Chapter III: Part 3

"Of course you will, dear little child," he said, and he took her on his knee, but she noticed that his eyes were filled with tears.

From that moment, Heartsease began to suspect that there was something wrong about herself, and that she was not quite the same as other children. One summer night, after she had been put to bed, her nurse and the nurserymaid were sitting by the nursery window darning some stockings. They thought Heartsease was asleep.

"Princess Elsa will be fifteen years old come Michaelmas," said the nurse.

"They'll be looking for a bridegroom for her soon," said the nurserymaid. "She's as tall as a grown-up lass already."

"I pity her husband," said the nurse; "she's a regular cross-patch she is, and as proud as a peacock."

"And as different from the little one as cloth from silk," said the nurserymaid.

"Ah!" sighed the nurse, "poor little lamb! they'll have a hard task to find her a suitor, although she deserves the best in the land."

Heartsease wondered what this could mean, and the more she pondered over it, the sadder she became.

The years passed by, and a great feast was held at Court to celebrate Princess Elsa's seventeenth birthday. All the princes of the land were invited, for the King and the Queen thought that the time had come for Elsa to be married. The three principal suitors were Prince Silvergilt, who possessed immense riches and countless jewels; King Sharpsword, who was a terrible fighter, and had slain two hundred knights in single combat; and Prince Simple Simon, who was the youngest son of a powerful king, and so simple that he was always laughed at by everybody. Besides these there were a number of less important knights and princes. As soon as the Prince Silvergilt set eyes on Princess Elsa, he made up his mind that she would make just the right wife for him, because she was beautiful and haughty, and he was determined that the queen of his country should be the proudest woman in the world, and should always be dressed in gold, and wear a heavy crown.

The King's feast was the most splendid that had ever been known, and it was followed by a display of fireworks and a ball. Prince Silvergilt danced with Princess Elsa, and King Sharpsword danced with Elfrida, and all the other princes and knights chose partners from among the crowd of beautiful princesses who were there; but nobody chose poor Heartsease, who sat lonely and very sad in a corner by herself.

At last, when the ball was nearly over, Prince Simple Simon noticed that Heartsease was all by herself, and he went up to her and asked her why she did not dance.

"Because," said Heartsease, "nobody has asked me to."

"Will you dance with me?" asked Simple Simon.

"Of course I will," said Heartsease, and he led her out. As he did this, Heartsease noticed that the courtiers looked at each other and hid a smile. They danced round the room; but Simple Simon was so awkward that although Heartsease, who danced like the wind, steered him beautifully, he kept on catching his sword in the trains of the princesses, and bumping up against them, so that all the courtiers tittered, although they tried to hide it, and Heartsease was obliged to ask him to go back to the quiet corner where she had been sitting.

"They are laughing because I dance so awkwardly," said Simple Simon. "Everybody laughs at me, except Lizbeth."

"Who is Lizbeth?" asked Heartsease.

"Lizbeth is the goose-girl in our village," he answered. "We are betrothed, and I am to wed her as soon as I have made my fortune."

"It was at me they were smiling," said Heartsease. "They always smile at me, and I do not know why. But perhaps you will tell me."

"I do not know," said Simple Simon.

"You see," said Heartsease, "the courtiers here pay me extravagant compliments. They tell me I am beautiful and clever; but I do not know whether it is true, because I have never seen my own face."

This was true, because there was no such thing as a looking-glass in the whole kingdom, and poor Heartsease had never been allowed to go near a river, a pond, a pool, or any place where she might have seen the reflection of her own face.

"I think," said Simple Simon, "your face is very beautiful. You have such nice, kind eyes. But then everybody says I am a bad judge. But haven't you ever looked at yourself in a mirror?"

"What is a mirror?" asked Heartsease.

"I will show you to-morrow morning," said Simple Simon.

At that moment a herald dressed in gold came into the ballroom, and blew a blast on his silver trumpet which meant that supper was ready. Heartsease would have liked to have gone in to supper with Simple Simon, but the Court etiquette did not allow it, and an old duke who was deaf came up, and gave her his arm.

The next morning Heartsease was feeding her tame birds in the garden when Simple Simon appeared before her.

"I have brought you a mirror," he said. And he gave her a piece of smooth polished steel which he had cut out of his own breastplate.

Heartsease looked at her face, and then two large tears ran down her cheeks.

"Oh!" she said, "it was unkind of you to mock me. I understand everything now. I see why nobody will speak to me. I am a hideous fright; my face is covered with spots and marks."

"But I wasn't mocking you," said Simple Simon. "I don't think those spots matter a bit. You have got such nice, kind eyes."

"No, no," said Heartsease, "I understand everything. Nobody will ever marry me."

"I am sure they will," said honest Simon; "why, I would have married you gladly myself if I had not been betrothed to Lizbeth." And so saying, Simple Simon said good-bye to Heartsease, for it was time for him to start once more on his travels.

