and ask a boon. He would ask the\nwind-miller to grind the wonderful golden grain, and offer him half of\nthe grain as a reward.\n\nNow the wind-miller had not forgotten the water-miller\u2019s trickery; so\nhe received his old crony with anything but a friendly air.\n\n\u201cGrind grain for you, sir?\u201d said the wind-miller, standing with arms\nakimbo and feet apart, \u201cyes, sir; but only on one condition, sir, and\nthat is, sir, that you let me choose my half of the grain, sir.\n\n\u201cAnd hearken, sir, one thing more, sir. You must bring the grain to the\nwindmill this very night, sir.\u201d\n\nNow it came to pass that, as the water-miller, hanging his head, went\nout into the night, Cecily saw him, and ran to ask him for news of\nValentine. But the water-miller was himself troubled because of the\nabsence of his son, and could give no new tidings to the maid.\n\nGroaning many a regretful groan, the water-miller loaded his fine\ntwo-wheeled scarlet cart with sacks of golden grain, and carried it to\nthe windmill door. It was a warm night. The water-miller unloaded the\nsacks, mopped his brow with a red bandanna handkerchief, and sighed.\n\nWhat a fool he had been not to play fair! What a fool to send away his\nson!\n\nWhen the water-miller had driven away, the triumphant wind-miller took\na great iron lantern, and went down to see the grain. For a moment or\ntwo he stood motionless, chuckling at his unexpected victory. Presently\nhe called to Cecily to gather all the lights and candles she could\nfind, and place them round about.\n\nAnd now, toiling in a great blaze of candlelight, the wind-miller\nslowly and carefully sifted out for himself the better half of the\nwonderful grain. The remaining half--which was good enough, but full of\nhusks and dust--he set apart for his rival.\n\nThe dawn was breaking as he finished the task. Some of the candles\nwere burned out, and the lanterns were smoke-begrimed and dim. Wearily\nrubbing the grain-dust from his eyes, the wind-miller trudged up the\ncircular stair and tumbled into bed. He would grind the grain into\nflour as soon as he woke in the morn.\n\nAnd on that same still, autumn dawn young Valentine came out of the\nfairy wood.\n\nWhen the wind-miller woke, he woke with a start, for he had slept\nlate, and the sun was high. How warm and misty-moisty it was! Good\nheavens--there wasn\u2019t a breath of wind!\n\nA ship drifted becalmed upon the glassy sea; a blue haze of wavy summer\nheat lay upon the meadows, and over the wooded hills hung a motionless\nmass of bluish cloud with a rim of silvery white. There was not even\nair enough to stir a dead leaf hanging by a thread.\n\nIn and out of the door of the mill, like one distracted ran the\nmiller; he stood upon the balcony and stared about at the sky, the\ngreeny-leaden sea, and the helpless ship; he lifted a moistened finger\nto the air.\n\nOh, for a wind!\n\nAnd now a ship\u2019s bell in the mill struck the eight strokes of high\nnoon, and presently the water-miller came hurrying to the mill in his\nscarlet cart. A moment\u2019s glance at the two halves of golden grain told\nhim of the wind-miller\u2019s counterstroke, and he ran upstairs into the\nmill room full of wrath.\n\n[Illustration: _He lifted a moistened finger to the air. Good\nheavens--there wasn\u2019t a breath of wind!_]\n\n\u201cI brought you my grain to grind,\u201d he shouted at the wind-miller, \u201cand\nyou have not done so. I shall take it all back again, do you hear?\u201d\n\n\u201cWait; you made a bargain with me,\u201d answered the wind-miller.\n\n\u201cI tell you I am done with the bargain,\u201d cried out the water-miller in\na passion.\n\n\u201cI tell you a bargain\u2019s a bargain,\u201d shouted the wind-miller. \u201cTouch yon\ngrain if you dare!\u201d\n\nAnd now, I am sure, the old friends and cronies would have come to\nblows, had not Valentine and Cecily suddenly hurried and rushed between\nthem.\n\n\u201cGood sirs,\u201d said honest Valentine, \u201cpray you stand apart and do each\nother no wrong. The brook is dry; the wind is gone; of what use then is\nthis disputed grain? Were it not best, mayhap, to begin anew?\u201d\n\n\u201cDear father,\u201d said pretty Cecily, \u201cWill you give your share of the\ngrain to me?\u201d\n\n\u201cWith all my heart,\u201d said the wind-miller, who hated brawling.\n\n\u201cAnd will you give your share to me, father?\u201d asked Valentine.\n\n\u201cYes, and gladly,\u201d said the water-miller.\n\n\u201cHeart\u2019s thanks to you both, good sirs,\u201d said the youth with a bow and\nthe maid with a courtesy. \u201cAnd now,\u201d continued Valentine, \u201cyou shall\nall behold a great wonder.\n\n\u201cO Husbandman of the Hills, you gave me a wish for a wage. Grant it to\nme now! I wish for a fine windmill-wind to blow till sundown of this\nday.\u201d\n\nOut of the hills came the wind. It swept up an inland dust, it sent\nthe leaves on the higher crests a-flying, it rushed over the hot\nsea-scented meadows, it surged about the mill--and the great arms\ngathered it, creaked, groaned, and began a-spinning.\n\nValentine poured a shower of grain down an oaken slide into the\ngrinding thunder of the heavy stones. The grain fell between the upper\nand the nether wheel, and presently the finest of new flour was pouring\ndown below. And this new flour the three millers shook and sifted and\ncleansed until it was worthy of the Queen\u2019s own hands, the golden\nbatter-bowl, and the Princess Celestia\u2019s cake. So wonderful indeed\nwas the flour, that it instantly gained the rich reward the Queen had\noffered as a prize, and won for Valentine the appointment of miller to\nthe King.\n\nTouched by the happiness of their children, I am glad to say, the two\nmillers agreed to forget their strife. And they shook hands, and became\ncronies again.\n\nOn the day following the wedding of the Princess Celestia, Valentine\nand Cecily were married. The little Princess sent them two thick slices\nof her cake. It was as white as snow, and frosted with sugar, and there\nwere candied plums, and cherries, and citron nibbles in each slice.\n\nAnd Valentine and Cecily rejoiced, and lived happily together all their\ndays.\n\n\n\n\nTHE ADAMANT DOOR\n\n\nOnce upon a time, on a fine spring morning, a country lad named Hugh\ntook his fish pole from a corner and went to try his luck in a brook\nbeside the road. Now it fortuned that as he stood upon the grassy bank,\ncasting about in the broad shallows of the stream, the boy heard the\nmighty sound of many men singing together, and presently he beheld a\nregiment of soldiers on the march. In uniforms of red-and-white they\nwere clad, and an officer in red-and-white and gold was riding at their\nhead.\n\nAnd now the regiment came to a halt, and broke ranks beside the brook.\nWith shouts and cries the young soldiers hurried to the water, opened\ntheir gay coats at the throat, and washed the dust from their sunburnt\nfaces; the sergeants gathered and gossiped by themselves; the horse of\nthe guiding officer sucked up great mouths of water, looked about, and\nblew the spray from his nostrils; and here and there a man helped a\ncomrade with his pack.\n\n\u201cHow splendid it must be to be a soldier!\u201d thought Hugh as he gazed\nupon the merry company. And, hurrying home to his mother as fast as his\nlegs could carry him, he begged so eagerly for permission to enlist,\nthat at length he won her consent and followed the marching men.\n\nAnd now the lad Hugh was himself a soldier of the realm with a\nred-and-white uniform like unto the others, a pack for his back, and a\nshiny leather hat with a shiny silver star. Soon he knew what it was to\nlie upon the ground and shiver in a blanket, and to watch the rolling\nstars, and hear the night wind cry.\n\nNow it chanced that there was another young soldier of Hugh\u2019s age\nenlisted in the company, and with this lad, whose name was Jocelyn,\nHugh presently became the best of friends. This Jocelyn was a\nmountaineer and was slender and yellow-haired; whilst Hugh was a lad\nof the plain and was sturdy of frame and dark. And because these two\nlads were the youngest of the company and were loyal friends, they\nmarched down the highway side by side and shared together the good and\nill of life.\n\nNow it came to pass upon a summer\u2019s night, as the soldiers lay encamped\nin fields by the royal city, that the great bell of the King\u2019s palace\nbroke the quiet of the stars with a loud and unending clangor of alarm.\nIt was late, the watch fires had almost burned away, and the soldiers,\nwaking in the dark, seized upon their arms and wondered at the din.\nAll at once, with a thunder of hoofs, a messenger from the city came\nspurring in with the news that war was at hand, and that the regiment\nmust break camp on the instant and speed to the borders of the realm.\nPresently fresh branches tossed upon the embers filled the camp with\nthe light of flames, and bugle calls rang through the tumult and the\nclanging of the bell.\n\nLeft! Right! Left! Right! And the soldiers were marching to the wars.\nThey came to ancient hamlets in the night, and found soldiers of other\ncompanies already sleeping in the barns; they marched through lonely\nforests, and warmed their noonday meal with a blaze of twigs and fallen\nboughs; they marched singing through the fields of golden grain. Soon\nthe villages and the fields grew rare, a silence fell upon the land,\nand the regiment found itself at the edge of a vast and lonely moor.\nRegiments without number were there encamped, and their bivouac fires\ngleamed at night like a thousand scattered stars.\n\nLeagues away, on barren hills rising to the north, were to be seen the\nfires of the foe.\n\nAnd now it was the morn of battle: a red sun was rising above the brown\nhills and hollows of the moor, the air was sluggish, and flat gray\nclouds lay motionless and low. Tarantara! Tarantara! went the bugles,\nregiment after regiment came marching to its post, the plain shook to\nthe tramp of feet, the horsemen gathered behind, the drums began to\nsound, the men in red-and-white marched down to the moor, and presently\nthe great hollow of the waste rang like a brazen cup with the beginning\ntumult of the fray.\n\nThe soldiers of the enemy were clad in black-and-white, and wore shiny\nleather hats with shiny golden stars.\n\nThe young comrades marched into battle side by side. And even as a\nbranch, thrust gently from the bank of a racing river, first moves\nslowly in calm waters by the edge of the stream and then is caught up\nand tossed about by the wild mid-torrent, so did the great tide of the\nbattle catch up Jocelyn and Hugh. They fought as in a dream, scarce\nknowing what they did.\n\nNow it came to pass that, at the storming of a grassy hillock of the\nmoor, Hugh was taken prisoner by the men in black-and-white, but was\nbravely rescued by Jocelyn who fought his way undaunted to his side.\nPresently the enemy yielded the disputed hill, and the company in\nred-and-white made ready to hold it for their own.\n\nThe day waned; a tide of dark and threatening cloud rose over the\nhorizon to the east, and a cold wind rode before it, bringing rain.\nAll at once a wild and terrible storm burst over the battle on the\nmoor; and, under cover of the thunder and confusion, the men in\nblack-and-white strove to regain the hillock for their own. A bellowing\nwind whipped the heavy rain in the soldiers\u2019 eyes, and it was very hard\nto see.\n\nNow it fortuned that, in the dark of the storm and the tumult of the\nfray, the boy Hugh became separated from his comrades and suddenly\nfound himself out of the battle, and wandering quite alone. Night was\nrushing on, the din of the combat was muffled in the roaring of the\nrain, and the young soldier scarce knew where to go.\n\nNow it was his duty to return to the battle, seek out his comrades,\nand fight beside them to the end. Alas, so weary and shaken was the\nsoldier lad that he made no effort to return to his hard-pressed\nfriends, but fled away from the battle through the dark! Presently the\nall but roofless ruin of a shepherd\u2019s hut appeared ahead, and Hugh took\nrefuge within it from the battle and the storm.\n\nAll night long he lay there on the stones of the floor, sunken in a\nshivering sleep; but the dawn woke him at last, and he crept to a\nwindow to look forth upon the moor.\n\nAll was still. The battle was lost. The men in black-and-white were\nencamped upon the nearer hillocks of the moor, and a company of their\nhorse was guarding a square of some hundred men in white-and-red.\n\nSuddenly the runaway soldier heard the beat of a distant drum and,\ngazing through a cranny of the ruined house, beheld a number of\nprisoners marching by, forlorn. A triumphant dragoon in black-and-white\nwas riding at their head; the drummer of his own company followed\nclose behind, mournfully beating his drum; and then, trudging wearily\non, appeared the good comrades whom he had deserted in their need. And\nJocelyn walked among them bareheaded, with his arms tied behind him at\nthe wrist.\n\nAnd now the dark waters of sorrow and shame welled up in the heart of\nthe runaway soldier, and he wept bitterly that he had failed to return\ninto the fray. He would have leaped from the house and taken his place\nwith his comrades, save that he could not bear that they should know of\nhis flight.\n\nNow it came to pass, when the drum-beats had faded into the silence of\nthe moor, that Hugh discovered a shepherd\u2019s smock and wide-brimmed hat\nhanging on a peg, and abandoned his uniform for these. Thus clad, he\nfled from the hut in the dead of night and made his escape across the\nmoor. Because of the triumph of the enemy, he dared not return into his\nown land, but fled to a kingdom in the west.\n\nPresently he came upon a village lying at the foot of a hill crowned\nwith a ruined tower, and there took service in the harvest fields.\n\nAs for Jocelyn and his comrades, they were marched into the enemy\u2019s\ncountry, thrust into dungeons, and held for ransom, one and all.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNow it fortuned that one noontide, as Hugh rested with fellow laborers\nin the greenwood shade, he asked them of the ruined castle on the hill.\n\n\u201cYon castle,\u201d said a big harvester with an important air, \u201cwas built\ncenturies ago by an old knight who was known throughout the land as a\nmagician. A treasure lies hid within, but none dare seek it; for those\nwho do--\u201d\n\n\u201cNever come back!\u201d croaked another harvester, a little lean man with\nthin legs and large red ears.\n\n\u201cOnce there was a brave adventurer who went to seek the treasure,\u201d said\na man with long, uncut, locks and a pointed nose. \u201cWe watched him\nclimb the hill, we saw him enter the castle, and all at once we heard--\u201d\n\n\u201cA terrible yell!\u201d said the big harvester and the red-eared man\ntogether.\n\n\u201cAnd he never came back,\u201d said somebody else, shaking his head.\n\n\u201cBless us,\u201d cried Hugh, \u201cbut what do you suppose it is that guards the\ntreasure?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, if you ask me, I\u2019ll tell you,\u201d said the big harvester; \u201cit\u2019s a\ntrigorgon.\u201d\n\n\u201cA trigorgon?\u201d questioned Hugh. \u201cAnd pray, sir, what is a trigorgon?\u201d\n\n\u201cA trigorgon is a creature that has only three legs,\u201d continued the\nbig harvester. \u201cIt\u2019s triangular and flattish, the one leg being at the\nfront under the long neck, the two legs riding behind. Short, thick,\nelephant-like legs, body like a turtle, double rows of teeth, violent\ndisposition. I\u2019ve read of it in a book.\u201d\n\n\u201cBother your book,\u201d cried red-ears. \u201cThe trigorgon you describe, my\ngood sir, is quite impossible. A trigorgon has its two legs in front,\nand its one leg behind. A neck has got to have shoulders to rest on,\nhasn\u2019t it? You see, young man, the trigorgon uses its one hind leg to\npush itself ahead at a frightful speed. I know!\u201d\n\n\u201cHow do you know?\u201d asked the big harvester with some displeasure.\n\n\u201cBecause the seventh son of a seventh son\u2019s great-grandmother told me!\u201d\nexclaimed red-ears triumphantly.\n\n\u201cBother your seventh son\u2019s great-grandmother!\u201d shouted the big\nharvester. \u201cNow, my book had large print and most wonderful pictures!\u201d\n\n\u201cPish!\u201d said red-ears.\n\n\u201cTush for you and your seventh son of a seventh son\u2019s great-gran--\u201d\n\n\u201cMy friends! My friends!\u201d interposed pointed-nose. \u201cWhy quarrel over\nthis absurd trigorgon? You are both wrong. The castle is haunted by a\nthith, a terribly dangerous thith. All over the land they say it\u2019s a\nthith.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho say?\u201d questioned the big harvester.\n\n\u201cThey say,\u201d replied pointed-nose.\n\n\u201cBother they, and all they say,\u201d shouted the big harvester, forgetting\nhis grammar. \u201cIt\u2019s a trigorgon!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt\u2019s a thith!\u201d shrieked pointed-nose.\n\nAnd now began a tremendous uproar in which everybody took part, some\nagreeing with the big harvester, some with red-ears, and some with\npointed-nose. A few who disbelieved in both the trigorgon and the thith\nstood disdainfully to one side, but suddenly they too began to quarrel\nviolently among themselves as to whether the castle was haunted by a\nmistophant, a winged bogus, a bristly whiskeroarer or an ugsome vrish.\nSo bitter grew the strife that presently red-ears and pointed-nose\nfell to fisticuffs and were separated with great difficulty by their\nfellow-harvesters.\n\n\u201cA treasure!\u201d said Hugh to himself. \u201cAh, if I could but find it, I\nwould ransom Jocelyn and the comrades.\u201d And with an uneasy heart, he\nthought of the trigorgon, the thith, the winged bogus, the snarling\nwhiskeroarer, the mistophant, and the vrish.\n\nHow terrible it would be to meet creatures so awful that no human being\nhad dared to see them! But Jocelyn and the comrades whom he had failed\nin their hour of peril on the moor, what of them? They were prisoners\nin the land of the foe; with the treasure of the castle he could ransom\nthem--was he to fail them again?\n\nAll at once the runaway young soldier threw back his shoulders bravely\nand lifted his eyes to the sky. He would seek the treasure on the\nmorrow\u2019s morn.\n\nThe sun was shining brightly, a cold dew was still glistening on the\nleaves, and the villagers had gathered by the public well to speed\nHugh on his way. Shaking their heads doubtfully and mournfully, they\nwatched him go swinging down the road and disappear into the trees upon\nthe hill. Presently the glint of his blue smock began to be seen here\nand there along the climbing path, close by the summit of the mount.\nA little anxious time passed, and suddenly there rang from the ruin a\nlong, wild howl.\n\n\u201cThere, the trigorgon has got him,\u201d said the big harvester.\n\n\u201cYou mean the giant thith,\u201d pointed-nose corrected.\n\nI am glad to tell you, however, that they were both wrong. This is what\nhad happened at the ruin.\n\nNow Hugh had carried an ancient lantern with him from the village, and\nhalfway up the hill he paused, cut a likely branch from an ash, and\nfashioned himself a stout and serviceable staff. Thus armed, he arrived\nat the great gate of the ruin, and forced his way through the thorn\ntrees by the portal into the roofless square of the walls. There were\ntrees there, too, and though the leaves were still green, every now and\nthen one went drifting through the silence to the ground. In the heart\nof the wooded court, a broad flight of steps, overgrown with moss and\nshrubs of shallow root, led down into a darkness far below.\n\nGrasping his cudgel firmly, Hugh descended the woodsy stair. The\nsunlight disappeared behind, the green moss grew no more, and clumps\nof leathery toadstools burst from the muddy crannies of the stone.\nSuddenly the runaway soldier found himself facing a giant pointed door\nof blackest adamant. Over the arch of it, in letters of ancient form,\nwas carved a legend saying:--\n\n    He who would share the treasure\n    must conquer a mighty foe within\n\nBehind the door something was roaring and roaring. \u201c\u2019Tis surely the\ntrigorgon,\u201d thought Hugh, his heart pounding at his ribs. Summoning up\nall his courage, the runaway soldier threw back the adamant door.\n\nThe instant he did so, the roaring rose to a howling shriek, and\na gust of the storm wind, magically imprisoned in the caves of the\nhill, went whistling out of the adamant door and up the tunnel of the\nstairway to the sun. It was this cry of the imprisoned gust which had\nmade them shake their heads in the village below.