"It would be impossible to describe all she went through during the seven days which pa.s.sed before she reached the sea of gla.s.s. She saw some strange and wonderful sights, for in those days the world was very different from what it is now. She was often tired and hungry, thankful for a cup of milk or crust of bread from those she happened to meet on the way. But her courage never failed her, and at last, on the morning of the eighth day, she saw shining before her in the sunlight the great silent sea of gla.s.s of which she had been told.
"It would have been hopeless to attempt to cross it without fairy aid, for it was polished more brightly than any mirror, and so hard that no young Princess"s bones could have borne a fall on its cruel surface. But with the magic shoes there was less than no difficulty, for no sooner had the Princess slipped her feet into them than they turned into skates, and very wonderful skates, for they possessed the power of enabling their wearer to glide along with the greatest swiftness. The Princess had never skated in her life, and she was delighted.
""Next to flying," she said to herself, "nothing could be pleasanter,"
and she was almost sorry when her skim across the sea of gla.s.s was over, and she found herself at the foot of the hill of ice.
"She looked upwards with something like despair. It was a terrible ascent to attempt, for the mountain was all but straight, so steep were its sides of hard, clear, sparkling ice. The Princess looked at her feet, the magic shoes had already disappeared; she looked at the staff she still held in her hand--how could a stick help her up such a mountain? and half impatiently, half hopelessly, she threw it from her.
Instantly it stretched itself out, growing wider and wider, the notches in the wood expanding, till it had taken the shape of a roughly-made ladder of irregular steps, hooked on to the ice by the sharp spike at its end, and the Princess, ashamed of her discouragement, mounted up the steps without difficulty, and as she reached the top one, of itself the ladder pushed up before her, so that she could mount straight up without hesitation.
"She stepped forward bravely. It took a long time, even though she had the fairy aid, and by the time she reached the top of the hill night had fallen, and but for the light of the stars, she would not have known where to step. A long plain stretched before her--no trees or bushes even broke the wide expanse. There was no shelter of any kind, and the Princess found herself obliged to walk on and on, for the wind was very cold, and she dared not let herself rest. This night and the next day were the hardest part of all the journey, and seemed even more so, because the Princess had hoped that the sea of gla.s.s and the hill of ice were to be the worst of her difficulties. More than once she was tempted to crack the nut, the last of the old woman"s presents, but she refrained, saying to herself she might yet be in greater need, and she walked on and on, though nearly dead with cold and fatigue, till late in the afternoon. Then at last, far before her still, she saw gleaming the lights of a city, and, encouraged by the sight, she gathered her courage together and pressed on, till, at the door of a little cottage at the outskirts of the town, she sank down with fatigue. An old woman, with a kind face, came out of the house and invited her to enter and rest.
""You look sorely tired, my child," she said. "Have you travelled far?"
""Ah yes!" replied the poor Princess, "very far. I am nearly dead with fatigue;" and indeed she looked very miserable. Her beautiful fair hair was all tumbled and soiled, her poor little feet were scratched and blistered, her black dress torn and draggled--she looked far more like a beggar-maiden than like a princess. But yet, her pretty way of speaking and gentle manners showed she was not what she seemed, and when she had washed her face and combed her hair, the old woman looked at her with admiration.
""Tis a pity you have not a better dress," she said, "for then you could have gone with me to see the rejoicings in the town for the marriage of our Prince."
""Is your Prince to be married to-day?" asked the Princess.
""No, not to-day--to-morrow," said the old woman. "But the strange thing is that it is not yet known who is to be his bride. The Prince has only lately returned to his home, for, for many years, he has been shut up by a fairy spell in a beautiful palace in the north, and now that the spell is broken and he is restored to his parents, they are anxious to see him married. But he must still be under a spell of some kind, they say, for though he has all that heart can wish, he is ever sad and silent, and as if he were thinking of something far away. And he has said that he will marry no princess but one who can catch three golden b.a.l.l.s at a time, as if young princesses were brought up to be jugglers! Nevertheless, all the princesses far and wide have been practising their best at catching b.a.l.l.s, and to-morrow the great feasts are to begin, and she who catches best is to be chosen out of all the princesses as the bride of our Prince."
"The poor Princess listened with a beating heart to the old woman"s talk. There could be no doubt as to who the Prince of this country was.
""I have come but just in time," she said to herself, and then she rose, and thanking her hostess for her kindness, said she must be going.
""But where are you going, you poor child?" said the old woman. "You look far too tired to go farther and for two or three days all these rejoicings will make the country unpleasant for a young girl to travel through alone. Stay with me till you are rested."