Heartsease said good-bye to him and thanked him for his kindness, for she understood now that he had not meant to mock her, but that he spoke the truth, and she told him that she hoped he would make his fortune soon, and marry Lizbeth the goose-girl, and be happy ever afterwards.

When Simple Simon rode off on his old grey mare, Heartsease felt sad and lonely, for the only friend she had ever made was now leaving her for ever. The festivities went on all day long, because the Prince Silvergilt asked Elsa to be his wife, and it was settled that they should be married without any delay. So in the evening there was another great State ball, but Heartsease felt so sad at heart that she said she was not feeling well, and she went up to a little room where she kept her dolls, and all the treasures she had had when she was a child. This little room was in an attic in a side wing of the palace, and it looked over a narrow street, for the palace stood in the middle of the city. Heartsease had made this room a hiding-place for herself as soon as she was big enough to leave the nursery. Nobody knew it existed except her nurse, and she could go and play there when she wanted to be alone. She liked to look out on to the street and see the people coming and going, the horses and the carts clattering over the cobblestones, instead of on to the big empty gardens on which all the state-rooms looked out, and where you saw no one except the sentry walking up and down, and the courtiers, strutting about like peacocks in their wigs and hoops. The room had a little bed in it, and sometimes she slept there; but this evening she was not at all sleepy, and she leant out of her window and watched the evening star shining in the summer twilight, which was still tinged with yellow in the west.

Faintly in the distance she heard the sounds of harps, cymbals, and drums coming from the banqueting-hall, where the King was holding a feast. The little street beneath her was quite empty and silent, the curfew had sounded, and the watchman had blown his horn and told all good people to put out their lights and go to bed, and in the jutting-out casements of the pointed red-gabled houses opposite her, which seemed to lean over the street, there was not a light left.

Suddenly she heard the sound of footsteps tramping on the cobblestones, and round the corner of the street she saw a dark figure coming along, which seemed to her to be a man. It was dark now, and the sky was a deep and wonderful blue. The moon had not risen, and only a few stars twinkled, very large and bright.

The figure walked slowly along, keeping close to the walls of the houses opposite to her. When he was opposite the palace he stopped. She could not distinguish clearly who it was, but she saw at once it was a man. He was carrying something in his hand, and presently she became aware that it was a lute, or a musical instrument of some kind, for he began to play, and a thin thread of sound crept from the darkness and found a way straight into her heart.

Then it all at once came into her mind that she had seen this man before and heard these sounds already, and she remembered the vagabond who played a hurdy-gurdy, and to whom she had given her favourite doll, long ago when she was little. But now his music sounded different. "Perhaps," she thought, "it is because I am older and can understand it." However that may be, never in her life had she heard or imagined anything so melodious and so sweet. For while the vagabond played, he sang, and although the words of his song were in some tongue which was unknown to her, she seemed to understand every word of it. Although she had never heard the vagabond's voice before, it seemed familiar to her as if she had known it all her life. And there was something warm in it which gladdened you, and something soft and lovely like the tender colours of summer dawn. But more than all things Heartsease felt that the voice was the voice of a friend who would be kind to her and comfort her; and Heartsease felt she could listen to it for ever.

"Come away," it seemed to say, "from this palace and these unkind people, and I will give you freedom, and we will roam together over the wide world, and sleep beneath the stars, and drink of the clear brooks and bathe in the streams; in the summer the sky shall be our tent, and the stars shall be our candles, and in the winter we will make ourselves snug and warm in the heart of the woods; we will wander over hill and valley, and will float on a raft down the broad river till we come to the sea; and we will cross the great sea, and I will give you a little cottage of your own, all overgrown with honeysuckle, where the bees hum and boom, and there I will lull you to sleep with a song."

Then all at once the music ceased, and Heartsease wanted to call the minstrel, but he had vanished, and although he had sung quite loud, none of the people in the houses seemed to have noticed him.

All night long Heartsease dreamed of the vagabond and of his singing, and the next evening she waited at her window as soon as the sun set.

But the vagabond did not come that evening, nor the next evening either, and weeks and months went by but he did not come again.

A year after this Princess Elsa was married. The King and the Queen gave another great feast in honour of their second daughter, Elfrida, and this time King Sharpsword was betrothed to her, and the wedding was celebrated with pomp and ceremony. As usual there were feasting and dances every night, and although all the princes of the land were there, nobody took any notice of poor Heartsease except the old duke, who was obliged to lead her in to supper according to the etiquette of the Court. And this time Heartsease had no friend to talk to, for Simple Simon was not there, although she had news of him. He had made his fortune, much to everybody's surprise, by capturing a cruel ogre, and he had married Lizbeth the goose-girl, and they were as happy as the day is long. But although Heartsease was lonely and despised, she did not feel lonely any longer, for somewhere she felt she had a friend who would not forget her, and she remembered the marvellous song of the vagabond.