\n\nAnd now Hugh bravely set foot into the darkness and, holding his\ntwinkling light at arm\u2019s length ahead, advanced to meet the mighty foe\nwithin. Through great halls he fared, and heard queer noises which he\ntook to be the steps of the trigorgon, but were only the echoes of his\nown steps tapping in the dark; through long tunnels he trod, and heard\nbreathings and whispers which he took to be the sighs of the thith,\nbut were only the echoes of a chuckling brook, flowing somewhere in\nthe wall. On and on went Hugh, and laughed a little to himself when he\nmistook two shining points of stone for the eyes of the winged bogus,\nand a monstrous round rock for the bulk of the mistophant.\n\n[Illustration: _Summoning up all his courage, Hugh threw open the\nadamant door_]\n\nAfter a while, I am glad to tell you, he even ceased turning around now\nand then to see if he were being followed by the whiskeroarer or the\nvrish.\n\nPresently Hugh began to hear the queerest tinkling-clinking ringing\nsound, unbroken in its flow as the trilling of a stream. A moment later\nthe youth opened a second pointed door and stood in a lighted chamber,\nstaring at a _fountain of money_.\n\nThe chamber was high and square; its roof and walls were of blackest\nadamant, twinkly-bright with specks of yellow gold, and a magic,\never-burning lamp of adamant hung from above, yielding a golden light.\nIn the height of the further wall a great fountain-like opening\nthere was, framed in a golden star, and through this there poured a\nringing cataract of coins of yellow gold! Below the shower of money, a\nsemicircular basin, raised above the floor on pillars strangely carved,\nreceived the golden flood and lay full to the brim of clinking pieces\nof gold rising, falling, tossing, and washing about like waters in a\npool. About the brim of the fountain there ran a sculptured band of\nstone whereon men were shown engaged in honorable labor--the farmer\nscattered the seed, the harvester gathered the grain, the smith labored\nat his forge, and a master workman carved a fair statue from a block of\nfaultless stone.\n\nAnd Hugh, pausing to look at the pieces of gold, saw that they were of\nancient years and sealed with the seal of old, forgotten kings.\n\nNow it came to pass that, when Hugh had filled his pockets and his hat\nwith gold, he discovered a third adamant door leading from the chamber\nand, passing through it, found himself blinking in the sunlight on the\nfurther side of the hill. Strange to say, in the wall of stone behind\nhim there was never a sign or appearance of a door!\n\nBut the mighty foe within--what could it be? He had seen nothing of\nthe trigorgon, the thith, the winged bogus, the whiskeroarer, the\nmistophant, or the vrish. Yet the inscription had said that he must\nconquer a foe. Suddenly Hugh threw his hands into the air with a great\nmerry shout; he had found the key to the mystery.\n\nIt was all a wise jest of the old knight. The foe to be conquered was\nfear, and \u201cthe mighty foe within\u201d meant the host of silly fears which\nrun and hide in the house of one\u2019s heart. The treasure had been guarded\nagainst men by their own fears. Brave men, who sent fears hurrying and\nscurrying out of their hearts, alone were worthy of the prize.\n\nAs for the trigorgon, the thith, the winged bogus, the whiskeroarer,\nthe mistophant, and the ugsome vrish, they had never existed, for they\nwere not creatures, but silly, thoughtless imaginings and fears.\n\nAnd now Hugh, with his pockets laden with gold, walked over the hills\nto the enemy\u2019s land, and ransomed his comrade Jocelyn and the dear\nfriends with whom he had marched to battle on the moor.\n\nPresently a just and mighty emperor compelled both kingdoms to make\npeace, and the men in red-and-white and the men in black-and-white went\nhome to their fields and their dear ones gathered by the fire.\n\nAnd Hugh and Jocelyn shared the treasure together, and their farms lay\nside by side.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CITY OF THE WINTER SLEEP\n\n\nOnce upon a time, by the banks of a noble river flowing to the sea\nthrough a mountain-girdled plain, stood a city of the wisest people\nin the world. Instead of spending the winter as others did, huddled\nover smoky fires, freezing ears and noses, bundling themselves up in a\npother of clothes, and being cross at breakfast, these sensible folk\nsimply retired to their dwellings, locked their doors, drew down their\ncurtains, put on their nightcaps, got into bed, and _slept the winter\naway_. The north wind howled there about the shuttered houses and woke\nno citizen from his dreams; in the empty market place and the silent\nstreets, stainless and untrodden lay the snow. But when the leaves were\nthe size of a mouse\u2019s ear, and the singing birds had returned from\ntheir winter pilgrimage, the sleepy citizens would wake, rub their\neyes, stretch their arms, and come yawning to open their windows on the\nsunlight and the spring.\n\nThe King of this remarkable city, I must tell you, had three children,\nthe two elder of whom were sons and the youngest a daughter. Now, as\noccasionally happens, the two sons were models of royal deportment,\nwhilst their sister, the slender, dark-haired, and dark-eyed Princess\nTheolette, was as wilful and spirited as a mountain bird.\n\nNow, on a day when the year was growing old and only a few\nhalf-withered flowers were to be gathered in the fields, it chanced\nthat Theolette, who had been idling about with little to do, took\nit into her head to pay a visit to the royal library. It was very\nquiet there, the red autumn sun was shining through the great\nwindows, a million motes of dust danced in the broad and ruddy beam,\nand Theolette, curled in a huge red-leather easy-chair, had great\ndifficulty in keeping awake. Presently her eyes lit upon a large green\nbook entitled, _Winter Time_, and this Theolette took from its place\nand opened in her lap.\n\nSomewhat to her disappointment, the print within the old book was in\na foreign language, but the pictures--they would have kept anyone\nfrom sleeping! There were pictures of snowy mountain-tops, of bright,\nfrozen lakes with people skating on them, of attacks on snow forts,\nof snowstorms in pleasant country villages, and of belfries agleam\nwith snow beneath the moon. Now, although Theolette had never seen the\nwinter or any snow or ice and could hardly make anything out of some\nof the pictures, she could see well enough that here was something\nstrange, and new, and wonderful indeed. And then and there she resolved\nto run away during the winter sleep, see the winter world, and return\nbefore the city woke to the coming of the spring!\n\nShorter grew the golden days, and longer the still cold nights, and\npresently the great day of the winter sleep was at hand. A trumpeter,\nposted in the tower of dreams, at sunrise called the city to its last\nmorn of waking life; and scarce had his last notes faded, ere a murmur\nof bustle and preparations began to rise from every household in the\ntown.\n\nAt sunset, in accordance with ancient custom, the edict of sleep was\nread to the people from a balcony of the palace. This venerable law, I\nmust tell you, summoned all good citizens to go to sleep, and recited\nthe dreadful penalties prepared for all who should dare to stay awake.\nWhen the gathering had melted away, and the streets were empty save for\na hurrying citizen or two on some belated errand, the gates were locked\nand the waters of the river turned into the moat about the town.\n\nThe enchanted chimes of sleep, which rang of themselves, were to sound\nat the midnight hour.\n\nLittle by little, the royal palace became as silent as a stone. A\ndarkness of slumber and night filled the vast echoing halls, and from\nafar through the gloom came the faint tramp, tramp of the hob-nailed\nnight-watch on the last round of the year.\n\nAfter attending the ceremonial winter good-night of the royal family,\nTheolette hurried away to her own chamber.\n\n\u201cI mustn\u2019t fall asleep now,\u201d said she, clenching her fist, \u201cbecause if\nI do, I\u2019ll sleep until the spring!\u201d And with a heart that went thump,\nthump, thump in the darkness, she waited the midnight hour.\n\nSuddenly the first warning bell--_Nightcaps On!_--struck one great\nsolemn rolling clang which swept out over the city and ebbed away\nhumming to the stars.\n\nAnd now, after a pause, sounded the second bell--_Lights out!_\nTheolette sat down in a great chair, arose, walked about, sat down\nagain, and arose once more. Would the third bell never ring?\n\nPresently--_Everybody to bed!_--boomed the third bell. Theolette put\nher fingers to her ears. Solemn and sweet and strange and golden, the\nenchanted chimes were sounding their fairy tune.\n\nNow, once the song of the chimes had come to an end and the throbbing\nhumming of the last grave chord had melted into the air, Theolette went\nto her window, drew back the curtain, and looked forth over the city\nsleeping in the starlight. How strange and still they were, those dark\nstreets winding like crooked brooks through banks of huddled roofs.\nSuddenly the Princess uttered a little cry of surprise!\n\nFar away across the sleeping city, in a little house by the wall, a\nyellow light was gleaming! And now the light moved, went from window to\nwindow, vanished, reappeared, and vanished yet again.\n\nSomeone else was awake in the city! Who could it be?\n\nPuzzled, but not the littlest bit afraid, the Princess went to her\nwardrobe and dressed herself as well as she could in a little red\nhunting-dress and cap. Then, throwing her warmest mantle over her\nshoulders and taking a lighted candle with her, she made her way from\nher chamber down the great stairway to the palace door. Fantastic\nshadows leaped and swayed as the Princess, holding aloft her taper,\ndescended the long broad flight, and somewhere a huge clock ticked on,\nsolemn, dutiful, and forgotten. Opening the door gently, Theolette\nstepped forth into the dark street and hurried along it to the royal\ngate of the city wall.\n\nAll seemed well; the gates were locked, and the drawbridge of the moat\nwas lifted high above the black and starry waters. Standing motionless\nfor a moment in one of the shadowy nooks of the giant portal, Theolette\nlistened for a footfall or a sound, but heard only the sigh of the\nnight wind and the ripple of water in the moat. Reassured by the\nsilence, the Princess lowered the drawbridge, unlocked the great gate\nwith her father\u2019s own key, opened one vast swinging door, locked it\nbehind her, and walked off bravely into the dark and lonely land.\n\n[Illustration: _The runaway Princess stepped forth into the dark street\nand, taper in hand, hurried to the gate of the city wall_]\n\nOn the following morning, a little after the dawn, the Princess arrived\nat a country town just over the frontier of her father\u2019s realm, and\nthere she sought out the inn and made preparations for her runaway\nwinter-pilgrimage. From the host, a little white horse she purchased,\nand from the host\u2019s fourth son, who happened to be a tailor, a fine\nwarm riding-habit of country wool. Thus clad, away into the winter\nworld galloped the adventurous Theolette. Of what befell her, you soon\nshall hear.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd what a wonderful pilgrimage it was through the world of ice and\nsnow! I wish I had time to tell you of all she saw and of all she did,\nof how the first snowstorm so pleased her that she almost lost her\nway in the whirl of the flakes, of her first look at a bit of ice, of\nher visit to the winter festival of the Fairy of the Snows, of how\nshe danced the minuet at the polar bears\u2019 ball, and of how she rode\nAldebaran, the skating horse, up and down the ice lakes of the wild.\nWhite as snow was this marvelous animal, and of blue leather edged with\nwhite were his saddle and bridle, whilst the skates he wore were of the\nblackest and shiniest adamant. You should have seen him skating o\u2019er\nthe lakes, now striking out with this hoof, now with that; his head\nheld high, his long silky tail streaming in the wind. And Theolette\nthought, as she rode, of the old book in the royal library and of the\nCity of the Winter Sleep far away, with the storm crying unheeded\nthrough its dream.\n\nAnd now the winter waned, a venturesome bird or two returned to rock\non budding twigs, the earth began to turn from brown to green, and\nTheolette knew that she must hasten back at once. Alas! one pleasant\nmorning, as she was nearing the borders of her father\u2019s land, a band of\nrobbers suddenly sprang at her out of a wood, bound her securely, and\nhurried her to their castle with the intention of demanding a ransom.\nOnce there, they pushed the Princess roughly into a little cobwebby\nturret-chamber, slammed and locked the heavy oaken door behind her, and\nleft her to her thoughts.\n\nFrom her window in the turret, Theolette could see the highroad leading\ntoward the castle through the wooded lowlands, and the broad winding\nstream of a mighty river--the very river, indeed, which flowed by the\nwalls of the City of the Winter Sleep. With every warm and sunny hour\nthe spring was driving old winter from the land, the scales of tree\nbuds were unsealing, frogs were piping in tiny triumph from every marsh\nand pool, and there were pleasant earthy smells in the air.\n\n\u201cThe spring awakening is surely close at hand,\u201d thought Theolette.\n\u201cWhat _shall_ I do?\u201d\n\nNow, one sunny morning as the disconsolate Princess walked to and fro\nin her little room, it came to pass that she heard from the road below\na pleasant voice singing a strange old song of her own land. It was\na song about a soldier who had fought in the wars and returned in the\nspring to plough the dear earth he had loved and defended. And, hearing\nthe old song, Theolette uttered a joyful cry and ran to the window.\nA youth in a student\u2019s dress of green stood in the highroad directly\nunder the window; he had heard the cry, and stood looking up at the\nsunny wall.\n\n\u201cStay, good sir,\u201d cried Theolette, \u201cand tell me who you are that sings\na song of mine own land.\u201d\n\nTo this the pleasant youth replied that he was but a student who had\nstolen away from the City of Winter Sleep, and was even then hastening\nback lest his absence be discovered. And Theolette remembered the light\nshe had seen in the old house by the city wall.\n\nAnd now Theolette told the student of her adventures and begged of him\nto aid her. You may be sure that the student, who was a fine brave\nfellow, needed no second entreaty! Being a clever youth as well as\na brave one, he skillfully managed to lure the robbers away from the\ncastle that very eve, and fling a coiled rope to the Princess. And,\nhand over hand, with feet pressed close against the cord, down came the\nadventurous Theolette.\n\nNow, one of the robbers, a small one, had ridden away with Theolette\u2019s\nlittle white horse, so the student hurried Theolette to the river bank\nwhere a boat lay waiting. Alas, the vessel was scarce large enough for\na single passenger!\n\n\u201cSee, Princess, the river is in flood,\u201d said the youth, \u201cand you have\nbut to step into this vessel and be carried swiftly to the city.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what of you, brave friend?\u201d said Theolette. \u201cYou will be late now,\nand your flight from the city will be known.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo not fear, Princess,\u201d replied the student with a queer, half-merry\nsmile. \u201cThere is still time, and I can make haste as well as any man.\nTo tell you truth, I have never felt at home in the city, anyway. But\nenough of words. Hasten, Lady Theolette, for the robbers will soon\nreturn.\u201d\n\nAnd now Theolette found herself on the mighty river in the full\nhurly-burly of its springtide flood. On and on she swept through the\nnight, league after league, now floating quietly over lowlands turned\nto lakes; now borne headlong with the torrent down valleys and ravines.\nSolitary and fugitive, one great star shone close above the distant\npeaks.\n\nJust as the dawn was streaking the east with rose and gray, the\nPrincess gained her father\u2019s city. The drawbridge was still lowered\nacross the moat, the city was still sealed in its winter dream.\n\nAfter thrusting the little boat once more forth into the full current\nof the river, Theolette ran to the palace and went to her own room.\nWith a little sigh, she folded away the worn red hunting-dress and cap\nshe had been wearing--the riding-habit of country wool had been left\nbehind somewhere at the return of spring--and crept into her little\nsilken bed. So weary was she that scarce had her head touched the\npillow ere she was sound asleep.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nWhen she opened her eyes again, a whole day and a night had passed, the\nCity had risen from the winter sleep, and her mother stood bending over\nher with an amused smile. Loud and clear and joyous the silver bells of\nthe spring-awakening were ringing o\u2019er the town.\n\n\u201cGood gracious, Theolette,\u201d said her mother, \u201cbut what a sleeper you\nare! I\u2019ve been shaking you for the last ten minutes. Get up now, that\u2019s\na dear, and wear your rose frock to the grand spring breakfast.\u201d\n\nA little later Theolette, feeling just the tiniest bit bewildered,\nsat down to breakfast with her father the King, her mother the Queen,\nand the two Princes her brothers. And there, moved by an impulse of\ntruth and courage--for, though wilful, Theolette was as faithful to\nhigh honor as a vowed knight--the Princess told them all the tale of\nher runaway adventures. To her surprise, she could win none of them to\nbelieve her story!\n\n\u201cYou have been dreaming, Theolette,\u201d said her father, gravely shaking\nhis head and reaching for a royal muffin. \u201cBut I called you myself!\u201d\nexclaimed her mother, pausing from her royal marmalade. And as for\nTheolette\u2019s two brothers, they pretended that polite disbelief which\nyoung men find so delightfully irritating when teasing their sisters.\n\nWeeks passed, spring followed winter into the cupboard of time, and\nTheolette could find no one to believe her story. Weary of insisting,\nand shaken by the unbelief of those about her, the Princess began to\nwonder in her own heart if it were not all a dream. Nothing remained of\nit all, and it was so like a dream!\n\nHer head bowed low, her eyes full of doubt and memories, the Princess\nmused all day, and finally grew so pale that her royal parents became\nquite alarmed, and took counsel to send their daughter on a long\nvisit to her aunt, the Queen of the Golden Mountain. On the morn of\ndeparture, Theolette walked to the great hall of state to say farewell.\n\n\u201cA dream, a dream; was it only a dream?\u201d thought Theolette. And she saw\nagain the winter world, and the polar bears\u2019 ball, with the candles\nburning in chandeliers of icicles, and the skating horse, and the\npleasant youth in green who had saved her from the robbers. Could it\nhave been only a dream? With a sigh and a doubting shake of her head,\nthe Princess took her place at the head of her ladies and approached\nher father and mother.\n\nAnd now, of a sudden, from the sunny street below the pillared window,\na voice was heard singing. And the voice sang an old song of a soldier\nwho had fought in the wars and returned in the spring to plough the\ndear earth he had loved and defended. A hush fell over the astounded\nassembly.\n\n\u201cStop, I pray you!\u201d cried Theolette, turning pale as the new-fallen\nsnow. \u201cO hasten, good soldiers, and bring yon singer here before me!\u201d\n\nAnd now a group of guards rushed through the swinging doors to do her\nbidding. Presently they returned, bringing with them the student who\nhad saved Theolette from the robbers! He was very pale, there were\nirons on his wrists, and two burly turnkeys, dressed in red and black,\nstood beside him. And, beholding Theolette, the poor youth drew in his\nbreath with a start and met her gaze with strange eyes.\n\n\u201cSpeak! What does this mean? Who is this fellow?\u201d cried the King,\nrising from his throne.\n\n\u201cMay it please Your Majesty,\u201d replied a turnkey, falling on one knee,\n\u201cthis youth is a student of the College of Dreams who disobeyed the\nedict of sleep and ran away from the city. He was captured as he tried\nto return after the spring awakening, brought before the Court of\nDreams, and sentenced to pay the penalty. We were on our way with him\nto the dungeons under the river when the royal guards surrounded us\nand led us here. What is your will, O King?