"The Princess thanked her with tears in her eyes for her kindness. "I have nothing to reward you with," she said, "but some day I may be able to do so" and then she thankfully accepted her offer.
""And to-morrow," said the old woman, "you must smarten yourself up as well as you can, and then we shall go out to see the gay doings."
"But the Princess lay awake all night thinking what she should do to make herself known to her faithful Prince.
"The next day the old woman went out early to hear all about the festivities. She came back greatly excited.
""Come quickly," she said. "The crowd is so great that no one will notice your poor clothes. And, indeed, among all the pretty girls there will be none prettier than you," she added, looking admiringly at the Princess, who had arranged her beautiful hair and brushed her soiled dress, and who looked sweeter than ever now that she was rested and refreshed. "There are three princesses who have come to the feast," she went on, "the first from the south, the second from the east, the third from the west, each more beautiful than another, the people say. The trial of the golden b.a.l.l.s is to be in the great hall of the palace, and a friend of mine has promised me a place at one of the windows which overlook it, so that we can see the whole;" and the Princess, feeling as if she were in a dream, rose up to accompany the old woman, her b.a.l.l.s and her precious nut in her pocket.
"They made their way through the crowd and placed themselves at the window, as the old woman had said. The Princess looked down at the great hall below, all magnificently decorated and already filled with spectators. Suddenly the trumpet sounded, and the Prince in whose honour was all the rejoicing entered. At sight of him--her own Prince indeed, but looking so strangely pale and sad that she would hardly have recognised him--the Princess could not restrain a little cry.
""What is it?" said the old woman.
""A pa.s.ser-by trod on my foot," said the Princess, fearful of attracting attention. And the old woman said no more, for at this moment another blast of trumpets announced the arrival of the princesses, who were to make the trial of the b.a.l.l.s. The first was tall and dark, with raven tresses and brilliant, flashing eyes. She was dressed in a robe of rich maize colour, and as she took her place on the dais she looked round her, as if to say, "Who can compete with me in beauty or in skill?" And she was the Princess of the south.
"The second was also tall, and her hair was of a deep rich brown, and her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks rosy. She was dressed in bright pink, and laughed as she came forward, as if sure of herself and her attractions. And she was the Princess of the east.
"The third moved slowly, and as if she cared little what was thought of her, so confident was she of her pre-eminence. She wore a blue robe, and her face was pale and her eyes cold, though beautiful. And her hair had a reddish tinge, but yet she too was beautiful. And she was the Princess of the west.
"The Prince bowed low to each, but no smile lit up his grave face, and his glance rested but an instant on each fair Princess as she approached.
""Are these ladies all?" he asked, in a low voice, as if expecting yet more. And when the answer came, "Yes, these are all," a still deeper melancholy settled on his face, and he seemed indifferent to all about him.
"Then the trial began. The Prince had three golden b.a.l.l.s, one of which he offered to each Princess. They took them, and each threw one back to him. Then one after another, as quick as lightning, he threw all three to the yellow Princess. She caught them all and threw them back; again he returned them, but the first only, reached her hand, the second and third fell to the ground, and with another low bow the Prince turned from her, and her proud face grew scarlet with anger. The pink Princess fared no better. She was laughing so, as if to show her confidence, that she missed the third ball, even at the first throw, and when the Prince turned also from her she laughed again, though this time her laughter was not all mirth. Then the cold blue Princess came forward. She caught the b.a.l.l.s better, but at the third throw, one of them rising higher than the others, she would not trouble herself to stretch her arm out farther, so it fell to the ground, and as the Prince turned from her likewise, a great silence came over the crowd.
"Suddenly a cry arose. "A fourth Princess," the people shouted, and the old woman up at the window was so eager to see the new-comer that she did not notice that her companion had disappeared. She had watched the failure of the two first Princesses, then seeing what was coming she had quietly made her way through the crowd to a hidden corner behind the great pillars of the hall. There, her hands trembling with eagerness, she drew forth from the magic nut, which she had cracked with her pretty teeth, a wonderful fairy robe of spotless white. In an instant her black dress was thrown to her feet, and the white garment, which fitted her as if by magic, had taken its place. Never was Princess dressed in such a hurry, but never was toilette more successful. And as the cry arose of "A fourth Princess" she made her way up the hall. From one end to the other she came, rapidly making her way through the crowd, which cleared before her in surprise and admiration, for as she walked she threw before her, catching them ever as she went, her golden b.a.l.l.s. Her fair hair floated on her shoulders, her white robe gleamed like snow, her sweet face, flushed with hope and eagerness, was like that of a happy child, her eyes saw nothing but the one figure standing at the far end of the hall, the figure of the Prince, who, as the cry reached his ears, started forward with a hope he hardly dared encourage, holding out his hands as she came nearer and yet nearer in joyfulness of welcome.