The night Elfrida was married, Heartsease again said she did not feel well, and she went to the little room in the attic, and waited by the window while the light faded from the twilight sky. And as soon as it grew dark, she heard the footsteps on the cobblestones, and soon the piercing notes of the sweet familiar voice echoed in the street, sighing, soothing, and binding her with a spell, healing her heartache and taking away her homesickness, and calling her away to the valleys and the hills. For hours she seemed to listen to the deep, deep tones, and then, as the year before, the sound suddenly ceased and the vagabond had vanished.

The next year Heartsease herself was seventeen years old, the age at which it was the custom for the royal princesses to be married. But although the King and the Queen made a great feast and invited all the princes of the land, not one of them asked the King for the hand of his daughter Heartsease, because they all thought it was impossible to marry a wife who was such a fright.

The King and the Queen were miserable, and they settled to wait another year, in case some kind prince might come who would be willing to marry Heartsease.

As for Heartsease, she begged her father and mother not to worry about her. She told them she did not want to marry any one, and that she was quite happy living at home and taking care of them. And they did not know that she had looked at herself in a mirror and had seen her face. But although she said this, and pretended to be happy and cheerful, she was really sad at heart because she was such a fright, and she was sure nobody could love her, and the only thing which consoled her was the mysterious vagabond who came once a year and sang beneath her window.

Soon after Heartsease's seventeenth birthday, her mother, the Queen, went one day for a ride in the forest by herself, and the wicked Fairy of the Yellow Mines carried her off in her chariot and locked her up in a castle. The people of the city searched for the Queen everywhere, but no trace of her was to be found, so that everybody thought she must have been eaten by wild beasts; but Heartsease knew this was not true, because she saw her mother in her dreams every night. Another year passed, and just before Heartsease's birthday came round, the old King married again. The new Queen was the godchild of the Fairy of the Yellow Mines. She was wicked, and owing to the spells which her godmother had taught her, she could make the King do anything she wished, and she made him believe the Queen had been eaten by wild beasts. No sooner were they married than her wickedness and her cruelty, which she had hidden up to that moment, became plain to everybody. She hated Heartsease, because Heartsease was good and unhappy, and she tormented her in every possible way; and to crown all, on the day before Heartsease's birthday, she said she could not have a lazy, good-for-nothing slut about the house, but that Heartsease must marry at once, and that since nobody would marry her of their own accord, she would find some one who should do so whether he liked it or not.

That very day the new Queen sent a message by a rat to her godmother, and the Fairy of the Yellow Mines arrived in her chariot drawn by two snorting dragons.

"It's about that child," said the Queen, when her godmother had arrived and settled herself comfortably in an arm-chair. "She bothers me. I want you to find her a husband--some one who will keep her in order and not stand any nonsense; at the same time I should like it to be a suitable and proper alliance--suitable for me too, that is to say."

"I quite understand," said the Fairy.

"You see," said the Queen, "the King won't live long, and when he dies I shall be Queen of the country, and I shall not want any of the King's sons-in-law to come bothering or interfering, disputing my right to the kingdom, or any nonsense of that kind. I am quite at my ease about Prince Silvergilt and King Sharpsword; they are so busy beating their wives that they will not bother me."

Now this was quite true, and Elfrida and Elsa were both of them unhappy; because their husbands were unkind, and they were obliged to wear stiff robes all day, and heavy crowns, and they were beaten if they did not look happy and cheerful.

"I have got the very thing," said the Fairy; "my dear nephew Crookedshanks is just what you want. He has been looking for a wife for a long time, but so far nobody has consented to marry him. He's so beautiful, you know"--and here the Fairy chuckled--"he's a dwarf and a hunchback, and he's got such a sweet, sweet temper. He'll keep the minx in order."

"But," said the Queen, "I hope he won't interfere with me."

"Never fear," said the Fairy, "he lives inside the copper mountain, deep down underground, like a mole among the gnomes, and he would not leave the treasures he hoards there for all the kingdoms of the earth."

Thus it was settled that Heartsease should marry Crookedshanks, and the Fairy of the Yellow Mines brought him to the palace the next day, which was Heartsease's birthday.

Crookedshanks was hideous to look at, and he was as spiteful as he was ugly. And when Heartsease was brought to him, and told that this was to be her husband, she could not believe her eyes. She begged her father to save her; but her father was now so completely spellbound by the wicked Queen that he could not do anything, and so all preparations were made for Heartsease's wedding, which was to take place on the morrow.

But in the evening, just before the feast began, Heartsease escaped from the banqueting-hall when no one was looking, and ran up to the little room in the attic. Then she opened the windows wide and leaned out into the street.