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy will is that the judgment be obeyed,\u201d replied the King. \u201cLead him\nforth to his doom!\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, hear me, father,\u201d cried Theolette. \u201cIf he is guilty, so am I! I,\ntoo, disobeyed the edict; I, too, ran away. This is the brave youth who\nso gallantly preserved me from the robbers! Oh, will you not believe me\nnow? It is not a dream--it never was a dream!\u201d\n\nAt these words, a stir of excitement swept through the vast hall;\nindeed, it seemed as if all there were trying to talk, to protest, to\nsupport, to dispute, to explain. The uproar was at its height when\nthe boom of a cannon first quieted, then roused the hubbub to an even\ngreater pitch.\n\n\u201cA royal visitor!\u201d exclaimed the King. \u201cWhat can this mean? Let no one\nstir!\u201d\n\nPresently, there was a fanfare of many trumpets, the great portals of\nthe hall swung open, and there entered a crowned King and his train.\n\n\u201cO King of the City of the Winter Sleep,\u201d cried the newcomer, \u201chear\nme, for I have come from afar and in great haste. I am the King of the\nNorth and I seek my only son, Prince Florimond, who was stolen from\nhis cradle twenty years ago. The Fairy of the Isles has revealed that\nI shall find him here. He dwells in a house by the city wall and is a\nstudent of the College of Dreams. I pray you search for him at once,\nfor my heart hungers to behold him!\u201d\n\n\u201cFlorimond? Florimond?\u201d cried the Lord Chancellor of the College,\nstepping forward, \u201cthere is but one Florimond in the city and, as I\nlive, this youth is he!\u201d And presently all beheld that the great King\nand the runaway student were indeed father and son. To pardon the\nrunaway youth and loose him from his bonds was but a moment\u2019s task.\nThis done, a royal herald proclaimed a three days\u2019 holiday.\n\nOn the last evening of the festival, Florimond and Theolette walked\nalone to a great balcony and looked forth over the city, the river,\nand the mountain-circled plain. It was midsummer eve, the warm night\nwas sweet with the fragrance of many flowers, and the music of lutes\nand viols sounded faintly through the pleasant air.\n\n\u201cWas it a wonder that I ran away,\u201d said the Prince, laughing, \u201cwhen I\nwasn\u2019t born a winter sleeper?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe winter--ah, what fun it all was!\u201d answered Theolette. \u201cI wonder if\nI shall ever see it again.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou shall see it every year if you will only consent to be Princess\nof the North,\u201d replied Florimond, with a gallant smile. And then and\nthere the two runaways pledged their troth. The wedding over, Florimond\nreturned to his own land, taking Theolette with him; and, unless you\nhave heard to the contrary, they are living there happily still.\n\n\n\n\nAILEEL AND AILINDA\n\n\nOnce upon a time a company of jugglers, acrobats, and other strays,\ntraveling afoot to the Fair of the Golden Bear, arrived at twilight\nin a glen close by a village and encamped there for the night. From\neventide till late into the dark, the watchful villagers beheld their\nhuge fire blazing behind the dark columns of the trees; but at dawn all\nwas still, for the wanderers had risen by the glow of the morning star,\nand fared away toward the sea.\n\nNow it came to pass that an old villager, whose lands lay beyond the\nglen, rose early that morn, and with his hoe on his shoulder walked to\nhis labor through the sunrise, the quiet, and the dew. Arriving at the\nglen, he turned aside for a moment from the path and out of curiosity\nwandered in to gaze at the trampled grass and the burned circle of the\nfire. Suddenly he caught his breath with a start. Two little children,\na boy in tattered leather and a girl in a ragged frock of blue, were\nlying fast asleep on a pile of yellow straw.\n\nAnd now the two children stood, hand in hand, in the house of the\nMaster Villager, gazing up into the faces of a dozen gathered there\nto see them and to question. The little boy, who was brown-haired and\nbrown-eyed, bore himself bravely and appeared sturdy and strong, whilst\nthe tiny girl, whose blue eyes were full of frightened tears, seemed\nvery gentle and shy. Of who their parents were, and of how it had\nfortuned that they had been thus forsaken, neither the little boy nor\nthe girl could tell; indeed the most that could be gathered from them\nwas that they were not brother and sister, and that the lad\u2019s name was\nAileel and the girl\u2019s, Ailinda.\n\nForlorn, forsaken, and unknown, the children of the wanderers remained\nin the village and were given to certain villagers to house and to\nkeep. It was the lot of Aileel to become the foster son and little\napprentice of Braulio, the good smith, whilst tiny Ailinda fell into\nthe hands of Tharbis, the grudging and envious miser of the town.\n\nAnd now passed many years; and Aileel, of whom you first must hear,\ngrew to be a comely young smith, wise in the lore of iron and of\nfire. Tall was he, broad-shouldered and very strong, yet so lithe and\nswift-moving withal that none in his wide land of the Blue Hills could\nmaster him in a trial of strength or speed. His favorite pastime was\ncountry wrestling, and on holiday morns you were sure to see him and\nhis good foster father wandering down the village lanes to the day\u2019s\nwrestling-match, each tricked out in his best, each with a fine blue\nkerchief knotted at the throat. And when Aileel, after a stirring\nbattle of catch and turn and tug and strain would hold his rival\u2019s\nshoulders to the straw and then leap up, light as air, joyful and\nvictorious, how honest Braulio would shout and pound together his huge\nhands!\n\nTheir smithy stood by the village brook; of gray-green stone its\nwalls were made, and its roof of heart-of-oak turned silvery brown.\nIt was a brave sight, I can tell you, to see the fire rising hot and\nviolet-white from the forge, brightening Aileel\u2019s face as he bent to\nit and gazed within it at the iron turning ruddy gold; and there was a\nbrave music, too, in the clang-clanging of the anvil \u2019neath his blows.\n\nFar otherwise, alas, were the fortunes of Ailinda! Scolded to work\nat the earliest dawn and kept at some task till well into the night,\nthe poor maiden had hardly a moment\u2019s time to call her own. Whenever\nhe could and as often, Aileel came to help her with her toil; he drew\nwater from the well, carried in the wood, and aided her in the garden\nin the cool of the golden day.\n\nIn spite of this hard life, I am glad to tell you, Ailinda grew up to\nbe as fine a lass as Aileel a lad. Her eyes were as blue as the waters\nof the bright September sea, the glance they gave was full of patience\nand courage, her long golden hair was as splendid as a queen\u2019s.\nEverybody loved her and helped her--all save Tharbis\u2019s only son, her\njealous foster-brother, Potpan.\n\nSquat, round-nosed, and leering-eyed, there was no spiteful trick in\nall the world which this wretch was not prepared to try. He would slyly\nnip the buds from flowers Ailinda had planted, so that they might not\nbloom; he would drive the cows at twilight back into the fields; he\nwould roll the clean milk-pans in the mire. Left to his own counsel,\nAileel would soon have taught the wretch a lasting lesson, but as\nAilinda feared lest after such a battle Aileel be forbidden the house,\nshe endured much, saying naught.\n\nBut presently came matters to a head.\n\nNow it chanced upon a May Day, that a fair blue kerchief had been\nchosen as the wrestler\u2019s prize, and this prize Aileel won gallantly,\nand offered to Ailinda. Gathering the kerchief together again in the\nfolds in which it had already lain, the maiden, for fear of Potpan,\nhid the kerchief in a cranny of a room. Presently arrived the sunny\nmorn of the year\u2019s midsummer holiday. At high noon, her thankless toil\nfor a moment o\u2019er, Ailinda went to take the kerchief from its nook.\n\nThe kerchief was no longer there!\n\nSuddenly she heard a loud ill-natured guffaw, and turning, found Potpan\nat a window, watching all. He was dressed in his best festival finery,\nand Ailinda\u2019s pretty kerchief was knotted at his neck. The maiden\u2019s\nheart sank; her brave eyes filled with tears, yet she ran forth and\nconfronted the robber face to face.\n\n\u201cGive me my kerchief, Potpan,\u201d said she, \u201cOh, give me my kerchief,\nPotpan!\u201d\n\n\u201cYour kerchief?\u201d answered Potpan with another rude guffaw. \u201cHa! Ha!\nThat\u2019s a good one! Your kerchief, indeed! I found this kerchief myself,\nand I mean to keep it, too.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is mine, Potpan,\u201d replied poor Ailinda. \u201cGive me my kerchief,\nPotpan.\u201d\n\n\u201cI suppose you would wear it at the festival,\u201d jeered Potpan. \u201cThe\nnotion of your going to the festival! Go back to your kettles and\npails!\u201d\n\nA pause of quiet now followed, and all at once Ailinda heard through\nthe stillness the sound of a closing gate. Suddenly Aileel came\nstriding swiftly to her side.\n\n\u201cCome, Potpan,\u201d said Aileel sternly, \u201cGive Ailinda my kerchief!\u201d\n\n\u201cAt your command, you wanderers\u2019 brat?\u201d cried Potpan, furious with\nrage. \u201cBe off or I\u2019ll teach you how I--\u201d but here his speech came to an\nend; Aileel, turning swiftly as the wind, caught him in a wrestler\u2019s\ngrasp, held him fast, and undid the kerchief from his neck. This done,\nthe young smith freed him and pushed him contemptuously aside. Hardly\nhad he done this, however, when Potpan caught up a great stone and\nflung it, striking Aileel with it upon the hand.\n\nAnd now there came a real tussle, for Potpan, though squat, was no\nmean antagonist. A real tussle it was, but a short one, for suddenly\nAileel\u2019s handsome face cleared, he laughed a little merry laugh even,\nand catching up Potpan in all his finery, held him high for all his\nkicking, walked with him a little space, and tossed him splash into the\nduck pond! You should have heard the squawking and the quacking of the\nducks, and seen the scrambling, and the paddling, and the indignant\ntail-feather-shaking as Potpan fell into the mud-brown pool. One yellow\nduckling with cold wet feet walked on his ear.\n\nBut what an uproar awaited Aileel and Ailinda on their return from the\nfestival!\n\nTelling a wicked and lying story, Tharbis and Potpan had gone about\namong the villagers, picturing Aileel as a violent and dangerous\nruffian whom it was unsafe to have about, and urging that the\nwanderers\u2019 lad be sent away from the village. Now Tharbis was very\nrich, and there were many in his debt who dared not disagree with him;\na dispute arose, the village took sides, and the partisans of Tharbis\nand Potpan snatched the victory. At the head of a crew of hangers-on\narmed with sticks and scythes, Tharbis and Potpan came in triumph to\nthe smithy, held Braulio and his foster son to the wall, and bade the\nlatter leave the village at once, never to return.\n\n\u201cI go, Potpan,\u201d replied Aileel, the same strange little smile on his\nlips, \u201cbut I shall return some day, and I shall toss you into the duck\npond once again.\u201d\n\n\u201cEnough! Be off, wanderers\u2019 brat!\u201d cried Potpan\u2019s crew. \u201cBegone, and\nnever let us see your face again!\u201d\n\nSo now Aileel bade his dear foster-father farewell, entrusted Ailinda\nto his care, and fared over hill, over dale, to the Kingdom of Iron in\nthe Land of the Fiery Mountains.\n\nWhen Aileel arrived there, it was twilight; the east behind him was\nalready dark and blossoming with stars, and the immense plain at his\nfeet lay full of earthy vapor and vague gloom. Night was gathering\nbehind, night was gathering below, but beyond the vast sweep of dark\nthe western sky was still aglow with a great splendor of the purest\nemerald-green. Rising steep and solitary, each one, from the dark of\nthe plain, a thousand black mountains towered to the green light,\ntheir heads crowned with rosy glows of fire. Some from their burning\ncraters tossed great showers of golden sparks; some were crowned with\nhuge tongues of many-colored flames; some poured forth rolling smoke;\nand over others hung clouds illumined with the red of fire deep below.\nPresently the green of the sky deepened and died, and night came to the\nLand of Fire.\n\nThese Fiery Mountains, I must tell you, were the forges of the people\nof the kingdom, who were sturdy smiths, armorers, and artificers, one\nand all. Their royal city stood half upon the plain, half upon the\nslope of the greatest of the burning heights, and everything within\nit was of iron made. Of iron were the king\u2019s palace and his throne, of\niron the royal crown, of iron the money, of iron the houses, of iron\nthe walls and towers, and of iron the motionless and shrill-tongued\ntrees along the way.\n\nAnd now Aileel took service with the Lord of the Royal Forge that he\nmight learn from him all the world\u2019s wisdom of iron and of fire. The\ngreat iron halls of the royal forge were built in the caves of the\nFiery Mountains, and within them toiled Aileel from daylight to the\ndark, his ears half deafened with the music of a thousand anvils, and\nthe rumbling-grumbling of the great forge-fire. Presently the Lord of\nthe Forge became so pleased with the skill, the industry, and the good\nspirit of the comely young smith, that he took him to lodge in his huge\niron house.\n\nOne morn Aileel said to his friend and master, \u201cHonored sir, it is in\nmy mind to fashion something never yet seen in the Kingdom of Iron.\nGrant me, I pray, the great chamber beyond the black cave to be my\nvery own.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt shall be yours, worthy Aileel,\u201d replied the Lord of the Royal\nForge. \u201cHere is the key.\u201d\n\nFrom morn till night, behind the locked door, the people of the royal\nforge heard Aileel toiling at his secret task. Now they heard him at\nhis anvil, now they heard him carrying his iron to melt in the fires of\nthe mountain, now they heard him whistling snatches of a tune.\n\n\u201cWhat can he be making?\u201d said they, and they peeked through the\nkeyhole, but could see nothing at all.\n\nBut now you must hear of Potpan and Ailinda.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAt first, with Aileel driven from the village and venturing afar, the\npoor maiden had gone about in deadly fear of Potpan and Tharbis; but\nas both of them had a wholesome respect for Braulio, it had fortuned\nthat her lot was neither worse nor better than before. Tharbis still\nscolded her to work, shirking Potpan gave her oft a heavy task, yet day\nby day, in spite of all their ugly tricks, brave and patient Ailinda\ngrew to be quite the loveliest maid in all the land. Finally even\nPotpan himself began to see her loveliness, and told her one evening\nthat they were to be married in a fortnight\u2019s time! Wild with anxiety\nand determined to run away rather than enter into any such hateful\nalliance, Ailinda sought out Braulio and told him of her plight.\n\n\u201cFear not, Ailinda,\u201d said the brave smith. \u201cThough a fortnight be but a\nlittle time, and the Kingdom of Iron a week\u2019s journey down the world,\nyet shall Aileel be here before this wedding comes to pass. I will\nfetch him myself and at once!\u201d\n\nAnd now Braulio climbed to the saddle of his huge white horse, and\ngalloped off on the road to the Fiery Mountains. Alas, just as the\nsmith was descending the slope to a glass bridge over a river, the\nwhite horse stumbled and fell, throwing Braulio over his head and\nlaming him severely. Hobbling along, lame horse, lame master, the pair\nmade so slow an advance to the Kingdom of Iron, that it was not until\nmidnight of the thirteenth day that Braulio knocked at the iron door of\nthe Lord of the Royal Forge.\n\nSeated in a great chair of wrought black iron, Braulio poured forth his\nunhappy story to Aileel, the Lord of the Royal Forge, and the latter\u2019s\ngood wife. Strange to say, an odd little smile gathered on Aileel\u2019s\nlips as he heard the tale, even such a smile as he had worn when he had\ntossed Potpan in the pool.\n\n\u201cThe wedding morn of Potpan and Ailinda?\u201d said Aileel. \u201cThat shall\nnever be! Come, take heart, good friends, and quick, all of us to the\nchamber in the cave!\u201d\n\nThe night was clear and windless, but only the brightest stars were to\nbe seen, for the great Fire Mountain above the city was crowned with an\nimmense whirl of gold and orange flame which flooded town and sky with\nflaring light. Up a broad iron stair, along the slope, and into the\nmountain through a mighty iron portal, fled the little company. Bright\ntorches gleamed in the iron halls and caves, the roar of the great\nforge shook the earth, and the iron floors were warm beneath their\nfeet. And now as Aileel unlocked his door and flung it open wide, his\nfriends uttered together a great cry of joy and surprise.\n\nThe young smith had fashioned a wonderful flying bird of iron! Its\nwings, which it flapped like a real bird, were of iron tempered a\nlovely jewel-blue, its breast was of iron forged to a silver-gray, and\nits beak and claws and living round eyes were of iron as red as fire.\nWithin it a spring of iron lay, which one wound up with a huge black\nkey; one steered it by pulling shiny iron chains attached to a collar\nround its neck. And there was a great comfortable seat, too, in the\nbody between the wings--a seat with a huge high back in the fashion of\na splendid sleigh, cushions of sunniest larkspur-blue, and just enough\nroom for three.\n\nSo Aileel wound up the spring, clickety clack, clickety clack, clickety\nclack, bundled Braulio into the seat, swung back a lofty door he had\nopened in the side of the mountain, waved farewell, and flew out into\nthe golden glow of the fiery night. Over the forges of iron he fled,\nand saw their flaming deeps and felt their hot breath; he winged\nhis way over woodlands and mountains and rivers and gleaming lakes.\nBraulio, beside him, hung on to his hat all the time, and only once in\na while looked over the side. On and on went Aileel and Braulio, yet\nthe sunrise found them far away from the land of the Blue Hills.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd now it was the wedding morn and the wedding hour; the sun was\nshining, bells were ringing, and music was sounding in the street.\nFearful of her running away, Potpan had locked Ailinda in her chamber,\nfirst advising her to put on a merry countenance lest she be well\nslapped. Presently women of the village came to attire her in wedding\nfinery, and Ailinda, her heart sunken in a despairing dream, suffered\nthem to do their will.\n\nThe bells were ringing now their loudest peals, and presently Potpan\npushed Ailinda rudely up to a place on the seat of the gay cart which\nwas to carry them to the wedding festival. This bridal cart was painted\na fine bright blue, its sides and the spokes of its two great wheels\nwere garlanded with flowers, an arch of flowers had been built over the\nseat, and the two snow-white oxen who drew it brandished horns gilded\nwith bright gold.\n\nClang! clang! ding dong dong! went the village bells. Swaying their\nhuge heads from side to side, and ringing golden bells upon their yoke,\nthe white oxen slowly drew Potpan and Ailinda down the village street.\n\nAnd now all at once there were cries and shouts of alarm. \u201cRun! run,\neverybody! Run! Run! The bird! Oh, see the bird!\u201d Soon one and all were\nscrambling here and there into houses, down cellars, under tables,\ninto clothes-closets and up trees till there was not a soul in sight.\nNever stopping to take thought of Ailinda, cowardly Potpan leaped from\nhis seat at her side, and ran and hid in a plum tree.\n\nAll, all alone stood the gay cart in the deserted street, all, all\nalone sat the deserted bride. The oxen came to a halt. A bell somewhere\non their harness jangled, and then the world was very still.\n\nNearer and nearer and lower and lower through the sky came the giant\nbird, flapping its shining wings. Suddenly its shadow fell across the\ncart. Ailinda sank in a swoon against the arch of flowers. But now the\ngreat bird settled to earth on its claws of red iron, and tall Aileel,\nleaping forth, gathered Ailinda in his strong arms, and waked her from\nher sleep. Closed now were the gates of unhappiness; open were the\ngates of joy.\n\n\u201cWhere is Potpan?\u201d said Aileel sternly. Ailinda, recovering from her\nswoon, made faint motions in the direction of the plum tree.\n\n[Illustration: _And now, all at once, there were cries and shouts of\nalarm. \u201cRun! Run, everybody! The bird! Oh, see the bird!