"But she waved him back--then, taking her place where the other Princesses had stood, she threw her b.a.l.l.s, one, two, three; in an instant they were caught by the Prince, and returned to her like flashes of lightning over and over again, never failing, never falling, as if attached by invisible cords, till at last a great cry arose from the crowds, and the Prince led forward, full in the view of the people, his beautiful bride, his true Princess.
"Then all her troubles were forgotten, and every one rejoiced, save perhaps the three unsuccessful Princesses, who consoled themselves by saying there was magic in it, and so possibly there was. But there is more than one kind of magic, and some kinds, it is to be hoped, the world will never be without. And messengers were sent to summon to the wedding the father and mother of the Princess, who all this time had been in doubt and anxiety as to the fate of their dear child. And the kind old woman who had sheltered her in her poverty and distress was not forgotten."
The voice stopped--for a minute or two the children sat silent, not sure if they were to hear anything else. Strangely enough, as the story went on, it seemed more and more as if it were Marcelline"s voice that was telling it, and at last Hugh looked up to see if it was still the white lady, whose knee his head was resting on. Jeanne too looked up at the same moment, and both children gave a little cry of surprise. The white lady had disappeared, and it was indeed Marcelline who was in her place. The white room, the white chairs, the white cats, the spinning-wheel, and the pointed windows, had all gone, and instead there was old Marcelline with her knitting-needles gently clicking in a regular way, that somehow to Hugh seemed mixed up with his remembrance of the soft whirr of the wheel, her neatly frilled cap round her face, and her bright dark eyes smiling down at the children. Hugh felt so sorry and disappointed that he shut his eyes tight and tried to go on dreaming, if indeed dreaming it was. But it was no use. He leant his face against Marcelline"s soft white ap.r.o.n and tried to fancy it the fairy lady"s fairy robe; but it was no use. He had to sit up and look about him.
"Well," said Marcelline, "and didn"t you like the story?"
Hugh looked at Jeanne. It couldn"t be a dream then--there _had_ been a story, for if he had been asleep, of course he couldn"t have heard it.
He said nothing, however--he waited to see what Jeanne would say. Jeanne tossed back her head impatiently.
"Of course I liked it," she said. "It"s a beautiful story. But, Marcelline, how did you turn into yourself--_was_ it you all the time?
Why didn"t you leave us with the white lady?"
Hugh was so pleased at what Jeanne said that he didn"t mind a bit about Marcelline having taken the place of the white lady. Jeanne was the same as he was--that was all he cared about. He jumped up eagerly--they were in Jeanne"s room, close to the fire, and both Jeanne and he had their little red flannel dressing-gowns on.
"How did these come here?" he said, touching the sleeve of his own one.
"Yes," said Jeanne. "And where are our wings, if you please, Mrs.
Marcelline?"
Marcelline only smiled.
"I went to fetch you," she said, "and of course I didn"t want you to catch cold on the way back."
But that was _all_ they could get her to say, and then she carried them off to bed, and they both slept soundly till morning.
CHAPTER XI.
DUDU"S OLD STORY.
"It was not a story, however, But just of old days that had been."
CHILD NATURE.
It was queer, but so it was. The children said very little to each other the next day of their new adventures. Only Hugh felt satisfied that this time little Jeanne had forgotten nothing; daylight Jeanne and moonlight Jeanne were the same. Yet he had a feeling that if he said much about it, if he persisted in trying to convince Jeanne that he had been right all through, he might spoil it all. It would be like seizing the fairy lady"s cobweb threads roughly, and spoiling them, and finding you had nothing left. He felt now quite content to let it all be like a pretty dream which they both knew about, but which was not for everyday life.
Only one impression remained on his mind. He got the greatest wish to learn to throw b.a.l.l.s like the princess of the Brown Bull story, and for some days every time they went out, he kept peering in at the toy-shop windows to see if such a thing as golden b.a.l.l.s was to be had. And at last Jeanne asked him what he was always looking for, and then he told her.
She agreed with him that golden b.a.l.l.s would be a very pretty play, but she was afraid such a thing could not be found.