It was a lovely evening. There was a smell of sun-dried hay in the air, and the dust of the town made a golden cloud in the west which faded presently, and when the evening star lit its lamp the sky was soft and blue. In the palace everybody was looking for Heartsease. They were searching the halls and the gardens, but nobody thought of looking for her in that out-of-the-way attic, except her nurse, but she did not tell anybody. Presently Heartsease heard the well-known footstep of the vagabond, and her heart gave a great leap for joy.

He walked right up to the house opposite her window, and began to sing. And this time his beautiful voice was louder and stronger than it had ever been. And Heartsease leant out of the window and cried out--

"Come, for I have heard and I am ready!"

The song ceased, but this time the vagabond did not vanish. He crossed the narrow street, and entered at one of the side doors of the palace which was just beneath Heartsease's window. Heartsease heard him walking up the winding wooden stairway, and soon the vagabond entered her room and stood before her in his rags and tatters, poor, pale, ill-kempt, limping and miserable. And Heartsease ran to him and cried out--

"At last you have come, my lover, my lord and my bridegroom!"

"Do you really wish to come with me?" he asked. "My kingdom is the open field, and my palaces are the dark wood and the highway; my brothers and sisters are the cold winds, the rain, the snow, and the hail; my jewels are tears, and my wealth is sorrow."

And Heartsease said: "I will come with you to your kingdom and dwell in your palaces; and your brothers and sisters shall be my brothers and sisters, and I will wear your jewels and share your wealth as long as I live!"

The vagabond gave Heartsease a silver penny, which was all his wealth, and they climbed down the narrow staircase and went out into the night.

* * * * *

In the King's palace on the night of the banquet there was great commotion because Heartsease could not be found anywhere. The courtiers searched high and low, in the palace and in the gardens, but all in vain, until at last they gave it up and the banquet was begun without her.

The Queen was angry, and the old King was sad, and Crookedshanks gnashed his teeth and pinched everything he met, out of spite. The next morning the nurse came to the King and told him Heartsease could not be found anywhere. So the King issued a proclamation which was sent far and wide over the whole kingdom, saying that whoever should find his daughter Heartsease would receive half of his kingdom. But although a great number of people set out to try and find Heartsease, they none of them succeeded, and most of them gave up the quest after a time.

Now Heartsease and the vagabond wandered far over hill and dale, north and south, east and west, earning their bread by songs, until they came to the grim castle in which Heartsease's mother had been imprisoned by the wicked fairy.

The vagabond sang a song outside the castle, so that Heartsease's mother could hear him, and he told her that Heartsease was alive and had not forgotten her, and that one day the wicked fairy's spell would be broken. And Heartsease saw her mother's hand waving through the thick bars of the narrow window of the castle. Then they wandered on till they came to the kingdom of King Silvergilt, and there, in a castle, were Prince Silvergilt and his wife Elsa; and King Sharpsword and his wife Elfrida were staying with him. Elsa and Elfrida were both of them unhappy because their husbands were so unkind.

The vagabond and Heartsease went under Elfrida's window, and the vagabond sang a song, but no sooner had he begun than Prince Silvergilt sent out his soldiers, and told them to drive the vagabonds away. Now Elsa and Elfrida were sad and sorry because the vagabond's song had made them feel happier, but they dared not say a word. Only when it grew dark they crept out of the castle, into the wood, which was next to it, to see if they could find the two vagabonds and give them alms. They wandered about in the forest, and they soon came to a little hut where the vagabond and Heartsease were lying fast asleep on a heap of leaves.

"Here they are, poor, poor people!" said Elsa; "they have got nothing to eat."

"They must be very cold," said Elfrida, and she took off her cloak and laid it over them.

"Do you remember a vagabond telling us we should one day envy Heartsease her husband?" said Elsa.

"Poor Heartsease, she'll never have a husband; but I'm sure we envy her now, wherever she is," said Elfrida.

"I would give worlds to see her again," said Elsa. "Poor, poor Heartsease, to think how unkind we were to her!" And Elsa and Elfrida began to cry bitterly, and their tears fell upon Heartease's face.

Then leaving behind them some bread and wine which they had brought with them, and a purse full of gold, and their cloaks, they went back to the castle; neither of them had recognised Heartsease.

The next morning when the vagabond and Heartsease rose, they found the gifts that the sisters had brought, and the vagabond told Heartsease to go and look at herself in a pool which was hard by. When Heartsease looked into the pool she gave a cry of surprise, because the ugly marks had gone from her face, and she looked like what she had been when she was a little girl--lovely, and fresh as a rose in the morning dew, and the loveliest princess in the world.

"Now," said the vagabond, "we will go to your father's castle."

So they started for the King's castle, but it was far off, and they had to pass through many cities and villages; and when the people in the cities and the villages heard the vagabond singing in the street, and saw Heartsease, they wondered at her great beauty, and when the vagabond sang they were afraid, and they thought he must be a wizard and that Heartsease was a witch, and they often drove them away from their doors; so that Heartsease and the vagabond with difficulty earned enough bread to keep them alive.