\u201d_]\n\nAnd now Aileel disappeared for a little while, and all at once there\nwas a yell, a terrible splash, and a loud chorus of the most indignant\nsquawking and quacking. Aileel had tossed Potpan once more into the\nduck pond!\n\nThen Aileel came back, tall and handsome as could be, and lifted pretty\nAilinda to the seat in the iron bird. Then he got in himself, set the\nwings to flapping, and guided the iron bird into the air and home to\nthe wonderful Kingdom of Iron.\n\nAnd there, in the house of the Lord of the Royal Forge and amid great\nrejoicing, Aileel and Ailinda were wed. Good Braulio, I am glad to say,\nremained with them, and all three lived happily together all their\ndays.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WONDERFUL TUNE\n\n\nOnce upon a time, a young minstrel wandered over hill, over dale,\nthrough the world, earning his bread as he strayed by piping on a\npenny-pipe to all who cared for a tune. Young was he and little of\nstature, his eyes and his hair were brown, and in bright blue was he\nclad.\n\nNow it came to pass that, as he wandered through the world, the little\nminstrel said to himself one morn, \u201cIf some tunes make people merry,\nand others make them sad, whilst still others make them dance, why\nshould there not be a tune so wondrously pleasant and gay that all who\nchance to hear it must remain joyous of heart, and can never be sad\nor bad or unhappy again? Down the roads of the world I shall seek the\nwonderful tune.\u201d\n\nAnd, with this new thought in his mind, the little minstrel continued\non his way through the world, bidding good-morrow to all, questioning\nall. And some there were who thought him mad and were scarcely civil;\nothers pushed him aside as a jesting vagabond; and there were even\nthose who would have cast him into prison as a disturber of the public\nmind and a wandering rogue. But there were others, too, and these were\nthe brave and the merciful and the kind and the merry, who speeded him\non his way and wished him luck in his quest.\n\nThe summer ripened and came to an end; the crackled leaves tumbled and\nfled before a howling wind; snow covered the lonely fields; and still\nthe little minstrel roamed the world, seeking the wonderful tune.\n\nNow it fortuned that, as the little minstrel turned his steps to the\nwest, he arrived in the city of a king whose court musician was said to\nknow all the tunes in the world. Travel-worn, brown of face, and humbly\nclad as he was, the youth made his way through the palace and, cap in\nhand, knocked gently at the great musician\u2019s door.\n\nFrom behind the little green door, long runs and wiggles and cascades\nof tinkling notes came dancing out into the quiet of the deserted\nmarble corridor. The youth knocked yet again. Presently the notes\nceased, and, opening the door with a stately bow, the court musician\ninvited the young wanderer within.\n\nAnd now the youth found himself in a pleasant room, painted a fair\napple-green and set about with panels edged with gold; the furniture,\ntoo, was painted green and gold, and there were flowered curtains, a\ndozing cat, and a china bowl. As for the court musician, he was clad in\na superb costume of the most fashionable lavender brocade.\n\n\u201cHonored Master,\u201d said the little minstrel respectfully, \u201cI am roaming\nthe world for a tune so pleasant and merry that, once men have heard\nit, they can never be sad or bad or unhappy again. Pray do you know\nthis wonderful tune?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, indeed, I know many a wonderful tune,\u201d replied the court\nmusician. \u201cListen, now, was it this?\u201d And, seating himself at a gay\ngreen-and-gold harpsichord, the court musician played a merry song full\nof the most elegant tinkles and trills.\n\n\u201cNo, I am sure that is not the wonderful tune,\u201d said the little\nminstrel, looking through an open window at tiny clouds sailing the\nsunny sky of a mild midwinter day.\n\n\u201cThen surely this is it,\u201d said the court musician, playing a second\nmerry tune.\n\nBut the little minstrel shook his head once more.\n\n\u201cDear me, dear me! Not the wonderful tune?\u201d exclaimed the court\nmusician, wrinkling his brow and pursing his lips. \u201cAh! Wait! I think\nI have it!\u201d And this time he lifted the cover of the green-and-gold\nharpsichord so that the minstrel could see the little picture of\nfrolicking shepherds painted upon it, and played a long, harmonious,\nand majestical strain.\n\nBut the little minstrel shook his head again.\n\n\u201cMy young friend,\u201d said the court musician, with something of a\nfatherly air, closing the harpsichord as he spoke, \u201cI have played for\nyou the only three tunes I know which might be the wonderful tune. Are\nyou quite sure you are not wasting your life upon this quest? Perhaps\nsuch a tune as you tell of was once known in the world, and is only\nhidden away; yet again, perhaps it is all only a dream. You should go\nto the Kingdom of Music, and inquire.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Kingdom of Music,\u201d cried the youth. \u201cI\u2019ve never heard of such a\nrealm. Pray, sir, by what road does one go?\u201d\n\n\u201cCome!\u201d said the court musician, taking the youth by the arm and\nleading him to the open window. \u201cSee you that land of blue cloud-capped\nhills at the world\u2019s edge, and the broad and winding river which\ndisappears among them? You have but to follow that stream. Farewell,\nyoung friend, the world is before you, and may you find the wonderful\ntune!\u201d\n\nLeague after league and day after day, the little minstrel followed\nthe winding river, till spring stood upon the hills. And now, with the\nfirst sight of the new leaves, the little minstrel arrived in the land\nof melody. It was a goodly land, this Kingdom of Music--a rolling land\nof great fields, sweeping cloud-shadows, and ancient oaken groves: a\nland of pleasant murmurs and sweet sounds. Only birds with pretty songs\ndwelt in the Kingdom of Music, and they sang more sweetly there than in\nany other kingdom of the world; the very crickets had a more tuneful\nchirp, the river a more various music, and even the winds blew merry\ntunes as they whistled through the trees.\n\nRejoicing in the kingdom and its sounds, the little minstrel was\nstrolling along, half in a dream, when of a sudden sky and land were\nfilled with a strange, huge, earth-shaking sound, a sound of the\nscraping of thousands of fiddles; of the blowing of thousands of\nhorns, flutes, trumpets, trombones, and clarinets; of the clashing\nand clanging and thumping and bethumping of thousands of bass drums,\nkettle-drums, and cymbals; indeed, in all his wanderings the little\nminstrel had never heard such a din.\n\nThe King of the Kingdom of Music was rehearsing his orchestra.\n\nEvery single person in the kingdom, whether man, woman, or child, was\na member of this orchestra. Babies alone were excepted, though on one\noccasion the King had made use of a gifted child with a musical howl!\n\nNow, when the rehearsal had come to an end and quiet had returned to\nthe land, the little minstrel made his way to the royal city, obtained\nan audience with the King, and asked for news of the wonderful tune.\n\n\u201cThe wonderful tune,\u201d said the King from his throne, nodding gravely.\n\u201cYes, once there was even such a wonderful tune! In those days peace\nand plenty reigned in the world, and everyone was happy at his task\nbeneath the sun. One luckless eve, alas! the tune in some manner\nhappened to get broken up into notes; and before anyone could help it,\nthese notes were scattered and lost through all the kingdoms of the\nworld. Young man, I fear your search is in vain; never more shall the\nsons and daughters of men hear the wonderful tune.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut perhaps someone might gather the notes together again,\u201d said the\nlittle minstrel eagerly.\n\n\u201cMany have tried to do so,\u201d replied the King. \u201cOf those who fared away,\nsome returned weary in the days of their youth, others crept back in\nold age, and others yet were lost forevermore. And never a one returned\nwith a single note of the wonderful tune.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen is the time come for a new search,\u201d cried out the little minstrel\nbravely. \u201cFarewell, O King of the Kingdom of Music, for I must be off\ngathering the notes in the highways of the world.\u201d\n\n\u201cFarewell, good youth,\u201d answered the King. \u201cReturn to us when your\nquest is ended; and may you come piping the wonderful tune.\u201d\n\nAnd now the little minstrel found himself on the roads of the world\nagain, strolling from the first chill gold-and-gray of laggard dawns to\nthe twilight world of meadows in the gathering dark and village bells\nsounding faintly afar.\n\nSeven long years rolled over the world; the little minstrel searched\ndiligently and far and wide, yet never a trace could he find of a\nsingle note of the wonderful tune. His blue coat, which had been so\ngay, was now sadly tattered and torn; even his penny-pipe had a dent in\nit, and his shoes, alas! were scarce worth the putting-on in the morn.\n\nNow it came to pass, on a day in the early winter, that the little\nminstrel arrived in a northern land and followed a woodland road\nthrough the silence and the cold. The sky was overcast with a wide tent\nof dull gray cloud, through which a sun swam, cold as a moon; and the\nwhole world was very still--so still indeed that the only sound the\nlittle minstrel could hear was the scattering of the leaves beneath his\nfeet. Twilight came, and found the little minstrel far from a house or\nvillage; a cold wind arose, and presently a thick snow began to fall.\nAnd now the night and the snow closed in upon the wanderer. Huddled\nin his ragged cloak, the little minstrel trudged bravely on into the\nwhirling storm; but little by little the cold crept into his body and\nbones, a weariness and a hunger for sleep overcame him, and suddenly he\nsank unknowing in the brambles by the road.\n\nWhen he opened his eyes again, a great open fire was burning before\nhim on a huge hearth; a blue mug of steaming milk lay waiting at one\nside; and over him there bent anxiously two kindly young folk--a sturdy\ncountry-lad in a green smock, and a pretty lass in a dress of homespun\nbrown. These twain were a young husband and wife who lived in a little\nhouse in the wood, loving each other dearly, working contentedly\nat their daily tasks, and dealing hospitably and generously with\nall. Returning through the storm from a distant sheepfold, the young\ncountryman had found the little minstrel lying in the snow and had\ncarried him on his shoulders to the shelter of his home.\n\nAfter a few days had passed, and the little minstrel felt quite himself\nagain, he told his generous friends of his search for the notes of the\nwonderful tune. It was at night that he told of his quest; the supper\nhad been cleared away, the house was still, and the little minstrel and\nhis hosts were gathered by the fire.\n\n\u201cA note of the wonderful tune--bless me, but I think we have one in\nthis house!\u201d exclaimed the young wife. And she went to the mantel and\nfished about in an ancient brown bowl standing in the gloom. \u201cYes, here\nit is, sure enough--a note of the wonderful tune!\u201d\n\nAnd thus did it come to pass that the little minstrel obtained the\nfirst note of the wonderful tune; for the young husband and wife were\nquick to make a gift of it to their guest.\n\nBut now you must hear how he found all the notes save the last.\n\nThe second note the little minstrel discovered on a glorious midsummer\nday. It had lain in an old bird\u2019s-nest in the heart of a great tree,\nand a chance breeze tumbled nest and note together at the minstrel\u2019s\nfeet.\n\nThe third note had been hidden away amid the books of a famous scholar\nwho lived all alone in an ancient tower, gathering the wisdom of the\nworld.\n\nThe fourth note was given the minstrel by a little child whose toy it\nwas.\n\nThe fifth note was turned up out of the earth, on a spring morning, by\na whistling ploughman who saw the minstrel passing by and called to him\nto come and see the strange thing he had found.\n\nThe sixth note the minstrel had of a weaver, who labored in his own\nhouse at his own loom and upon it wove fair and beautiful things.\n\nThe seventh note a great nobleman possessed; he dwelt in his castle\nfree of little fears and mean rivalries; and truth and courage and\nhonor were his squires.\n\nThe eighth note the minstrel had of a young sailor, who chanced to\ndiscover it in an old ship that sailed the seas.\n\nOf the ninth and last note, however, there was still no sign; so the\nlittle minstrel put the eight others into his pocket that had no hole\nin it, and turned again to his quest. And presently he walked over a\nhill into the Kingdom of the Blue Lakes, where reigned the Lady Amoret.\n\nNow the Kingdom of the Blue Lakes was quite the fairest of all the\nkingdoms of the world, and Amoret the fairest Queen. Her palace stood\non an open hill by her kingdom\u2019s eastern bound; of golden-white marble\nwas it made, and from its terrace one looked westward to distant\nmountains over a woodland bright with lakes. All day long there a gay\ncourt of lords and ladies in silks and fine array held festival; the\nmusic of lutes and violins was ever to be heard; and scarce an hour\nthere was but had its pleasure, and scarce a pleasure but had its hour.\n\nClad in a queen\u2019s robe of scarlet and cloth of gold, and seated in a\njeweled throne raised upon the terrace, the Lady Amoret received the\nragged pilgrim of the tune.\n\n\u201cThe last note of the wonderful tune?\u201d said the Lady Amoret. \u201cSeek no\nmore; it is here. Beyond the palace domain, by a lake in the depths of\nthe wildwood, my court fool has built for himself a bower, and upon its\nwall hangs the last note of the wonderful tune. Tarry with us a while,\nand you shall have it. I promise you.\u201d\n\n\u201cMay I not go this very instant and find it, Your Majesty?\u201d asked the\nlittle minstrel anxiously. \u201cLong have I roamed the world in search of\nit, and I need it so for the tune!\u201d\n\n\u201cNay, tarry a while,\u201d answered the Queen, unyielding; \u201cfor even were\nI to bid you go, you would never find the bower, so cunningly is it\nhidden in the wood. You have wandered long and afar, good friend; tarry\nnow a while from your quest. My kingdom is the fairest in the world,\nand you shall have all you desire.\u201d\n\nAnd Amoret gave a command that new apparel of the fairest blue cloth be\nprepared for the little minstrel and that a place be set for him at the\nroyal board.\n\nNow it came to pass that, as the Lady Amoret and her court beheld how\nbrave a youth the little minstrel appeared in his new apparel, and\nhearkened to the thousand wonderful tales he had to tell of his quest,\nthey found him the best company in the world and determined to hold him\nin the realm. To this end, therefore, they strove to drown the memory\nof his quest in a tide of gayest merriments; but, in spite of feasts\nand festivals, the little minstrel never once forgot the last note of\nthe wonderful tune.\n\nTry as he might, the little minstrel could never find the note. Again\nand again he had tried to make his way to the fool\u2019s bower, only to\nlose himself in the tangled paths of the wildwood; again and again he\nhad questioned the court fool, only to be met with a mocking courtesy,\na finger to the lips, and a jesting wink of the eye. One day he even\nventured to remind the Lady Amoret of her promise, but she only laughed\nat him for his impatience and swept him off in her golden boat to a\npageant on the lakes.\n\nNow it happened on the following morning that the Lady Amoret, taking\ncounsel with her court, determined to destroy the note, lest the\nminstrel should discover it, and go. Summoning the captain of the\npalace guard before her, she said to him:--\n\n\u201cGo to-night to the bower of the court fool; take the last note of the\nwonderful tune, and fling it into the depths of the lake.\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd now it was night, and the lords and ladies of the court, strolling\nforth from dinner, walked through the palace to the terrace of the\nwest. A storm was gathering afar, an approaching thunder growled, and\nlightning, flashing in the sky, was mirrored in the waters of the\nlakes. Presently there came wind and a patter of rain, and soldiers of\nthe palace guard entered to close the windows and the doors.\n\nThe little minstrel stood apart by a great window, gazing forth into\nthe darkness and the storm. His fine new clothes weighed like lead upon\nhis shoulders; his jeweled neckcloth scarce left him free to breathe;\nand with all his heart he longed for his rags, his liberty, and the\ncool rain on his eyes.\n\nBut the last note--he could not leave that behind. Suddenly he heard\none soldier say to another:--\n\n\u201cOur companions will be caught in the storm; they have ridden forth\nwith the captain to the fool\u2019s bower, to destroy the last note of the\nwonderful tune.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, the note, the note, my note! Oh, what shall I do?\u201d cried the\nminstrel, his heart sinking into depths of despair. \u201cEven now it may\nbe lost to the world--this time forever! I must find the court fool;\nhe shall tell me where the bower lies!\u201d And he looked about in the\nsplendid throng for the fantastic motley of the fool; but he saw only\nmany in rich garments, and the gleam of jewels reflecting many lights.\n\nSuddenly he chanced to recall that the court fool dwelt in the garret\nof the palace, so up great and little stairs he fled to the fool\u2019s\nchamber in the eaves. The rain was now falling in torrents on the roof\nclose overhead, and all at once a terrible peal of thunder shook the\npalace to its depths. Never pausing to knock, the little minstrel burst\nin at the door.\n\nCandles were burning within the humble chamber, lightning flared at an\noval window, and the court fool stood in the centre of the floor, still\nin his motley clad.\n\n\u201cMy friend,\u201d said the court fool, with a low bow and a mocking smile,\n\u201callow me to present you with the last note of the wonderful tune.\u201d\nAnd with those words he handed the note to the very much astonished\nyouth.\n\n\u201cI feared lest mishap destroy it,\u201d continued the court fool, \u201cso\nyestereve I took it from my bower. You see, I believe in the wonderful\ntune; and without my note, this last note, your tune would scarce be\nworth the playing. And now, your hand, little minstrel, for you must\nhurry away at once through the wind and rain.\u201d\n\nSo the minstrel pressed the hand of the court fool and, hastening down\na tiny corner staircase, went forth into the storm. And as he fled, he\ncried aloud to the thunder and the rain and the wild wind:--\n\n\u201cThe wonderful tune, the wonderful tune! I have it, I have it--the\nwonderful tune!\u201d\n\nAnd now the storm wore itself away, the summer stars shone forth in the\nclearest of blue skies, and the only sound to be heard was the rain\ndrip-dripping from the trees. Drenched to the skin, but with a fire of\njoy in his heart, the minstrel hurried through the night toward the\nKingdom of Music far away.\n\nWhen he arrived there, on a summer\u2019s morning, he found the people of\nthe palace assembled in the hall of state, and the King upon his throne.\n\n\u201cI have it, Your Majesty!\u201d cried out the little minstrel breathlessly;\n\u201cI have it, every note; here is the wonderful tune!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat! The wonderful tune?\u201d cried the King, leaping to his\nfeet. \u201cQuick, somebody, ring all the bells, send trumpeters\nthrough the streets, assemble the orchestra, and call hither the\nViolinist-in-Chief, the Lord Organist, and the Grand Harper. We shall\nplay it over at once!\u201d\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\n\u201cH-m,\u201d said the Violinist-in-Chief, after he had put on his\nhuge spectacles and studied the wonderful tune, \u201cDon\u2019t you feel\nthat those last bars ought to be played very fast, like this:\ntum-diddy-tum--tum-diddy-tum--tum-diddy-tum--diddy-dum-dum-dum?\u201d\n\n[Illustration: _\u201cNo, I do not agree with you,\u201d shouted the Lord\nOrganist_]\n\n\u201cNo, I do _not_ agree with you,\u201d replied the Lord Organist, a huge\npersonage with a majestic air and a bad temper. \u201cThose bars should\nbe played slowly,\u201d here he waved a large, solemn finger, \u201clike this:\ntum--tum--tum--tum--tum--tum--tum--tum--tum!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are both entirely wrong,\u201d interrupted the Grand Harper, a\nshort contradictory fellow with long arms and long fingers. \u201cTo\nmy way of thinking the entire tune should be played throughout\nin the same time, in this fashion; listen to my tapping now:\nda-da--dee-dee--da-da--dee-dee--da-da--dee-do-dum.\u201d\n\n\u201cImpossible! Absurd! No, never!\u201d cried the Lord Organist and the\nViolinist-in-Chief in one long indignant breath. \u201cWe appeal to the\nKing!\u201d\n\nBut the King had ideas of his own on the matter.\n\nAnd thus it was that the musicians all took to quarreling as to how the\nwonderful tune should be played, and are quarreling still.\n\nBut some day they will make up their minds as to how it should go; the\nlittle minstrel will leave the Kingdom of Music and come through the\nworld piping the tune; and then, oh, then, what times there will be!\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAN OF THE WILDWOOD\n\n\nOnce upon a time, on a summer\u2019s morning after a night\u2019s rain, a country\nsquire\u2019s son stood within an arched doorway of his father\u2019s house,\ngazing upon the hedgerows and the fields. The sun was shining after the\nstorm, a high wind was shaking the trees, scurrying gusts fled through\nthe nodding grass, and silvery white clouds sailed the arching sky. And\nbeholding the bright morning and the rain-washed land, a great longing\ncame into the heart of the squire\u2019s son to follow the clouds over hill,\nover dale, and to see the world. Presently, with his parents\u2019 blessing\nlocked in his heart\u2019s treasury and a purse of gold in his pocket, he\nleaped to the saddle of his dappled steed, waved his plumed hat, and\ngalloped away.\n\nLong he rode and afar, and presently he found himself in the heart of\nthe deepest and darkest wildwood that was ever to be seen. Before\nhim, behind him, around him all about, were the trunks of numberless\ntrees--trees so tall that they hid the sky, and made of it but patches\nof cloudy white or speckles of blue; trees--broad trees, slender trees,\ntrees that were like men-at-arms, trees that were shy and aloof as\nmaids, trees that were silent, trees that rustled, everywhere trees.\nAnd deep was the wildwood silence and unbroken save for the soft pad of\nthe horse\u2019s hoofs and the rare song of a hidden bird.\n\nAt the close of his third day, the squire\u2019s son found himself at the\ngates of a noble city built of cedar-green glass on an open hill in the\nheart of the wildwood.\n\nNow as it was late in the day when the youth arrived at the city, it\ncame to pass that he went to an inn for supper and the night. The\nmistress of the tavern, I must tell you, was a lonely orphan maiden\nnamed Miranda. Surely there was never a fairer or a kinder little\nmaid! Beneath her ancient roof the humble wayfarer met with as\nfriendly a greeting as his richer fellow, and with her own hands she\ngave bread and milk to the unfortunate and poor.\n\nNow it chanced that the youth had been given a chamber overlooking\nthe court of the inn, and presently he heard from below a confused\ndin of voices, laughter, and jeers. In wonder as to what the cause of\nthe hubbub might be, the squire\u2019s son drew open his latticed window\nand looked down. A great green cage on wheels was to be seen there,\nsurrounded by a throng of curious onlookers who poked fingers at\nsomething within it, shrieked catcalls, whistled, and laughed to split\ntheir sides.\n\nThe youth descended to the court, and made his way into the throng.\n\nWithin the cage, clad in a gray wolf\u2019s skin, sat a creature like unto a\nman. Strong of body was he, and beautiful to behold. His eyes were blue\nand they were the eyes of a wild thing, and the long hair which fell\nabout his neck was of the strangest tawny gold. Aware of the stir made\nby a newcomer, the prisoner turned, and fixed the youth with a glance\nin which lay pride mingled with despair.\n\nPresently the proprietor of the cage, who had been baiting his horse at\nthe stables of the inn, returned and lowered curtains about the cage\nand the prisoner. Fearful lest they be summoned to pay the showman his\npenny, the onlookers took to their heels, and soon the youth found\nhimself alone in the courtyard.\n\nNow this prisoner, I must tell you, was known as the Man of the\nWildwood, for some hunters had found him in a net which they had spread\nin the wildwood a year before. To some an animal-like man, to others\na man-like animal, the Man of the Wildwood remained a mystery in the\nland. As for the prisoner, never a word said he, and none knew whether\nhe would not or could not talk.\n\nSecurely locked in his cage, the Man of the Wildwood was shown to all\nat a penny a head.\n\nAnd now, as the youth mused alone in the silence, the maid Miranda came\nforth to light the great lantern in the court. A white apron she wore,\na great white cap, and there were red ribbons on her gown. The squire\u2019s\nson thought he never beheld a maid so fair.\n\nCatching sight of the squire\u2019s son, standing idly by, Miranda said to\nhim, \u201cPray, good sir, what may there be in yon cage?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Man of the Wildwood,\u201d replied the youth. And he told Miranda what\nhe had overheard amid the throng.\n\n\u201cAlas, poor creature,\u201d said the gentle maiden, \u201chow bitter must be such\na cage to one who has known the freedom of the wildwood! I surely must\nbring him some honey and bread!\u201d\n\nAnd away she sped to the larder of the inn to fetch the good cheer.\nThe twilight deepened. When Miranda returned again, the youth and the\nmaid walked to the green cage and offered the gift to the Man of the\nWildwood.\n\nFor a little space the prisoner, crouched in a dark corner of the\ncage, made neither sign nor sound. Then slowly, very slowly, he\napproached the gift of the kind maiden and ate of it hungrily. And\nbecause he had met with so little pity and compassion, the Man of the\nWildwood was moved to his heart\u2019s deep, and gazed upon the young folk\nwith strange eyes.\n\nAll evening long the squire\u2019s son mused on the Man of the Wildwood.\nSuddenly a great pity possessed him, and going to the showman, he\npurchased the prisoner for fifty golden crowns.\n\nAnd now it was midnight; and the green cage, drawn by the showman\u2019s\nhorse, rolled down a deserted road to the edge of the wildwood. A moon\nalmost at the full sailed the high heavens, now vanishing under thin,\nblack clouds, now floating forth through silvery rifts and isles. Side\nby side, saying little to each other, sat the showman and the youth.\n\nSuddenly a high wall of rustling darkness loomed before them at the\nverge of a moonlit field; the cage had reached the gate of the forest.\nWith a key given him by the showman--who was a little afraid--the\nsquire\u2019s son unlocked the cage, and freed the Man of the Wildwood. And\neven as he did so, a summer breeze went singing through the wildwood\nwith a great cry of joy.\n\nFree at last, the Man of the Wildwood said naught, but lifted his head\nto the stars. Then raising his right arm high above his head, he made\na stately sign of salutation to the youth, and walked like a king into\nthe darkness of the trees.\n\nThe next morning the youth rose early and set forth once more upon his\ntravels. Cities he saw, and nations, and kingdoms, but no one in them\nwhom he thought fairer than Miranda. As for Miranda, scarce had the\nsquire\u2019s son ridden away, than she began to hope for his return.\n\nLittle by little the tide of summer rose to its full, and ebbing, left\nthe gifts of golden autumn in the fields.\n\nBut now you must hear of the three merchants, the moonstone, and the\nmisfortunes of Miranda.\n\nIt was a harvest eve, and presently Miranda, watching by the tavern\ndoor, beheld three men habited as merchants making their way along the\ncity street to the inn. Somewhat to her surprise, they came afoot. Two\nof these merchants, I must tell you, were tall and lean, whilst the\nthird was short and fat and had green eyes. Unwilling to refuse, yet\nsomewhat against her better judgment, Miranda granted the request of\nthese merchants for lodgment at the inn.\n\nNow these three merchants, alas, were not merchants at all but three\nfamous thieves, who had come to the city to steal a certain celebrated\ngem belonging to the king. This gem was a moonstone--a moonstone of\nsuch rare loveliness that men fabled that it had tumbled to earth from\nthe moon, and been found in a forest glade at the end of a ray of\nsummer moonshine. In all the world nothing there was more fair.\n\nAnd now it was another midnight, and the three thieves, quitting\ntheir rooms in the inn, stole as quietly as three cats down the\noaken stairway to the empty street. Unknown to them, however,\nMiranda--wakened by their whispers--followed close behind, now\nretreating into shadowy doorways, now leaning against a wall lest she\nbe seen.\n\nPresently the rogues approached the huge darkened mass of the palace,\nand made their way into the grounds through the dreaming gardens. A\nlittle fountain splashed somewhere in the night. The moon had set, and\na thin layer of cloud dimmed the wheeling stars.\n\nChuckling softly at their success in having thus far eluded the palace\nwatch, the thieves now pressed open a little window and crawled into\nthe tower of jewels. Hurrying as fast as ever she could, Miranda ran to\nwake the yeomen of the guard.\n\nSuddenly there was a great outcry, a light appeared in a window, there\nwere shouts and a clash of arms, and the thieves came tumbling out of\nthe window with the moonstone and vanished, all three, into the starry\ndark. A moment later flaming torches moved amid the trees, a throng\nof men-at-arms poured into the gardens, and Miranda found herself a\nprisoner.\n\nAccused of having harbored the thieves and of having had a hand in the\nrobbery, the maiden of the inn was the next morning brought to trial.\nShaken to the heart, yet protesting her innocence to the last, the poor\nmaiden made but a confused defense, and presently was condemned to\nsuffer the sternest judgment of the law.\n\nWhen this was pronounced, however, the friends and neighbors who loved\nMiranda made such a tumult in the court that the judgment was altered,\nand Miranda was sentenced to be carried in the gaoler\u2019s cart into the\nvery depths of the great wildwood, and there abandoned to live or\nperish as she might.\n\nAnd now it was twilight, a golden harvest twilight; and Miranda,\nstanding with her hands tied behind her by the wrists and her head\nbowed low, was drawn in a two-wheeled cart through the darkening\nstreets of the glass city, and carried far out into the pathless\nregions of the wildwood. Once there, the gaoler--who pitied her--loosed\nher from her bonds, gave her a crust of prison bread, and drove away.\nFainter and fainter grew the noise of the homeward-faring cart.\n\nThe night was moonless, the stars were bright, and a wild wind from\nsome far waste of the world was roaring through the trees, now dying\naway to a faint and vagrant murmur, now rising to a great wailing\nrustling cry that arose and broke and ebbed like a wave of the sea. And\nthe swaying branches tossed their clots of darkness against the stars,\nwhilst underfoot so dark it lay that naught was to be seen.\n\nFor some moments the unhappy maiden, trembling with dread, stood\nmotionless in the dark of the wildwood. Strange sounds drifted to her\nears--the moan of rival branches, the laughter of running water, and\nthe far cry of some hunter of the night. Suddenly she felt herself grow\nicy cold, and her eyes closing, she sank to the earth and knew no more.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMeanwhile, that very eve, in the distant city, the squire\u2019s son was\nriding joyously to the inn. Presently he reached his long-awaited goal,\nand to his great surprise found the windows darkened and the doorway\nsealed and barred. Seeing him thus wandering about, a neighboring\ngoodwife came forth from her dwelling, and told him, with tears in her\neyes, the cruel fate of the good Miranda.\n\n\u201cOh, wicked judgment!\u201d cried the youth. \u201cQuick--tell me whither in the\nwildwood have they taken her; for I must find her, come what may!\u201d\n\n\u201cAlas, who can say?\u201d replied the goodwife. \u201cAll that I can tell thee\nis that the cart vanished through the eastern gate, adown the eastern\nway.\u201d\n\nAnd now the youth cried to his dappled steed to press on as he had\nnever done before, and galloped through the night to the wildwood.\nDarker it grew and darker still.\n\nArriving at length in a little clearing, the squire\u2019s son bade his\nhorse stand halted, and plunged into the wildwood, loudly calling and\nhallooing for the lost maiden. On and on through briery thicket and\nstony mire he blundered forward in the gloom. Suddenly an unseen ravine\nopened beneath him; his feet trod forward into nothingness; his hands\ncaught at the air; and with a cry, he fell. And now as he lay there\nstunned, strong arms caught him gently up and carried him away.\n\nWhen he woke to life again, he found himself lying on a bed of skins\npiled near a fire on a cavern floor. By his side, the torment of\nhis human prison fallen from him like an evil garment, noble and\nbeautiful and strong, stood the Man of the Wildwood.\n\n[Illustration: _Before him stood the Man of the Wildwood_]\n\nLifting himself up and turning toward his rescuer, the youth poured\nforth his story and sought the eyes of the Man of the Wildwood for a\ntoken that he had understood. For a moment, however, the Man of the\nWildwood made no sign. Then, of a sudden, with a gesture at once gentle\nand commanding, he touched the youth by the hand, and going to the cave\nmouth, opened his arms to the dark wildwood, and called upon it in its\nsecret speech.\n\nAnd he bade the things of the wild--the brethren who go afoot, the\nkindred of the air, and the humble folk who crawl upon the earth--to\ngo forth through the wildwood and find the maiden and guard her well.\nAnd he called upon them, too, to follow the thieves, and make them\nprisoners of the wood.\n\nAnd now a great murmur, even such a sound as heralds the coming of a\nmighty rain, swept through the wood. Forth from their dens creeping\ncame the bears, the gray wolves, and the little foxes; the shy deer\nstarted in their glens; the birds awakened with a flutter in their\nnests and took wing into the starry dark; the little wood-mice came\ntumbling out of their warm beds; and even the spotted snakes went forth\nto seek. Almost in less time than it takes to tell of it, the earth and\nthe air seemed full of the people of the wild, questing here and there\nin search of the maid.\n\nThere passed a little time, and suddenly a great brown owl, half\nblinded by the firelight, swooped down to the arch of the cave-mouth\nwith the news that he had found the maiden asleep beneath a sheltering\npine; and a moment later a nimble gray hare with upstanding ears came\nhopping in with the tidings that the thieves had been taken on a\nwildwood road.\n\nNow this news was quite enough to cure the squire\u2019s son of his fall,\nso jumping to his feet, he followed the staring owl and the Man of the\nWildwood to the refuge of Miranda.\n\nYou may be sure that Miranda rejoiced to see the squire\u2019s son! As for\nthe thieves, they came upon them standing terror-stricken, huddled\ntogether in the heart of a wide circle of watching, silent, flame-eyed\nanimals. Creepers and vines had seized upon them as they fled, and\nbound their arms behind with leafy fetters.\n\nSuddenly a friendly whinny was heard, and the dappled steed, guided by\na benevolent badger, came trotting through the wildwood to its master.\nTo lift Miranda to the saddle was but a moment\u2019s task. The three\nthieves walking ahead, Miranda riding, and the youth and the Man of the\nWildwood following behind, even thus went the little company through\nthe forest dark to the edge of the wildwood.\n\nMorning was at hand; only the brighter stars were left in the wide and\ncloudless sky; presently the dawn broke over the green horizon of the\ntrees.\n\nArriving at the bound of the forest, the Man of the Wildwood lifted his\narm once more in token of farewell, and with his animals clustered\nabout him, watched his friends till they vanished down the road.\n\nPresently the domes and towers of the city of glass rose before the\nlittle company. A swirling autumn mist lay over the fields between the\nwildwood and the city walls, the sky was rosy overhead, and hundreds of\nlittle bells were ringing.\n\nPausing at the eastern gate, the squire\u2019s son delivered the thieves to\nthe yeomen of the guard.\n\nOn the following morning the three rogues, brought to trial, declared\nthe innocence of Miranda, confessed their wickedness, and restored\nthe moonstone. A stern sentence was justly theirs; but so pleased was\nthe king at the return of his jewel that he merely condemned them to\nroad-mending for a number of years. To Miranda the king gave a rich\nreward, to the squire\u2019s son, a fair house whose windows looked forth on\nthe treetops of the wildwood.\n\nAnd thus it came to pass that the squire\u2019s son married the good\nMiranda, and lived happily with his dear wife and little ones many a\nlong and pleasant year.\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAIDEN OF THE MOUNTAIN\n\n\nOnce upon a time, in a noble realm to the west of the Golden Plain,\nthere towered to the sky a solitary height of such majesty and grave\nbeauty that the realm became known through the world as the Kingdom of\nthe Mountain. Mighty, snow-capped, and serene it rose beyond the little\nwoods and willow-bordered streams.\n\nNow it came to pass that a king ruled in the land who had been left\nwith two little motherless children, the Prince Ariel and the Princess\nLeoline. The Princess was the elder of the two and, though only three\nyears old, considered herself quite a grown-up personage; as for the\nlittle Prince, he was but a child in arms. From a window of their\nchamber in a tower-top, the children were wont to look forth over the\nland to the mountain rising afar, now blazing white and bright in the\nclear midwinter air, now half concealed in summer\u2019s hazy veil.\n\nAnd now, with the suddenness of a tempest shattering the quiet of the\nnight, a wicked nobleman, Babylan by name, rose against the good King\nand challenged him to do battle for his throne.\n\nNow it chanced that the wise old nurse to whom the King had entrusted\nthe Princess Leoline had for some time feared that all was not well\nwith her master\u2019s cause, so on the day of battle she climbed to a\nhigh tower-top to see what she could see. Already from afar, through\nthe dull still morning, could be heard the sullen tumult of the fray.\nCloser and closer advancing, hour by hour louder and louder growing,\nthe tide of battle approached the very gates of the stronghold.\n\nSuddenly, enveloped in a cloud of dust, the first stragglers from the\nKing\u2019s defeated army burst from a little wood and came hastening down\nthe road toward the castle. Knowing only too well that all was lost\nand that the troops of Babylan would be soon battering at the gate, the\ngood nurse caught up Leoline and hurried down the curving stair to warn\nthe guardians of Ariel.\n\nNeither Prince nor guardian, however, could she find. The castle was\nalready in confusion, people were running hither and thither, an alarm\nbell was wildly clanging, and in the soldiers\u2019 court a runaway was\ngasping out his story to a handful of frightened listeners. Well aware\nthat her first duty must be the safety of the little Princess sleeping\non her shoulder, the old nurse abandoned the search for Ariel and fled\nfrom the castle with her charge. And because she had been born in a\nvillage of the mountain and knew the region to be inaccessible and\nwild, the brave nurse turned her steps toward the height.\n\nAll night long, down lonely lane and royal highway, by woodland path\nand river road the brave woman hurried through the dark war-shaken\nland. The voice of great waters, roaring in the night under turreted\nbridges, beat upon her ears as she fled; messengers galloped by,\nspurring fast; and here and there a signal beacon flamed afar on some\nhigh crest. But presently the swarming stars grew pale, and streaks of\nday appeared in the east.\n\nPausing at a lonely farm at the end of the lowland way, the nurse\nbegged a crock of milk and a morsel of bread for herself and Leoline.\n\nTo the east, beyond the hills, rose the great snowy summit of the\nmountain, outlined against a clear green sky of dawn.