At last they reached the city of the King, and there they read the King's proclamation, which said that whoever should find Heartsease would receive half the kingdom. The vagabond went straight to the King's palace, and asked to see the King; but the soldiers stopped him at the gate and said that beggars were not allowed to go into the palace. But when the vagabond said he had found Princess Heartsease they durst not forbid him to enter. So the vagabond was led to the King, and he told him that he had found his daughter.

The King was overjoyed, but Heartsease's stepmother said it was not true, and the King told the vagabond to bring Heartsease to the palace. He went to fetch her, and when he brought her to the palace everybody was dazzled by her beauty, but nobody recognised her, not even the King, for he could not understand how the Heartsease whom he remembered could have turned into such a vision of beauty. But there were two people in the castle who said that they recognised her: one was her old nurse, and the other was Simple Simon, who happened to be there. Simple Simon said he saw no difference in her at all: that she was now just as she had always been, with the same kind eyes and lovely smile. And when he said this, the whole Court laughed, and they said that Simple Simon would never cease to be a ninny. And as for the nurse, the Queen said she must be locked up in the dungeon at once for telling lies. Then the wicked Queen said that the vagabond was a wizard, and that Heartsease was a witch, and that they had killed the real Heartsease, and that they must both be burnt alive in the public square. And owing to her magic everybody believed this, and the vagabond and Heartsease were thrown into prison.

But the King, who did not want them to be burnt, sent for his daughters Elsa and Elfrida, to see if they recognised Heartsease. Elfrida and Elsa arrived with their husbands, and Heartsease was brought before them, but she was not allowed to speak; and owing to the wicked Queen's spells, neither Elfrida nor Elsa recognised their sister. After this it was settled that the vagabond and Heartsease should be burnt in the public square.

On the day this was to happen the whole town gathered together to see the wizard; and the vagabond and Heartsease were driven from the prison to the square, where a large pile of fagots had been prepared, in a cart. And when the people saw Heartsease, a wave of pity went through the crowd, so lovely and so innocent was her face. The King and the Queen, his daughters, and all the Court were there, and when the vagabond got out of the cart he asked the King to grant him one last favour: and this was to allow him to sing a song before he died. And the King granted it him.

The vagabond began to sing, and he sang the sweetest and most wonderful song that had ever been heard; he sang of the love that never dies, and the love which is stronger than death; and as he sang, the evil spells of the wicked Queen died in the King's heart, and he remembered his true wife, and the great love he bore her; and Elsa and Elfrida recognised the voice, and they cried out--

"It is the vagabond we heard when we were children, and it _is_ Heartsease after all!"

And the King cried out: "Yes, it is Heartsease after all!" And he ran to her, and took her in his arms, and covered her with kisses. Then he said to the vagabond: "You have brought me back my daughter. You shall be my son and you shall have half my kingdom."

But the wicked Queen said: "That is impossible! How can you give half your kingdom to a vagabond in rags and tatters?"

But the King said: "I do not care if he is a vagabond or not. He shall wed my daughter and have half my kingdom."

And as he said this the vagabond threw off his dark, tattered cloak, and there stood before the throng a wonderful shining figure with wings, and golden hair, and across his shoulder there was slung a silver bow with a quiver full of silver arrows, and he held a lyre in his hand, and all round him was a cloud of golden light like the fire of sunrise. And his face shone, and his eyes were like stars. But when the wicked Queen saw this, she was so angry that she burst with rage, and all her spells were undone.

At the very same moment the Fairy of the Azure Lake arrived in her chariot of honeysuckle drawn by ten bees, and she brought Heartsease's mother with her, and Heartsease's old nurse, whom she had released from prison. You can imagine their surprise, and how they all cried for joy! and how happy they all were!

Then the King said to the vagabond: "You shall wed Heartsease and receive half my kingdom; but who are you, noble prince, and what is your name?"

And the vagabond answered: "I will wed Heartsease, but I have a kingdom of my own, and we must live there and nowhere else; and as for my name, it is Love, the Vagabond, but now I shall wander no more."

Then Crookedshanks was banished from the Court, and the Fairy of the Azure Lake changed Prince Silvergilt into a candlestick, and King Sharpsword into a grindstone, and she found two kind new husbands for Elsa and Elfrida. And a great wedding was held, and the day after it Love the Vagabond put Heartsease on a snow-white steed, and they started for the kingdom of Love the Vagabond, and they galloped across the plains, down the valleys, and over the hills until they came to the sea, which is at the end of the world, and they rode over the sea as easily as if it had been a grassy meadow.

And on the other side of the sea they came to a country of blue hills and green woods and golden cornfields, and there in a garden full of roses was a little cottage covered with honeysuckle, round which the bees hummed and boomed.

"This," said the Vagabond, "is my kingdom. Here is our home where we shall live happily together."