\n\nAnd now the pleasant fields gave way to rocky wind-swept pastures,\nlying at the foot of a road winding and climbing along a great ridge\nof the mountain to a tiny village at a valley\u2019s height. To the right\nof this road, towering steeps of rock soared to a wild, snow-mantled\ncrest; to the left, the mountain side fell away, a terrible precipice,\nto a torrent all afoam. Up this road fled the old nurse, half\ncarrying, half dragging the weary and bewildered Leoline.\n\nWhen they arrived at the journey\u2019s end, the day was at its close, the\nair was hushed, and the wide chasm of the valley lay dark with mist\nand gloom. The sun had set upon the huddled roofs of the village; but,\ntowering into the upper air, the ruling summit still beheld the western\nlight and reflected a rosy splendor in its snows.\n\nOnce safe in the village, the old nurse took refuge in a cottage\nbelonging to her sister, a widow woman who kept a flock of sheep.\nFearful lest the cruel Babylan in some manner become aware of the\nPrincess and her refuge, the good woman wisely determined to keep\nsecret the true history of her little guest. In time even Leoline\nherself forgot all about the palace.\n\nThus did it come to pass that Leoline the Princess became Leoline the\nMaiden of the Mountain.\n\nAs for the Prince Ariel, his fate remained a mystery. Some said the\npoor little Prince had perished in a sort of prison, some whispered\nthat the wicked new King had caused him to be abandoned in the\nwildwood. But, whatever the truth may have been, no one at the palace\nsaw him or heard from him any more.\n\nAnd now passed many years. Safe within her refuge in the mountain, the\nPrincess Leoline grew from a rosy-cheeked mountain child to a tall,\nblue-eyed, golden-haired shepherdess. Far and wide through the villages\nof the height ran tales of her stout-heartedness and great daring,\nher gentleness and courtesy as well. Again and again, in quest of a\nstrayaway or seeking some rare flower of the snows, she had made her\nway to heights to which none had ever dared aspire. Indeed, so fearless\nwas the royal shepherdess that presently a poor woman to whom she had\nbrought an armful of snow violets cried out to her that she must surely\nbe under the protection of the Giant of the Mountain!\n\n\u201cThe Giant of the Mountain,\u201d asked Leoline, \u201cwho is he? Pray tell me,\nfor I have never before heard of him.\u201d\n\nAnd she turned her head to gaze wonderingly on the wild crest of the\nmountain half hidden in the morning mist.\n\n\u201cThe Giant of the Mountain is the ruler of the height,\u201d replied the\nvillage goodwife. \u201cAt least so men say, though never in my lifetime\nhave men beheld him. Perhaps he has hidden himself away from mortals.\nBut long ago, Maiden Leoline, in the days of the grandsires, men who\nclimbed beyond the torrents sometimes heard a great voice speaking\nsolemn as thunder in the hills.\u201d\n\n\u201cWould that I might behold him!\u201d cried Leoline. And with wonder in her\nheart she returned to the daily task of watching her sheep. Clad in a\npretty dress of rustic brown and wearing a kirtle of apple green, the\nroyal shepherdess was very fair to see.\n\nNow it came to pass on the afternoon of that very day that, as Leoline\nwas driving her flock home to its fold, she heard the sound of weeping,\nand presently she overtook a little sister-shepherdess in tears.\nCatching the child to her, Leoline endeavored to comfort her and asked\nher why she wept.\n\n\u201cAlas! Maiden Leoline,\u201d replied the ragged little shepherdess, \u201cI weep\nbecause the white lamb which my father bade me guard has strayed away\nand is nowhere to be found. Oh, what shall I do, what shall I do?\u201d\n\nAnd the little shepherdess wept afresh, while her halted flock lowered\ntheir silly heads and bleated mournfully.\n\n\u201cA white lamb?\u201d said Leoline. \u201cCome, take heart; he cannot be far away.\nWe shall find him, I am sure, for the sun is still high above the west,\nand the day is far from spent. Do you but remain here and guard your\nflock and mine, while I go to search the pasture by the snows.\u201d And\nwith these words the kind maiden turned her face to the height.\n\nThrough upland pasture and rocky dell fared Leoline, scanning the\nwaving flower-strewn grass for the lost white lamb, and listening for a\nforlorn crying; but of the lamb she had neither sight nor sound. Little\nby little the afternoon drew to a close. Presently a chill of cold and\ndark crept into the air as the sun vanished behind a great mass of\nsombre cloud.\n\nFinding a mountain torrent near at hand, Leoline followed the edge of\nthe roaring stream toward the wild steeps of the mountain.\n\nThe sky was now but one vast and seemingly motionless sea of cloud.\nBeneath this cloudy tent, however, floating strangely and swiftly by,\nfled steamy wisps and fragments of shapeless mist, and ever and anon\none of these fugitives enveloped Leoline in its chilly veil. Bravely\nmaking her way along a path every step more dangerous growing, the\nmaiden at length attained the last sweep of open land. Strewn with\nlovely flowers was the field; and two strange crags, which Leoline had\nnever seen before, rose from its further bound.\n\nNow as Leoline gazed upon the two crags, the level floor of rock lifted\nhigh between them, and the pinnacled wall of cliff rising behind, she\nbeheld that they formed together a marvelous great throne, of which\nthe two crags were the carven arms and the cliff-wall the sculptured\nback--a throne for a giant being mighty as the mountain: a being whose\nfeet were of the earth and whose body rose to the clouds and the\nmarshaled stars. And this chair stood exalted high, strange and noble\nand dark, now outlined against the sullen clouds, now caught up and\nhidden in their depths.\n\nPresently the unseen sun sank below the crest of the mountain and a\nwild dark fell. The clouds rolled about the craggy throne.\n\n[Illustration: _For a long moment Leoline, awed yet unafraid, gazed at\nthe Giant of the Mountain_]\n\nAnd now, of a sudden, a great roaring wind arose which swept the\nmountain-top with a sound of noble music; the cloud veil broke asunder\nand rolled away; a rich and sudden light poured down upon the field;\nand Leoline beheld the great throne uplifted high against the sunset\u2019s\nflare. And within the throne, mantled in a robe that might of cloud\nhave been spun, sat a giant being. The western light was about his\nhead, his hands rested on the crags, and there was mystery in his eyes.\n\nFor a long moment Leoline, awed yet unafraid, gazed at the Giant of\nthe Mountain. Then came a sound like unto a far trumpet-clang, the\nwinds were again unleashed, the clouds once more gathered together, and\nthrone and Giant vanished in the mountain gloom.\n\nAll at once Leoline heard a pitiful cry and, looking down, beheld the\nlost lamb at her feet. Whence could it have come? It was nowhere to be\nseen a moment before.\n\nLifting the lamb gently up, Leoline carried it through the twilight to\nthe little shepherdess.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAnd now a year and half a year again passed, and presently disorder\nreigned once more within the realm. Weary of Babylan and his\ntyrannies, the people of the land were gathering from far and wide\nto drive him from his throne. Surely there was never a worse King!\nDid he demand gold from some unhappy village, gold would he have, or\nelse the villagers would see their houses in flames and their lowing\ncattle being harried to the royal barns; his prisons were full of\ninnocent folk whose possessions he coveted or against whom he had\ntaken a grudge; no longer in the land was to be found that friendly\nspirit and good cheer which had reigned there in the time of Leoline\u2019s\nunhappy father. But, though the anger of Babylan was the anger of the\nthunderstroke, there is an end to all patience; and presently the land\nrose against the King.\n\nThe leader of the people in this strife was a young forester of humble\nbirth, named Norbert. This daring youth, I must tell you, had once been\nimprisoned by Babylan for saving a poor family from his oppression, but\nhad succeeded in escaping to the mountain. Courteous, generous, and\nbrave as a lion, the young Captain was the idol of the land.\n\nPresently the tidings of the revolt arrived at the village in the\nmountain, and from rocky pasture and upland field the youth of the\nneighborhood gathered in the village square to choose their chief. And\nbecause Leoline was so spirited and daring, they cried out that she\nmust be their leader and that no other would they obey. Riding at the\nhead of her band of sturdy mountaineers and clad in the armor of a\nyoung knight, even thus went the shepherdess Princess to the wars.\n\nLittle by little the army of the revolt swept towards the stronghold\nof Babylan, and presently encamped at the foot of a huge ridge of land\nno great distance from the city. And there, in the meadows below the\nridge, the people slept, doubting not that the next eve would see their\nvictorious standards in the city streets and Babylan their prisoner.\n\nBut when came the dawn they beheld the terrible black horsemen of\nBabylan drawn up in line along the ridge. The sky was pale behind them,\nthey moved not, and little awakening breezes fluttered their dark\nbannerets. Midway in the sombre rank, mounted upon a giant charger\nhalted a little ahead of the others, was to be seen the wicked King.\nAll at once there were trumpet calls, some near, others afar, and with\na great wild echoing cry the host of Babylan swept galloping down the\nslope of the ridge upon the surprised soldiery of the people.\n\nAnd now all was confusion indeed! A panic was at hand. Emboldened,\nhowever, by the coolness, courage, and resource of Norbert, the army\nof the revolt, though taken by surprise, rallied quickly and held its\nground. All day long thunder of arms resounded from the fair green\nfields and fruit-laden orchards. Norbert performed prodigies of valor,\nand Leoline was ever to be found in the thick of the fray. Now at the\nhead of her mountaineers she brought succor to an encircled group of\nher comrades in the revolt, now from Babylan\u2019s own color-bearer she\nwrested the black standard with the scarlet eagles, now was she to be\nseen giving water to both wounded friend and foe. But, alas! as the day\ngrew old and the shadows lengthened, the host of Babylan slowly gained\nthe mastery, and by nightfall the army of the people was fleeing in\ndisorder through the highways and the fields.\n\nNow it came to pass that Leoline, forced at length to abandon the\nstruggle in which she had played so brave a part, discovered Norbert\nlying wounded and unheeded in an orchard. Dismounting from her horse,\nshe lifted the young leader to the saddle and, accompanied by her\nfaithful troop, hurried through the night toward the village in the\nmountains.\n\nAnd now it was once more dawn. Presently Leoline, Norbert, and their\nfollowers arrived at the little cottage in which Leoline\u2019s old nurse\nand foster mother awaited her return. It was cold, and a crackling\nfire was burning on the huge hearth. After placing their unhappy young\nleader on a little pallet, the mountaineers withdrew, leaving Leoline\nand her foster mother to care for him. As for poor Norbert, alas! so\nweak was he that he lay helpless and unknowing.\n\nAnd now, of a sudden, there came a swift knocking at the door, and\nopening it, Leoline discovered there the little shepherdess whose white\nlamb she had found the year before.\n\n\u201cOh, Maiden Leoline,\u201d cried out the little shepherdess, \u201cI have come to\nwarn you! The King has discovered this refuge and is on his way here\nwith a troop of horsemen. They are mounting the road along the ridge;\nmy father has seen them from the high rock. Oh, make haste and hide or\nyou will fall into his cruel hands!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut our Captain; what of him?\u201d asked Leoline. \u201cWe cannot desert him\nin his hour of sorrow and defeat. Quick, give me your aid, and we will\nhide him away in yonder pines.\u201d\n\nBut the old nurse shook her head. \u201cNay,\u201d she said, \u201cstir him now, and\nhe will never again waken into life.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, Maiden Leoline, do make haste,\u201d cried the little shepherdess,\nholding the door ajar.\n\n\u201cNay, little sister,\u201d answered Leoline, shaking her head, \u201chere shall I\nremain. Farewell, little friend; I thank thee for the warning.\u201d\n\nNow rose the morning sun in splendor over the shoulder of the mighty\nmountain, rolling away the mists and revealing the dewy fields, the\ncrags, and the eternal snows in all their bright unsullied loveliness.\nLeaving Norbert in the care of the old nurse, Leoline ran to the high\nrock.\n\nBefore and below her lay the village, then the deep gulf of the valley\nopening toward the distant plain. All at once the Princess beheld\nBabylan and his men! Up the road leading along the side of the higher\ncrest they were mounting. Ever and anon, on lesser slopes of the\nwinding road, they galloped their steeds.\n\nNow crept despair into the heart of the brave Leoline even as the\nbitter cold of a winter\u2019s night creeps into a room when sinks the fire.\nAnd in her heart she beheld the helpless Norbert in the hands of his\nenemy, her people flying, pursued, to the caverns in the mountain, and\nher village laid low.\n\nBut of whom could she now seek aid? Along the snow-crested ridge nearer\nand nearer rode the wicked King.\n\nSuddenly Leoline recalled to mind the Giant of the Mountain. Turning\nher face toward the mountain peak, she lifted her arms to it and cried\naloud:--\n\n\u201cO Giant of the Mountain, O Giant of the Snows, help us in our need!\u201d\n\nLoud and clear rang the cry of Leoline through the mountain air and was\nfollowed by a silence.\n\nA breeze shook the branches of the dwarfed pines; a bird sang.\n\nThen, suddenly, a far high murmur trembled to a roar, a roar loud\nand terrible enough to drown all the sounds of the world, and from\nthe snow-capped ridge above the road there flowed and rolled down on\nBabylan and his men a mighty avalanche. Huge stones were there in it,\nglistening ice and snow, brown earth and uprooted pines. Sweeping over\nthe road, the mass poured over the precipice into the valley-depth a\nleague below.\n\nSuch was the end of the wicked Babylan.\n\nNow it came to pass that, because his horse had gone lame, one of\nBabylan\u2019s men had fallen behind and, as a consequence, had escaped the\navalanche. Upon this fellow the mountaineers quickly fell and were\nabout to do him a mischief when the horseman cried:--\n\n\u201cHold! Hold! I, and I alone, can tell you of the lost Prince Ariel.\u201d\n\nHearing these words, the mountaineers thought it wise to take their\ncaptive to Leoline. Bound securely, the horseman was thrust into a\ncorner of the cottage and commanded to tell his story to the assembled\ncompany.\n\n\u201cBabylan gave me the Prince Ariel,\u201d said the man at arms, \u201cand bade me\nabandon him in the wildwood. But I obeyed not his cruel word and left\nthe child with a good forester, named Hildebrand of the Oaks.\u201d\n\nNow, when the horseman had spoken, all present knew that, by a strange\nand wonderful turn of Fortune\u2019s wheel, their young leader was likewise\ntheir lawful lord and king. For Norbert the daring had passed as the\nson of the forester, Hildebrand of the Oaks.\n\nAnd now it was the old nurse\u2019s turn to speak. Said she, \u201cLong enough\nhave I kept my counsel, but now that the danger which kept me silent is\nno more, I may tell all. Our Leoline, whom you have known as Leoline,\nthe shepherdess, is Leoline, our Princess and own sister to Prince\nAriel.\u201d\n\nAnd she told them all of her flight to the mountain and of how she had\nsaved the little Princess from the cruel Babylan. You will believe that\nLeoline was amazed to find herself a real Princess. But her heart was\nfilled with joy and pride because of her brother\u2019s deeds.\n\nNow, when Ariel\u2019s wounds had healed and his strength had returned, the\npeople of the mountain escorted him in triumph to the royal city, and\nthere, amid universal joy, the brave Prince claimed and received his\nown. The annals of Fairyland tell of no better King. I am glad to say\nthat he richly rewarded both the man at arms and the old nurse.\n\nAs for Leoline, she took the Mountain for her kingdom and, under the\nprotection of the Giant of the Height, dwelt there long in peace and\nhappiness.\n\n\n\n\nTHE BELL OF THE EARTH AND THE BELL OF THE SEA\n\n\nOnce upon a time a brave mariner, who had sailed the blue for many\nyears, married a captain\u2019s daughter and went to live in a pleasant\ninland country a long way from the sea. Now it came to pass that, as\nthe sailor and his wife dwelt in the inland vale, a sturdy son was born\nto them whom they named Altair; and this little son grew to manhood\nwith a great longing in his heart to go companying with sailors and\nsail upon the sea. Presently the old mariner called his son unto him\nand said:--\n\n\u201cDear son of mine, a sailor were you born and a sailor you shall be.\nGo you forth to the ships, have your fill of a sailor\u2019s life, and may\nhonor and fortune come to you upon the sea.\u201d\n\nSo now the youth Altair bade his dear parents farewell and followed\nthe northern highway to a certain great city by the sea. Day after\nday, as he walked, the soft blue skies and golden clouds of the inland\ncountry vanished behind, a brightness and a faint glow of green\nappeared in the arching heavens, and a cold northern wind shook each\nsombre northern pine. Suddenly one morn the youth heard from afar the\nendless thundering of breakers and, arriving on a sandy height, beheld\ngreat seas tumbling in foam and white confusion on the shore. And thus\ndiscovering the sea, something in the heart of Altair shouted and\nleaped for joy.\n\nTo one side and below stood the towers and masts of the city; there\nwere sailors in her streets with brown faces, rich merchants in velvet\ncaps and gowns, brave pilots, and adventurers, and captains coming and\ngoing to their ships.\n\nAfter purchasing a stout jacket, a knitted cap, a blue sailor blouse,\nand a pair of trousers belling out below, Altair set down his name in\nthe book of a great ship and sailed away upon the sea. Seven years\nhe sailed, now through nights of whispering seas and skies of silent\nstars, now through storms and howling winds and waves blown white with\nfoam. Little by little the youth\u2019s blue eyes took on the look of one\nwho sees afar, his body grew strong, and he walked as a sailor walks,\nwith feet apart and a roll from side to side. Seven years he sailed,\nand then became a captain and master of a vessel of his own.\n\nNow it came to pass that, as the blue-eyed captain returned from a long\nand lonely passage to the Isles of Gold, he beheld a great multitude\nof ships sailing together down the sea. Across his bow they sailed,\ngreat ships stately as castles of oak, little ships that bobbed and\ncourtesied to every wave, ships with pennons, ships with banners, ships\nof all rigs and colors in the world. And so great was the multitude of\nships that some had already crossed the rim of the sea ahead, whilst\nthe swaying spars of others rose faint and far behind.\n\nIn great wonderment as to what the gathering might portend, the young\ncaptain hailed a passing ship and questioned a master mariner.\n\n\u201cThese be the ships of all the world, Sir Captain,\u201d answered the master\nmariner, \u201cand we sail to the land of the King of the South, for he hath\nsummoned us one and all. There is great news, they say, awaiting us at\njourney\u2019s end, but of what it may be none can tell. But come: up with\nyour helm, Sir Captain, and follow through the sea.\u201d\n\nWeek after week, through weather fair and weather foul, Altair sailed\nwith the ships of the world to the Kingdom of the South. All at once,\none fine night between midnight and the morn, the men upon the masts of\nthe first three ships sent back a cry of land, and presently the great\nblue light of the Kingdom of the South shone forth, far away and low\nupon the sea. At sunrise the ships of the world, following one another\nin line, sailed through rocky gates into the wide haven of the King.\n\nThe palace of the King was built upon a hilltop between blue mountains\nand the sea, it was of golden marble made, and a winding marble\nstair led from it to a pavilion and a landing on the bay. Rising in\nsolitary splendor above the ancient trees of the King\u2019s garden, a great\nbelfry-tower soared to the rosy dawn which overhung the hilltop and the\ntown.\n\nAnd now, in the hall of columns, stood gathered the captains of the\nships of all the world, great captains with plumes in their velvet\ncaps and jeweled swords at their sides, merchant captains in capes of\nsober blue, and humble fisher-captains with knitted caps and blouses\ngaily striped. Then came forth to them the King of the South, clad in a\nscarlet robe and a crown of yellow gold, and said to them:--\n\n\u201cCaptains of the ships of all the world, I give you greeting. You wait\nto hear why I have called you from the seas. Hearken then to my word.\nA belfry have I built, the fairest belfry which stands beneath the\nsun, and I fain would lodge in it the fairest and noblest bell in all\nthe world. Find me this bell, O captains of the ships! Go ye to all\nnations, and speed through all the seas.\n\n\u201cHe who finds the bell shall be given a mighty treasure, and be crowned\nwith glory and honor.\u201d\n\nThus having said, the King of the South led the captains of the ships\nto a great feast which he had prepared for them, and there they made\nmerry till the closing of the day.\n\nNow, when the sun had set and the city, the still harbor, and the ships\nwere bathed in a gentle golden light, Altair descended the winding\nmarble stair to the pavilion at which his ship\u2019s boat lay awaiting\nhis return. Now it came to pass that, as the young captain approached\nthe end of the steps, he saw standing by a marble pillar there an\nold bent fisher-wife with a young fisher-maiden at her side. And,\nbecause it seemed to Altair that they were fain to speak to him, yet a\nlittle afraid, the young captain paused at the pillar and asked the\nfisherfolk if some misfortune had come upon them.\n\n\u201cGood Sir Captain,\u201d replied the maid, \u201cwe are fisherfolk of the\nPerilous Isles who would fain return to our homes again. In the\nspringtide of the year, while my mother and I were out amid the nets\nin our little boat, a storm arose which swept us out to sea. For two\nbitter days and nights we fled before the gale, but on the third morn a\ngreat ship chanced to espy us and, rescuing us from the waves, brought\nus to this realm. Long have we sought a way to return into our own\nland. You find us here because of our hope that one of the ships of the\nworld might be sailing by the Isles. But though we have asked those who\npassed before, there was never a one who could help us on our way.\u201d\n\nAnd the old fisher-wife shook her head slowly and sadly, whilst the\nmaid stood still and said no more. The golden light was fading now from\nthe city, the still harbor, and the ships. Even the belfry tower stood\ndark, its empty bell-chamber outlined against the sky. Presently the\ngreat blue light at the harbor mouth awoke in its stately tower, and a\nsudden wind brought a little sound of waves on the distant outer shore.\n\n\u201cBe of good cheer, I will take you to the Isles,\u201d said the young\ncaptain. And, with stately courtesy, he put the fisherfolk in the boat\nand went with them to his ship. Then was heard the sound of ropes and\nblocks and the filling of sails, and presently the ship of Altair fled\naway like a bird into the dark sea. Already there were lights here and\nthere on the dark waves, the lights of ships gone seeking the marvelous\nbell.\n\nAt the end of a fortnight of favoring wind and fine weather, the ship\nof Altair arrived by the Perilous Isles. Huge and high and dark were\nthe Isles, and weed-hung reefs encircled them and tossed fountains of\nspray into the air.\n\nOff the isle of the fishers, the kings of the world had prepared a\nfairway--for so mariners call a passage--through the cruel rocks, and\nat the entrance to this passage a warning bell sank and rose and nodded\nand swung in the seas.\n\nAnd now the fisher-maiden and her mother bade a grateful farewell to\nthe young captain Altair and were rowed ashore to the isle. The name of\nthe maiden, you must know, was Thyrza. Her eyes were gray, and her hair\na pretty ruddy-gold. And so fair she was and so honest and true her\ngaze, that Altair thought he had never seen her like in all the world.\n\nAs for Thyrza, she stood long upon the shore, watching the ship of\nAltair until it dwindled and disappeared at the edge of sea and sky.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNorth and south, through the seas of the world, went Altair in search\nof the bell. To great cities of golden domes he sailed and found silver\nbells, and brazen bells, and even bells of glass, but never a bell for\nthe belfry tower; by lonely shores he passed and saw the far surf\nbreak in a border of white between the yellow sands and the ocean\u2019s\nsweeping green.\n\nNow it fortuned that the boatswain of the vessel was an old mariner\nwho had sailed with Altair since the days of the young captain\u2019s\napprenticeship at sea. And presently this boatswain came to Altair and\nsaid to him:--\n\n\u201cGood master, in the isles of the east was I born, and in those isles\nthere runs a tale that somewhere, in the great sea flowing westward\ndown the world, lies an isle of bells. There is a city there, they say,\nwhose citizens take such joy in the ringing of bells that they will be\nat it all day long; in the mountains of the isle are rare metals most\nfit for noble bells, and there is a King there who is the bellman of\nthe world. It may be but an idle tale, but I tell it as \u2019twas told to\nme.\u201d\n\n\u201cEast and north and unto the south have I sought the bell in vain,\u201d\nsaid Altair. \u201cInto the seas of the west none have ever sailed. Come,\nhelmsman; about, about, and follow the setting sun; we shall seek this\nhidden isle.\u201d\n\nWestward into the bright waves and the great glory of the sun sailed\nAltair. Higher grew the waves, the sun-bright spray fell in showers\nabout the bow, and streams of marbly foam ran hissing at each side. A\nthousand leagues upon a thousand leagues sailed the ship, and presently\nthere came a windless night of swaying ropes, still waters, and the\nstars. And, while the ship glided ever so gently on into the night,\nthere was heard over the sea, faint and far, a golden sound of bells.\n\nNow uttered the sailors a cry of joy which rang to the stars and\ndrowned the voices of the bells. And a wind arose, and the sails\nfilled, and when it was dawn the mountain isle of bells stood before\nthem, lonely as a ship in the wide circle of the sea.\n\nThen to the city of bells they went, and found bells on every house and\ntower, and people wearing bells on the borders of their gowns. All day\nlong great bells were ringing in their towers, chimes were pealing, and\nclusters of little bells replying--tiny bells that sang like children\nat their play.\n\nNow it came to pass that, when the old, bearded King of the Bells heard\nthe tale of the brave voyage of Altair, his heart warmed to the sturdy\nblue-eyed youth and he said to him:--\n\n\u201cGood Sir Captain, you shall have the bell you seek, the fairest and\nnoblest bell in all the world. To-day shall the metal be prepared and\nmelted in the furnace of the mountains, and to-morrow at high noon\nshall the metal be poured into the mould of the bell.\u201d\n\nAnd now it was the high noon of the following day, and the King and his\npeople, together with Altair and his sailors, stood beside the fiery\npit in which the metal of the bell boiled in foam of green and red and\neddying copper-gold. Taking a golden cup filled with earth, the King\ncast it into the pit, saying:--\n\n\u201cO bell, by this token I charge thee to remember the earth!\n\n\u201cThe earth and her sweet sounds, the songs of birds, the rustle of\nleaves, the murmur of brooks, the cry of the night wind, the majesty of\nthunder: of these speak to the sons of men!\u201d\n\nAnd thus having spoken, the old King took a golden cup of water of the\nsea, and cast it also into the molten pit, saying:--\n\n\u201cO bell, by this token I charge thee to remember the sea!\n\n\u201cThe sea and her voices, the roaring of the mighty waves, the thin\nwhisperings of foam, the talk of ripples on the shore of sheltered\nisles, the tumult of the gale: of these speak to the sons of men!\u201d\n\nAnd they poured the fiery metal into the earthy mould and left it to\ngrow cool. Seven days and seven nights sped by, and presently came\nskilful men to cut the bell from the mould, and sculptors to carve upon\nit flowers and trees and leaves and birds and waves and cockle shells.\n\nAnd Altair thanked the old King with all his heart and, stowing the\nbell in the hold of his ship, sailed away eastward and southward\nthrough the sea.\n\nNow it came to pass that, as the returning voyage drew to an end, the\nyoung captain found his ship to be almost empty of victuals and drink;\nso he hastened to the nearest port to see what he could buy. Now it\nchanced that there lay in the same port another ship which was also\nreturning with a bell, a fine bell to be sure, but not one worthy to be\nnamed with the bell of brave Altair. The name of the captain of this\nother ship, you must know, was Kraken, and he was filled with curiosity\nto see if the bell of Altair was a better than his own.\n\nThe ship of Altair lay at a wharf, and strong brown-faced men worked in\nthe hazy sun, rolling kegs of water to the deck and carrying bags of\nmeal down into the hold. Presently Kraken, sitting in the stern of a\nred boat rowed by six of his sailors, came over to call upon Altair.\n\n[Illustration: _And stowing the Bell of the Earth in the hold of his\nship, the young Captain sailed eastward and southward through the sea_]\n\nAnd now Altair and Kraken stood in the dark hold of the ship, and\nAltair held up a great light so that Kraken might see the wonderful\nbell. And beholding the bell, how fair it was, Kraken said in his\nsecret heart:--\n\n\u201cIf the Captain Altair shall return to the land of the South with this\nwonderful bell, my bell will never win the treasure of the King. I must\nfind a way to destroy this captain and his bell!\u201d\n\nTurning to Altair he said, \u201cBrother Captain, when do you sail away?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo-morrow at high noon,\u201d replied Altair.\n\n\u201cAt high noon?\u201d said Kraken, his envious eyes suddenly lit with a\nwicked thought. \u201cYou dare then to sail at night through the reefs of\nthe Perilous Isles?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy ship is fast,\u201d replied Altair, \u201cand I shall find the floating bell\nof the fairway before the sun has set. Once I find it, what is there to\nfear? The passage which it marks is deep and wide. And the Bell has a\nbrave clang.\u201d\n\nAnd now it was the next morn, and Kraken sailed early from the port.\nAll morning he sailed over a lonely gulf of the sea, and arrived at\nnoon before the Perilous Isles. It was a windy day, the hazy sky was\nnow open, now overcast, and here, there, and all about the reefs were\nbreaking white. Gulls barked and piped, and the shaggy weed-hung sides\nof the nearer reefs rose and fell with the waves.\n\nPresently Kraken caught sight of the floating bell which marked the\nentrance to the fairway of the Isles.\n\nThe sea-bell had been made in the fiery mountain forges of the Kingdom\nof Iron. Its round base was of iron, and a band of iron, chiseled about\nwith fish and shells and flowers of the sea, encircled its tossing\nrim. The warning bell rose from the center of the shield, and two iron\nfigures, one of a giant, one of a dwarf, struck it with iron hammers\nnight and day.\n\nAnd Kraken laughed and sent men to break the hammers from the hands\nof the iron figures so that the bell should sound no more. And this\nthey did. But the dwarf and the giant continued to lift and lower their\nempty hands.\n\nSailing through the fairway, Kraken continued on his course to the\nKingdom of the South, and was soon lost to view.\n\nThe wicked deed, however, had not passed unseen. Thyrza, the\nfisher-maiden, had beheld all.\n\nThe long hours of the afternoon dragged to their close. Sunset was at\nhand. Black clouds rose over the edge of the world, the sea darkened,\nand the heavy waves grew black and streaked with foam. A wind began to\nhowl.\n\nSuddenly Thyrza beheld the sails of a great ship fleeing before the\ngale. The hidden sun had almost set, and the black clouds were barred\nwith rays as red as fire.\n\n\u201c\u2019Tis the ship of Altair,\u201d cried Thyrza. \u201cThe night is gathering fast,\nand, unless he hears the bell in the dark, Altair will be wrecked upon\nthe reefs. I must row to the bell, if I can, and sound the warning\nclang.\u201d\n\nAnd now the courageous maiden hastened to her little fishing boat and\nrowed through the dark and the gathering storm to the soundless bell.\nLong and hard she fought, and presently a great gust of the gale swept\nher down against the bell. Great waves were breaking over it in bitter\nspray, and it rolled and tossed and turned and plunged in the sea.\n\nAfter tying her little boat to one of the figures, Thyrza took a round\nstone, which she used as a weight for a net, and began to sound the\nbell.\n\nNearer and nearer drew the ship of Altair. The fiery bars of the sunset\nfaded from the clouds; the wild night closed in upon the sea.\n\n\u201cDing--Dong! Ding--Dong!\u201d went the bell. And the wind howled in the\ndark, and the waves thundered and broke as they fled. Suddenly Thyrza\nsaw the lights of Altair\u2019s ship close at hand; the vessel was safely\nentering the passageway.\n\nSo near she passed to the bell that Thyrza could almost have touched\nher oaken side.\n\nNow, when the lights of Altair\u2019s vessel had vanished in the night,\nThyrza went to unloose her little boat and row ashore. Some fishers had\nseen her on the bell and built a great bonfire on the beach to guide\nher safely in. But suddenly the maid beheld the lights of a second\nship, searching for the fairway and the bell.\n\nWeak and chilled though she was, Thyrza sounded the bell till this\nvessel, too, had passed safely through the reefs. Much to the maiden\u2019s\nsurprise, this second vessel came about and anchored in the little\nfishing-harbor of the Isles!\n\nGuided by the light of the fire, brave Thyrza safely made her way to\nthe shore.\n\nAs for Altair, he continued on to the Land of the South, and was given\nthe treasure and the crown of glory and honor for bringing the fairest\nand noblest bell.\n\nAnd the bell of the earth hung in the belfry-tower, and in the morning\nand the evening spoke to men of the wonder and mystery of the earth and\nthe changing sea.\n\nAnd now the brave young sailor had riches and honors like unto a king,\nyet was he restless at heart, for he remembered the maiden Thyrza and\nwas fain to make her his wife. Returning again to the sea, he sought\nthe Perilous Isles, and hurried ashore to find the gray-eyed maid.\n\n\u201cYou seek the maiden, Thyrza?\u201d asked the fishers. \u201cAlas! she is gone we\nknow not where. In the month of the low moon, two great ships passed at\nnightfall through the fairway of the reefs; one ship continued over the\nsea, and the other came to anchor in our bay. We fear that this ship\nwas perchance a pirate ship, for she sailed away at the break of dawn,\nand since that hour Thyrza hath not been seen.\u201d\n\nAnd the fishers told Altair of how Thyrza had saved the ships by\nstriking upon the sea-bell; and Altair remembered the night of which\nthey spoke, and knew that Thyrza had saved him from the reefs.\n\nEast and west and north and south, along the shores of the world went\nAltair in search of the maid. But never a one he found who could tell\nhim aught of her. A long year he sailed, and presently he came to the\nKingdom of the Moon.\n\nNow it came to pass that, when he went to the palace to ask tidings\nof Thyrza, attendants came and led him before the Queen who ruled the\nland. And she was very young, and clad in a silver gown, a silver\ncrown, and a spreading robe of blue.\n\nStrange to say, a heavy silver veil hid her face from all.\n\n\u201cSir Captain,\u201d said the Queen, when she had heard the story of Altair,\n\u201cyou are wasting your days in quest of the fisher-maid. She is gone;\nyou will never see her more. Have done with this hopeless seeking, and\ntake service in my realm. Stay, and I shall make you the kingdom\u2019s\nadmiral.\u201d\n\nBut gallant and faithful Altair shook his head and answered, \u201cNo.\u201d And\nthough the Queen twice and even thrice besought him to stay, he still\nremained faithful to his quest.\n\nThen laughed the Queen a little merry laugh, and tossed the veil aside.\nAnd Altair beheld Thyrza on the throne!\n\n\u201cDear Altair,\u201d said the Queen, \u201cyou shall hear all. My father was the\nKing of this country and I was his only child. It fortuned that one\nmorn we went forth in a ship, and a great storm arose which drove us\nfrom our course far out into the sea. Presently the ship struck upon\nthe reefs of the Perilous Isles and went to pieces fast. Of all aboard,\nI alone was saved.\n\n\u201cMy subjects long sought for news of the missing vessel, but in vain.\nYears passed, and presently a fisherman of the Kingdom of the Moon\nchanced to land at the Isles and heard from the fishers the story of\nthe wreck. He returned with the tidings, and my people came in a great\nship to take me to my land. We hurried away, for a dangerous wind was\nblowing and the captain was a stranger to the reefs. But even now there\nis a ship on the sea which carries tidings and gifts to the fishers of\nthe Isles.\u201d\n\nSo now the courtiers and the attendants bowed politely and withdrew,\nand Altair and Thyrza walked together to a great window by the sea.\nAnd there the young sailor and the Queen who was a daughter of the sea\npledged their faith to one another.\n\nTheir wedding was the most splendid wedding ever seen in all the world.\nAltair\u2019s good father and mother were there, Thyrza\u2019s foster mother too,\nand all the sailors danced hornpipes and sang old pleasant songs of the\nsea.\n\nAnd they all lived happily ever after.\n\n\n\n\nTHE WOOD BEYOND THE WORLD\n\n\nOnce upon a time a young knight, named Alois, went to dwell at the\ncourt of a mighty King until his coming of age, for he was without\nkinsmen, and heir to great powers and possessions. A tiny round room\nin the castle\u2019s topmost tower was given him to be his very own; and\nfrom the curving sill of its one great window he could look down on the\ngardens of the palace, the woodland beyond, and see the older nobles\nwalking two by two behind the King.\n\nNow it came to pass, upon a summer eve, that the knight Alois beheld\nfrom his tower a lovely golden light moving about on a hillside in the\nwood.\n\n\u201cThe elves must be dancing on the hill,\u201d said the young knight. \u201cI\u2019ll\nride into the wood, and watch them from afar.\u201d And gallop-a-gallop\naway he rode in the dark. The night was still, the birds had gone to\nbed, and a young sickle-moon was sinking in the west with the old moon\nin her arms.\n\nSuddenly the youth beheld the golden light approaching through the\ntrees.\n\nA pretty maiden in a dress of homespun green, a white apron, and a\nlittle cap was carrying a golden lantern through the wood. Her eyes\nwere upon the ground, and every once and a while she stooped to gather\na flower from the earth and thrust it into a basket by her side.\nDismounting from his horse, Alois followed the maid afoot, fearful lest\nthe snapping of a twig reveal his presence in the dark.\n\nAnd now the maiden came to a little house in a moonlit forest-glade\nand, entering the dwelling, closed the door gently behind her. A\ncasement window stood open to the night, the beam of the golden\nlantern filled the room, and presently a voice began to sing a pretty\ncountry-tune. Mingled with the lilt of the ballad was a strange sound,\na purring treading sound something like the whir of a spinning wheel,\nbut heavier and with a queer wooden click to it every tiny while.\n\nApproaching quietly in the moonlight, Alois rose on tiptoe and gazed\nwithin the house.\n\nA single candle in a tall candlestick was burning at each end of the\nmantel, candles were burning in sconces on the wall, and the golden\nlantern, still aglow, hung close beside the door. The maiden of the\nlight was sitting at an oaken loom, working the treadles with her feet,\nand tossing the shuttle back and forth from side to side. Skeins of\ngolden thread, and white, and rose, and mulberry, and blue lay at her\nfingers\u2019 ends, and on the frame of the loom stood forth the finished\nlabor, a noble tapestry in which the maiden had cunningly woven knights\nand ladies, banners and tents and men at arms, and castles moated round\nwith quiet streams.\n\nThis maid in homespun green, I must tell you, was an orphan lass who\nearned her bread in the world by weaving at her loom. It was her custom\nto stain the weaving yarns with colors made of roots and flowers, and\nshe had been wandering about in search of the starlight daisy when\nAlois had seen her lantern on the hill.