And Heartsease and the Vagabond lived happily in this little cottage for ever afterwards; and the King and Queen, and their sisters, and Simple Simon and Lizbeth his wife, often paid them long visits.

THE MINSTREL

Once upon a time, in a small village in the mountains, there lived a blacksmith and his wife. They were poor but they were happy; the blacksmith had always plenty of work, and their only sorrow was that they had no children.

One day the blacksmith's wife walked from the village down into the valley to a farmhouse to buy some eggs from the farmer, whom she knew. On her way back, as it was a fine spring day and the snows had melted, she loitered on the mountain so as to gather some wild-flowers.

As she was picking the flowers she heard some one muttering behind her, and turning round, she saw an old woman, bent and worn, who was muttering a supplication.

"What can I do for you?" asked the blacksmith's wife.

"Give me the eggs you have in that basket," said the old woman.

The blacksmith's wife, although she was afraid she would be scolded at home, durst not refuse, and gave the eggs to the old woman.

"Thank you kindly," said the old woman; "in return for your kindness I will grant you a wish."

The blacksmith's wife at once answered: "I wish to have a daughter who shall be more beautiful than the Queen's daughter."

"Your wish shall be granted," said the old woman. "But take this charm, hang it up over your hearth, and never give it away, for if you do, you will give your daughter with it."

So saying the old woman gave the blacksmith's wife a small copper coin made in the shape of a heart, and as soon as she had done this she hobbled off into the wood.

The blacksmith's wife went home and told her husband about her adventure, and they hung the copper coin over their hearth and they laughed for joy.

As the fairy had predicted, a daughter was born to them, and she grew to be such a lovely little child that the blacksmith and his wife were almost frightened. She was more like a fairy than a mortal. It seemed as if she had invisible wings; her skin was more delicate than a pearly sea-shell, and one expected to see little elves dancing round her when she played in the fields.

They had christened her Snowflower, because she was like the flowers that grew on the great mountains. And the name was a proper one, for she loved the snow-fields and the spaces of the great hills. Everybody who saw her was amazed--some said that she would wed the King's son; others that she would one day be the Empress of the West; but one old crone, who was spiteful, said that she was much too beautiful to live long.

One day when Snowflower was nine years old, her father and her mother had gone up into the hills to visit some friends. It was Saturday afternoon, and they had left Snowflower in charge of the shop, and had said that they would not be back till late. Snowflower was sitting outside in the street, watching the sunset--it was a warm summer's eve--when she heard some one singing a strange song.

Never had she heard anything so strange and so beautiful before: the voice was a man's voice, deep and hoarse, and it seemed to come from very far away; the song he sang was soft and sad, but it had a piercing note in it, something that made you listen whether you wished to or no; it was a voice which you felt must be obeyed.

Snowflower was lost in dreams, and when the singing stopped, she would have given worlds and worlds for it to begin again. While she was wondering who the singer could be, she suddenly became aware of a shadow across the street, and she saw before her a tall minstrel carrying a lute. His face was half muffled in a black cloak; and all that she could see distinctly were two dark eyes, very sad, but bright as stars. The sun had set, the stars were coming out, and Snowflower was afraid. Nevertheless she at once asked him whether it was he who had been singing. He said--

"Yes, it was I."

"Shall I ever hear you again?" asked Snowflower.

"Yes, if you will give me a reward," said the minstrel.

"What can I give you?" asked Snowflower. "I have no money, and my father and my mother have gone to the farm and they won't be back till late."

"All I want," said the minstrel, "is the little copper coin in the shape of a heart that hangs over your hearth."

"Oh! you may have that with pleasure," said Snowflower, "it is only a brass farthing." And she ran indoors, and fetched it, and gave it to him. "Only now you must sing to me again," she said.

"I promise to sing to you again, but not now," said the minstrel, and he walked away into the darkness.

When Snowflower's father and mother came home, they noticed at once that the little copper coin had gone, and Snowflower told them that she had given it to a wandering minstrel.

Her mother was vexed and cried; but her father said--

"Never mind, never mind, no harm ever came yet of giving alms to the poor."

The years passed by, and Snowflower never once saw the mysterious minstrel again, and she soon forgot all about him. She grew up into a most beautiful maiden; and when she was seventeen, there was no one to compare with her in the whole country. She was dazzling like the snow on the mountains, and soft as the blush that steals over them in the dawn, and her eyes were like the pools that reflect the sky in the hidden places of the hills. So beautiful was she that the fame of her spread far and wide, and the King thought that she would make an excellent wife for his only son, who was just old enough to marry.

So he sent one of his courtiers in disguise to the village in the mountains; he was to find out whether what the people said about Snowflower was true or not.