\n\nNow it came to pass that, as the youth Alois rode home in the moonlight\nto his tower, he could think of naught but the lovely maiden of the\nloom and determined to ride forth again, find her, and make her his\nwife. On the following morning, therefore, he rode singing down the\nwildwood road to the house in the glade and asked a cup of water from\nthe maid. And so graciously and prettily did Fidella--for this was the\nmaiden\u2019s name--offer him the cup, that Alois thought her more than ever\nquite the most charming person in the world.\n\nMonths passed, the youth rode every day to the little house, and\npresently made so bold as to ask Fidella to marry him on the morrow\u2019s\nmorn. Little suspecting that Alois was aught but a simple squire of\nthe court, the maiden answered with a nod, and promised to be ready to\nride with him to the village on the hilltop, and there be wedded by the\nMaster Villager.\n\nAnd now it was the marriage morn; great clouds fled over the sun,\nchilling and quieting the world, yet every now and then breaking\nasunder and dappling the broad land with spots of sunshine, which\ngleamed for a moment and were gone. Dressed in her pretty country\nfinery, and with a nosegay of posies at her throat, Fidella stood by\nher window waiting to hear the thunder of arriving hoofs and Alois\u2019\njoyous hail.\n\nBut, alas! little by little the morning dragged along, the wooden clock\non the mantel ticked and ticked and ticked and ticked, the clouds\ngathered in a gray sea over the noontide sun, yet of Alois came no\nsign. Early in the afternoon a gentle windless rain began to fall, and\npresently the flowers in the garden hung their heads in the gathering\ngloom, as if in sorrow to see so fair a bride forsaken and forgot.\n\nBut now you must hear of what had happened at the court.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nNow, after bidding farewell to the maiden of the loom and promising to\nreturn on the following morn, Alois had gone to his tower and attired\nhimself in the magnificent costume which court ceremonial prescribed\nfor all who were fain to speak with the King. This habit was of richest\nwhite satin, faced with gold; a sword set with splendid sapphires was\nbelted to its side; and a short blue-velvet cape, hanging in loose\nfolds, was secured at the breast by a golden chain. Now, as Alois was\nvery dark and red-cheeked, you will see that this costume was really\nquite becoming.\n\nThus arrayed, the youth went boldly to the King, and spoke freely and\nfrankly of his love for the maid of the loom and of his purpose to be\nmarried with her on the morrow\u2019s morn.\n\nThe King, who sat on his throne clad in a great scarlet robe and\nwearing his crown, listened to Alois with a smile when he began, but\nwith a frown as the tale drew to an ending.\n\n\u201cYouth,\u201d said the King sternly, \u201cI have heard enough; this folly must\nend, and at once. Are you so far forgetful of your great inheritance\nthat you must take a weaver\u2019s lass to be your bride? Go to your tower,\nand see that you ride not beyond the castle wall until I speak the\nword!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, sir, am I not in this my own master?\u201d cried Alois, unafraid.\n\n\u201cYou are my ward,\u201d replied the King, with cold authority, \u201cand I have\nother purposes for you. Sir Alois, go!\u201d\n\n\u201cDo what you will,\u201d replied the youth; \u201cI shall have Fidella, and no\nother.\u201d And holding his head high, the youth Alois quitted the audience\nhall, and mounted to his room.\n\nNow when he had gone, the King, who had sat silent a moment, chin in\nhand, suddenly threw off his crimson robe, called for his coach, and\nrode through the wood to a giant tower on the brink of a wild ravine.\nA powerful enchanter dwelt there, whose magic aid and guileful counsel\nwere ever at the service of the King.\n\nAnd now the enchanter sat in a huge golden chair hearkening to the\nKing. He was very old, this enchanter, and attired in a full black\nmantle, spangled with silver stars and golden crescent-moons; and, as\nhe sat in his golden chair, he leaned forward and rested his two hands\non a stout black cane. The high round chamber was full of a cobwebby\ngloom, and on shelves in the arched windows stood crystal flasks of a\nthousand twisted shapes and colors: deep ocean-blues, fiery scarlets,\nsmoky purples, clear topaz yellows, and bright snake-like greens. And\nthere was a huge black lizard with greeny-scarlet eyes, that made scaly\nnoises as it ran about on the flagstones of the floor.\n\nWhen he had heard the King\u2019s story of Alois and Fidella, the enchanter\nsmote the floor with his black cane, rose to his feet, saying never\na word, and took from a niche in the wall a jar of blackest marble,\nstrangely veined with gold.\n\n\u201cYou have done well to come to me,\u201d said the enchanter to the King,\n\u201cfor the youth is proud-spirited and will resist you to the end.\n\u2019Twere wisest to bend him to your will by magic guile. Within this\nphial dwells the water of forgetfulness; a goblin brought it me from\nthe depths of the underworld. To-night you must pour it forth into a\ngolden goblet, and that goblet you must stand by the youth\u2019s place at\nthe dinner of the court. As soon as he drinks of it, he will forget the\nweaver\u2019s maid forever.\u201d\n\nAnd now it was evening, and the King and his guests were at dinner in\nthe castle banquet-hall. There were candles everywhere, white tables\nand golden plates, and much coming and going of servants clad in green.\nFrom the royal table, raised above the others, the King watched Alois\nthrough the meal. Suddenly he smiled a grim smile; the youth had drunk\nthe cup.\n\nWhen it was late at night the King summoned Alois before him, stared\ninto his eyes, and beheld that he had indeed forgotten all.\n\n\u201cMy Lord Alois,\u201d said the King, \u201cyour coming-of-age approaches, and you\nwill soon find yourself the greatest lord in my dominions. Since you\nare my ward, it has been my duty to seek for you a bride worthy of your\ntitles and estate. In the Kingdom of the Fields a fair Princess dwells.\nMelusine is she called, and to-morrow\u2019s morn you shall go forth in\nstate to offer her your homage and your hand.\u201d\n\nThus spake the crafty King, and hid in his heart his design of adding\nthe Kingdom of the Fields to his own dominions through the marriage of\nthe knight and Melusine.\n\nAnd now it was the morn of cloud and fleeting gleams of sun. In the\nlittle house in the glade, Fidella stood waiting and waiting at the\ncasement window; whilst at the court, Alois drew on his jeweled gloves,\nbowed to the King, mounted into the golden coach, and sank back in\nsplendor against cushions of mulberry brocade.\n\n\u201cTick-tock, tock-tock, tick-tock,\u201d said the clock in Fidella\u2019s house,\nas the hands circled the hours.\n\nAnd the golden coach, gleaming great golden gleams in the pools of\nlight, rolled over the hills and far away.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt was twilight now and, in the little house in the wood, Fidella\nlifted the bridal wreath from her head, lit candles, and sank into a\nwing chair by the burnt-out embers of the fire. So great was her trust\nin Alois, that never a questioning doubt of him raised its voice in her\nheart.\n\n\u201cSome evil thing has surely come to pass,\u201d said faithful Fidella.\n\u201cAlas! what may it be?\u201d And for two days she walked to and fro between\nthe window and her loom, vainly hoping for a sign. On the third\nmorning, no longer able to bear the burden of her fears, the maiden\njourneyed to court and sought news of Alois from the King.\n\n\u201cSo you are the maid of the loom?\u201d said the unpitying King, who owed\nFidella a grudge for having endangered his precious schemes. \u201cAnd \u2019tis\nyour Sir Alois whom you seek? Well, find him if you can. Ho, guards of\nthe palace, take this forward maid, put her in a coach, and drive her\nfar beyond the bounds of my dominions!\u201d\n\nOver hill, over dale, bumping through puddle-holes, and tossing and\nswaying crazily from side to side, rolled the coach in which Fidella\nsat a prisoner. A rushing scurrying wind was flowing over the sunny\nworld, shaking the manes of the galloping horses, rippling the roadside\npools, and worrying the little birds who had just begun to fly.\nPresently Fidella found herself on a lonely moor, watching the coach\nfare homeward into the wind-streaked splendor of the west.\n\nAnd now began the wayfaring of Fidella in quest of Alois, for the King\nhad forbidden the maid to return again into her own land. Down the\nhighway of the Golden Plain she fared and beheld the grain tossing\nabout her like a sea; through the silence of the Adamants she passed,\nand on into the Kingdom by the peaks; yet never a word of Alois brought\njoy to her ear.\n\nNow it fortuned on a spring morning, as Fidella wandered in a pleasant\nland of wooded hills and little singing brooks, she came to the\nstrangest palace that was ever to be seen. Of earth o\u2019ergrown with\ngrass were its mighty walls and lofty battlements; flowers grew in\nthe crannies; blossoming vines swayed from its heights; and, when the\nmaiden peered within, she beheld there a woodsy hall, whose giant\ncolumns were the trunks of living trees. At the far end of the hall, on\na throne of living wood, sat a dark and stately queen. Twelve maidens\nstood beside her, three robed in summer scarlet, three in winter white,\nthree in springtide emerald, and three in russet gold.\n\nThe lady of the palace was Airda, the great Earth Queen. Four sons had\nshe, and each son was master of a season of the year.\n\n\u201cMy faithful Fidella,\u201d said the Earth Queen, when she had heard the\nmaiden\u2019s story, \u201cbe of good cheer, for all that hath been hid from\nyou shall now be known. An enchanted torrent through my palace flows;\nits waters possess the gift of speech, and to every mystery it hath a\nsecret key. Follow, Fidella, to the grotto of the stream.\u201d\n\nNow rose the Earth Queen from her throne and led the way through the\ncool sweet-smelling chambers of the palace to a strange dark grotto,\nhalf cave, half vine-hung hall. At the darker end of the leafy cave a\nlovely waterfall, whose torrent was full of a pale mysterious light,\nwas leaping from some height overhead into a chasm so profound that\nonly the faintest watery murmur rose in whispers from below. Kneeling\nupon the brink of the chasm, Fidella gazed down into the palely glowing\ndepths of the abyss and asked of Alois and his fate.\n\nFor a moment or two, the waters far below seemed to gather themselves\ninto a faint echoing roar, which slowly ebbed to a whisper; and\npresently this whisper became a voice, and dissolved into delicate and\nsilvery words. And the voice of the enchanted chasm told Fidella of\nAlois\u2019 true faith, of the enchanter and the water of forgetfulness, and\nof the youth\u2019s journey to the court of the Kingdom of the Fields.\n\n\u201cAh, me! Is there no way in which the spell may be broken?\u201d said\nFidella.\n\n\u201cIn the wood beyond the world,\u201d answered the torrent, \u201cunder trees\nwhich are older than the stars, the fountain of memory pours its\ncrystal stream. If the youth shall drink a golden goblet of this water,\nthe chain of the spell will break.\u201d And the silvery voice grew faint,\nand died away.\n\nAnd now Airda, the Earth Queen, gave the maiden a fair golden goblet\nwith a golden cover, and bade her sail upon the giant ship of the earth\nto the wood beyond the world.\n\nWhen the maiden arrived at the sea, the sun had vanished below\nmountains to the west, the waves were breaking gently along a darkening\nshore, and ragged hulks of cloud were lying becalmed in the deep and\nstarry sky. Far, far out to sea, rising from the waters like the blue\nbulwark of another land and bridging the vast horizon from west unto\nthe south, stood the giant ship of Airda, the Queen. So high were its\nmasts that their tops could scarce be seen in the dome of the heavens,\nclouds swept through the royal yards, and the lights within the rigging\nfloated like stars upon the sky.\n\nThree days\u2019 journey long, and close upon a day\u2019s journey wide, was the\ngiant ship. Its sails were the size of towns, and a sailor on horseback\ncarried the captain\u2019s orders to the crew. And there were villages\naboard, and wide fields in which men were ploughing, and grazing\ncattle, and highways, and inns wherein travelers might rest.\n\nNow came the dark, a wind rose upon the sea, the black clouds moved\nthrough the stars, and a little boat came to take Fidella to the ship.\nOnce aboard, the maiden was given a pretty cottage with a garden to be\nher very own.\n\nAnd, sailing by night and by day, furrowing vast and lonely seas, the\ngiant ship came to the wood beyond the world.\n\nThe fountain of memory lay at the foot of the noblest of the trees, and\nthe silvery music of its falling water was the only sound to be heard\nin all the wood. A hooded figure of worn and ancient stone, standing\nwith head bowed low, held aloft the jar from which it flowed, an\nendless crystal stream.\n\nAnd Fidella, stooping to fill her cup in the basin of stone below, saw\nmirrored in the water there, gathering and dissolving one into the\nother, memories of all the years of her life which had been.\n\nOnce more through the lonely seas sailed the giant ship of Airda the\nQueen, Fidella again beheld the land, and presently she fared over\nhill and dale to the Kingdom of the Fields.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe winter was over and gone, and all the towns and villages of the\nrealm were decked with bannerets and wreaths of early flowers, for in\nthree days\u2019 time the Lord Alois was to wed the Princess Melusine.\n\nPresently Fidella, journeying through the land, arrived on the crest\nof a hill overlooking the royal city and, pausing there a while, took\ncounsel with herself as to how she might best make her way to Alois and\noffer him the cup of memory.\n\n\u201cI must find me a loom,\u201d said faithful Fidella, \u201cand weave upon it a\nwedding gift so worthy that the lords of the castle will suffer me to\ngo with it to Alois.\u201d\n\nAnd she sought out a house and a loom in a village by the city, and\npaid for them with a penny of gold. And from one neighbor she had\nsilver yarn; and from another, blue; and from others, all the colors of\nthe world.\n\n[Illustration: _Fidella knelt at the edge of the pool, and filled her\ngolden cup with the waters of memory_]\n\nAnd now Fidella began to weave a fair tapestry picture of the story she\nhad lived, beginning the tale with the golden light in the wood and\nthe coming of Alois to the glade. Thread by thread, inch by inch, the\ngrass-palace of Airda grew on the loom, the cave of the talking waters,\nthe giant ship with its masts above the clouds, and the fountain of\nmemory in the wood beyond the world. The sun set behind the high towers\nof the city, and still Fidella labored at the loom; candles melted low,\nand still the sound of the weaving hummed upon the air.\n\nIn the dark of the second night, as Fidella rose to toss a brand upon\nthe fire, she heard, through the quiet of the room, the distant beat of\ngalloping hoofs and the thundering rumble of a coach. Louder and louder\ngrew the sound, and presently there passed the maiden\u2019s dwelling a huge\ncoach speeding from the city. Strange to tell, its lanterns were unlit\nand its curtains closely drawn.\n\n\u201cPerchance some noble guest hath been summoned posthaste to his\nrealm,\u201d thought Fidella.\n\nAnd now it was the morn, the marriage morn of the Knight Alois and the\nPrincess Melusine. Alas, still unfinished was the picture tapestry!\nFearing to risk a single moment more, however, the maiden unbound the\npicture from the loom and, carrying the gift and her golden cup, joined\nthe merrymakers thronging to the city. The streets were already full of\nsoldiers in gayest uniforms, strolling musicians, young nobles, larking\npages, good countryfolk, and sober burgesses in velvet gowns. Those\nwho brought gifts for Alois and Melusine were faring into the castle\nthrough the eastern gate.\n\nThe bells of the castle were ringing as they never rang before.\n\nFidella approached to the portal with her gift. A haughty chamberlain,\nwith a silver chain about his shoulders, stood there by the thresh-hold\nand suffered only those to enter in whom he thought well worthy of the\nboon.\n\n\u201cBut my good young woman,\u201d said the chamberlain severely to Fidella,\n\u201cyour tapestry is unfinished still. Go to your home and weave it to an\nend ere you return again. You may not enter.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, sir,\u201d cried poor Fidella, \u201cdo not thrust me back! Let me enter, I\npray; oh, let me go within!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat I have said, I have said,\u201d replied the chamberlain, shouting at\nFidella through the deafening clangor of the bells. \u201cYoung woman, I\nforbid--\u201d\n\nSuddenly the bells stopped in the middle of a peal, and everything grew\nvery strangely still. People began to look questioningly at one another.\n\nThe Princess Melusine was not to be found! She had fled during the\nnight with her cousin, the King of the Golden Hill. The coach, which\nFidella had seen, had borne the runaway bride. As for the knight Alois,\nsome said that he had already left the realm, whilst others murmured\nthat he was hiding for shame in a tower. And many laughed.\n\nThrust from the portal by the guards, Fidella returned to her cottage\nin the fields.\n\nAnd now it was night, the air was sweet with the fragrance of earth\nbeneath the plough, and a sickle moon hung in the cloudy west with the\nold moon in her arms. Within her silent house Fidella kindled a yellow\nfire, threw the tapestry picture over the loom, and stood by the hearth\ngazing deep into the flame.\n\nSuddenly a knocking sounded at the door, and Fidella, answering the\nsummons, found herself standing face to face with the young knight,\nAlois. His pride touched to the quick, the forsaken youth had lingered\nin the castle till the dark, and then fled with his people from the\ntown. And, because he had fled in haste and was athirst, the youth had\npaused at the first light shining in the fields.\n\nStanding on the threshold in the moonlight, the youth asked a cup of\nwater of the maid. With a beating heart, Fidella lifted to his hands\nthe cup of memory.\n\nAnd now there came an end to the enchanter\u2019s wicked spell and the long\nyears of danger and faithful questing. Letting fall the golden cup,\nthe young knight uttered a great cry and stretched out his arms to the\nfaithful maid for whose sake he had braved the anger of the King, the\nloyal maid who had loved him with a loving faith and braved many a\nperil for him through the kingdoms of the world.\n\n\u201cDear Fidella,\u201d said Alois, \u201cto-day is the day of my coming-of-age, and\nI am free forever of the King. Now shall you be the Lady of my land.\nCome; my people and my coach are at the door.\u201d\n\nSo now Fidella quenched the taper, leaving only a flickering brand to\nlight the empty room, and walked with Alois to the coach. A little\nbreeze was stirring in the grass, and somewhere in a glen beyond the\nfields a bird awoke, sang a few sweet piping notes, and then was still.\n\n\u201cI am glad I did not finish my tapestry,\u201d whispered Fidella; \u201cfor now I\ncan weave it to a merry close.\u201d\n\nAnd the coach rolled away, over hill, over dale, in the golden light of\nthe moon.\n\n\n  The Parson Capen House\n  Topsfield, Massachusetts\n\n\n\n\nOther Books by the Same Author\n\n\nTHE FIRELIGHT FAIRY BOOK. A new edition with a preface by Lieut.\nCol. Theodore Roosevelt. A collection of fairy tales which match the\n_Starlight Wonder Book_ in gorgeous and whimsical fancy, and in their\nappeal to children. Illustrated in color by Maurice Day. Published by\nthe Atlantic Monthly Press, Boston. Price $3.00 postpaid.\n\nA VOLUNTEER POILU. Memories of the struggle for the Bois le Pr\u00eatre and\nthe Defense of Verdun, 1915-16.\n\nFULL SPEED AHEAD. An eyewitness\u2019s account of life aboard submarines,\ndestroyers and battleships of the United States Navy, 1917-18.\n\n Printed by McGrath-Sherrill Press, Boston Bound by Boston Bookbinding\n Co., Cambridge\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber\u2019s Notes\n\n\nA number of typographical errors were corrected silently.\n\nCover image is in the public domain.","title":"The Starlight Wonder Book","tradition":"folklore-oral-tradition","translated_text":null,"word_count":42189}