He came to the village and saw Snowflower, and when he returned to the palace once more, he told the king that Snowflower was far more beautiful than what men told of her, and that it was indeed impossible to describe her, for she was more beautiful than all mortals, but like a fairy or a dream-child. When the King heard this, he set out with many of his courtiers for the village in the hills, and they found Snowflower sitting and spinning at the door of the blacksmith's shop.

The blacksmith and his wife were astonished and frightened when they saw all these grand folk coming to their home, and when the King said that he wished his son to marry their daughter they could hardly speak for surprise. The King's son was as fine and as brave a lad as any in the land, but it was settled that he was not to marry till he was twenty-one, and now he was only twenty. So the King said he would come back in a year's time and fetch Snowflower.

The blacksmith was of course delighted at his good fortune; but Snowflower said that she did not wish to leave her native village, and her father's home, and that she was quite happy where she was. And her mother, remembering what the fairy had said, and how Snowflower had given away the copper coin, was frightened, and she and Snowflower cried bitterly together. But the blacksmith said this was nonsense, and laughed at the two women for being so silly.

After a year had gone by, the King sent a whole train of courtiers to fetch Snowflower, and they put her on a pony and they brought her to the city and the palace of the King.

It was arranged that the wedding should be held a few days after her arrival.

Snowflower was given a gorgeous room in the palace looking out on to a wide courtyard, round which there were statues and colonnades; and splendid preparations were made for her wedding ceremony.

She was introduced to the Prince directly, and he fell in love with her at first sight. As for Snowflower, she knew not whether she loved the Prince or not, but she thought she had never seen so charming and handsome a person before, and she would have been quite happy but for a home-sickness which never left her, for she longed for the sight of the snowy mountains, the green valleys, and the little village where she was born; and she felt that she could not live for ever far away from the snows, and the streams, and the flowers of the great white hills.

She had gone to bed early and fallen asleep at once, but towards midnight she was awakened by a sound which seemed to be familiar to her; she ran to the window and looked out into the courtyard, whose pillars were gleaming in the moonlight. Again she heard a sound, and then on the midnight wind there were borne into the room the notes of a song which she thought she had heard once before, long ago, in her home in the hills. It was a hoarse voice, which seemed to come from far away; a mournful voice and sweet, but in spite of its sweetness there was a strange spell in it and something which called for and demanded submission. She listened, and now, although she knew she had heard it before, she could not tell when or where; it was different from anything she remembered, and more beautiful; and yet, as she listened, her heart beat fast, and she knew not whether it was the voice of a friend or an avenging foe who was singing that hoarse serenade.

She withdrew from the window in fright, but the song grew louder; it called her with sound like that of bugles on a field of battle in the evening when the fight is ended--silvery, manful, and triumphant.

And then her heart beat faster than ever, for she knew that the voice was that of a lover; and she knew that she could not resist his song.

And she looked once more out of the window, and there in the courtyard, dark against one of the gleaming pillars, she saw a tall man muffled in a black cloak, a man whom she recognised. She ran back from the casement and called out in a great terror, but nobody answered her call.

Then across the cobblestones of the yard she heard the tramp of loud footsteps, as though a knight in armour were walking across it; and presently she heard the same heavy tramp on the wide marble steps that led up to her room. Nearer and nearer they came, till she heard a rap like that of a great sword against her door. He knocked so loudly that the noise was like thunder, and yet no one in the palace seemed to be disturbed. She tried to call out once more, but her voice died away in her throat; she tried to run, but she remained motionless.

Then the door was opened wide. And there entered, muffled in a dark cloak so that you could only see his eyes, the minstrel to whom she had given the heart-shaped copper coin that used to hang over her father's hearth. And then all at once she knew that the minstrel was not a foe but a friend, and she stretched out her hand and grasped his hand.

As soon as she did this he threw aside his cloak, and there stood before her a wonderful knight in armour, whose face was bright as snow and whose eyes were like stars. And he took her in his arms and carried her down the broad steps into the courtyard, and there a horse was waiting, and he mounted it and set Snowflower in front of him, and they galloped away through the gates, through the city, and over the plains beyond.

The next day Snowflower could not be found anywhere, and although the whole kingdom was searched far and wide, no trace of her was discovered.

When Snowflower went away from her village, the blacksmith's wife was very sad, although Snowflower had promised to visit her often. But when she woke up on the morning that Snowflower should have wedded the Prince, she was astonished to see that the little copper coin was hanging once more over their hearth, and she felt quite happy once more; for she knew now, although she could not tell why, that all was well with Snowflower.

THE HUNCHBACK, THE POOL AND THE MAGIC RING

There was once upon a time a King and a Queen who had three sons. The two eldest were big and strong, but the third was a cripple and a hunchback, because a wicked fairy, whom the Queen had forgotten to invite to his christening, had cast a spell over him in his cradle. Yet the King and the Queen loved their third son best of all, and this made his brothers jealous. When the three brothers were grown up, the King fell sick, and he knew that he was going to die. And so he called his three sons to him on his deathbed.

"Now that you are big and strong," he said to the two eldest, "it is time you went out into the world to seek your fortune. I will give to each of you a good horse, a suit of armour, a bag of gold, and a sharp sword; and to you," he said to the youngest, "I will give this castle, because you are not strong enough to go and seek your fortune for yourself. So you shall stay at home and look after your mother."

And soon after he had said this he died.

Now the two eldest brothers were very angry because the hunchback had been given the castle, and they said to each other: "Our father was old and feeble and did not know what he was doing: we will not give our brother the castle. Indeed, it would be of no use to him, but we will keep it for ourselves, and we will get rid of him, because it is a disgrace to have a hunchback in the family."

So they told their mother that they were going to take their brother with them, to show him the world, and they promised to look after him carefully. They started the next day, early in the morning, and when they had reached a large forest, they told the hunchback that he must seek his fortune by himself, and they took away his horse from him and his sword and his cloak. And the next day they rode home to the castle and said that their brother had been eaten by a bear in the night, entirely owing to his own fault.

When the young prince was left to himself, he was very sad, and did not know what to do, and he sat down by the side of a pool and cried bitterly. As he was crying, he heard a voice coming out of the pool and asking him what was the matter.

"I am crying," he said, "because I am a hunchback and I have been deserted by my two brothers," and he told all his story. Then he heard the voice laugh softly and say that everything could be put to rights. "Look into the pool," said the voice, "and tell me what you see at the bottom of it."

The hunchback looked, and said that he saw a gold ring.

"You must pull out the gold ring and put it on your finger," said the voice.

The hunchback thrust his arm into the pool and pulled out a gold ring, and no sooner had he put it on his finger than a beautiful woman stood in front of him. She had golden hair which fell to her feet, and large, soft eyes, and he thought she must be a fairy. And so she was: but she had been imprisoned in the pool by the same wicked fairy who had not been invited to the christening of the young Prince.

"You have done me a great service," said the fairy, "and I will not be ungrateful. Look into the pool."

The hunchback looked into the pool and saw his own reflection. But something wonderful had happened, for he was no longer hunchbacked, but far taller and stronger than his brothers, and the handsomest and most gallant-looking young Prince that the world had ever seen.

"Now," said the fairy, "all will be well with you. You have only to go into the world and you will make your fortune; but you must remember carefully what I tell you now. You must not lose the ring which I have given you, and never take it off your finger; and above all things you must never put it back into the pool. For whenever you take it off your finger, you will become a hunchback once more, and if you put it back into the pool, you will remain a hunchback for ever." And so saying the fairy disappeared.

Then the hunchback walked through the forest, whistling for joy; and at sunset he reached a large town. As soon as he reached the town, a large coach drawn by six cream-coloured horses passed him, and in the coach was a beautiful Princess, driving with her father, who was King of the country. Directly she caught sight of the Prince she stopped the coach and begged him to get in, and they drove to the palace. "At last," she said to her father, "I have found a man whom I will consent to marry."

And when the King, her father, learnt who the stranger was, he was very pleased, and offered him the hand of his daughter. And the Prince learned that from far and wide suitors had come to seek the hand of the Princess, but she had never been willing to look at any of them. And as the King was anxious that his daughter should marry, because she had a bad temper, he was very pleased at what had happened.

The Prince consented readily enough to marry so beautiful a Princess; but when they were left alone he told her all his story. The Princess did not believe it, and so as to prove the truth of his words he took off his ring, and he stood before her in his true shape, a cripple and a hunchback.

The Princess screamed and burst into a flood of tears, and abused the poor Prince, and although he had put the ring on again and resumed his splendid shape, she bade him begone out of her sight for ever. "For how could I marry a man," she said, "who might turn into a monster if he happened to lose a ring?"

So the Prince went away with a heavy heart, and started on his travels once more. He travelled far, and visited many cities, and wherever he went he was received with the greatest favour; for no one had ever seen so handsome a Prince, and many kings offered him their daughters in marriage. But the Prince turned a deaf ear now to their offers, and he was sad at heart, for he felt that the magic gift which he had received brought him no happiness, and he knew that he was wearing a mask and deceiving himself and the whole world.

Now it happened that one day during his travels he reached the seashore, and as darkness was falling he asked for shelter from a fisherman who had a hut on the beach. The fisherman bade him welcome, and told his wife to bring him some porridge. And as he sat eating his supper the fisherman's daughter worked at her spinning-wheel in the corner of the room, and sang a song which was like this:--

"He brought me silver, he brought me gold,
I bade him go his way;
My heart was bought and my heart was sold
Upon a summer's day.

He brought me horses and banners bold,
I bade him go his way;
My heart was bought and my heart was sold
Upon a summer's day.

For a sigh, a song, and a tale half-told,
And for a wisp of hay,
My heart was bought and my heart was sold
Upon a summer's day."