Fifty-Two Stories For Girls Part 66

Then suddenly, as the roots and fibres of the ill-omened plant with a crackling noise were released from the soil, a wonderful being, which had been buried underneath it--a wicked fairy with an evil eye--uncoiled herself, and rose up straight and tall before him. She gave a malicious smile, and simpered out flattering words to the half-bewildered labourer.

"A thousand thanks, O n.o.ble knight, for relieving a spell-bound lady!

Pray let me know, is there aught that I can do to indicate my grat.i.tude?"

"Tell me how I can earn my daily bread?" stammered forth poor Martin.

"Daily bread!" cried the fairy, tossing her head contemptuously. "I can tell thee, gallant sir, where to find gold, ay, more real yellow gold than the king and all his court ever dreamed of! I have not been pent up under that lauristinus all these years for nothing! I know a secret or two."

Martin's eyes grew dilated, and his breath came and went, and he seized the fairy by the wrist. "Answer me," he gasped out hoa.r.s.ely, "where's all that gold to be got? No palavering, or I'll bury you up again, and plant that same lauristinus-bush on your head!"

The fairy rolled her evil eye, and gave a forced laugh. "At the back of yonder mountain!" she cried, pointing with her thin, long hand to a hill whose summit overlooked the park. "The way thou must take is through the forest, till thou comest to the charcoal-burners' huts. Then follow a crooked path leading to the left, round to the back of the hill. Thou wilt find an opening in the earth. _The gold is there!_"

Martin scarcely waited for the last words. He loosened his grasp of the fairy's wrist, and hastened full speed home to his wife and child.

"To a hole at the back of the mountain to look for gold!" Poor Dame Ursula was sorely puzzled when her good-man arrived all excited, and bade her make a bundle of what clothes she possessed, bring the baby Lionel, and follow him to push their fortune at the back of the mountain.

Now at the back of the mountain there was a deep mine where many people, men, women and children, were searching after, and finding, gold. Only they were obliged to descend deep, deep into the bowels of the earth, where all was dark, save for the pale flickering of little lanterns, which they were allowed to carry down.

Poor Dame Ursula wept bitterly at the notion of taking her darling little Lionel into such a dismal pit. But there was no help for it; down they must go, and live like the rest at the bottom of the gloomy mine, whilst Martin, with a pickaxe, wrought for gold.

... The days pa.s.sed, and the weeks pa.s.sed, and the months, and the _years_! And little Lionel was growing up amidst the dross. His long hair was filthy, and matted together, and his skin was always stained with the clay. His parents could scarcely know whether he was a lovely boy or not. It was so dark down there, that his mother could not show his blue eyes to the neighbours; yet she ever kept him by her side, for fear of losing him, and also because she dreaded he might learn bad ways from the gold-diggers--to curse and swear like them, and tell lies, and steal other people's treasures.

And poor Martin dug from year-end to year-end, in the weary hope of some day lighting on a great heap of wealth.

The time dragged slowly on, and Lionel's father was getting old and weak, and his pickaxe fell with feeble, quavering strokes into the earth; and Lionel's poor mother was growing blind with constantly peering after her son through the half-obscurity of their underground abode.

Then one morning she missed him altogether, having mistaken for him another youth, whom she followed and then found with bitter anguish to be not her boy. Thus Lionel was alone; and he, too, searched for his mother, and, in so doing, became completely lost in the mine.

On and on he wandered, through endless subterraneous corridors, until at last he spied a feeble glimmer before him. He never remembered to have been here before, or to have seen this light. It was the entrance to the mine.

There was a large basket, with two old men standing in it; and they told Lionel that they were about to be taken up into the daylight.

"Oh, let me go with you!" cried Lionel. "Take me also to the daylight, if only for a little while!"

They hoisted him into the basket; and immediately several unseen hands from above drew all three right up, out of the dark gold mine. The pale, thin ray grew stronger, broader, brighter as they ascended; and, at the mouth of the mine, a perfect flood of golden suns.h.i.+ne overwhelmed Lionel, who now held his hands across his brow, and felt painfully dazzled.

"Young man," said a voice beside him, in mournful accents, "this upper air is not for thee. Go down again to the shady retreat to which thou art accustomed."

It was an aged female that spoke; she sat on the ground all clad in a sooty garment.

"Not for me!" cried Lionel, bursting into tears; "and why should it not be for me as well as for others?"

But just at this instant a fairy-like thing in white glided past the youth, and whispered, "Heed her not, she is an evil genius! Hie thee, young man, for shelter to yonder wood; from its leafy shade thou canst behold the lovely earth with its verdant meadows, rich foliage and brilliant flowers, and the soft, fleecy clouds embracing one another in the azure sky overhead. Never fear, it is all for thee; thine eyes were meant to gaze on it."

Lionel ran, and his young heart bounded within him for joy. He felt like some blind person who sees again for the first time.

All through those dismal years down in the mine his mother had told him how lovely the suns.h.i.+ne was, and the soft green gra.s.s; and how pure and sweet the country air; but he had little dreamed it could be so delightful, so beautiful as this!

The forest stood before him with its thousands of singing-birds, and its carpet of many-coloured leaves and wild flowers. He would enter in there.

Suddenly a croaking sound from a branch overhead arrested his attention, and Lionel saw a great magpie staring down at him with dark, piercing eyes.

"Halt!" cried the magpie, "nor enter this wood upon the peril of thy life! Here are lions and tigers, bears and wolves, that will rend thee to pieces."

He was startled and troubled for a moment; but at once his eye caught sight of a pretty little mocking-bird, that laughed like a human being, and shook its tiny head at him.

"_She_ doesn't believe you, anyhow," said Lionel to the magpie. "Nor will I." And he walked away right into the forest.

As he went he stopped to examine the feathery-looking ferns, and the wondrous velvety moss that grew on the roots of the trees. By-and-by a rus.h.i.+ng noise was heard, which became louder as Lionel proceeded. Could that be the wild beasts of which the magpie had warned him? He stood still with fast-beating heart and listened.

But the thought of the fairy-like voice and the gay little mocking-bird encouraged him, and he pressed forward to see what that rus.h.i.+ng noise could mean.

The next instant found young Lionel by the side of a majestic waterfall, standing with parted lips and rounded eyes, gazing before him in a bewilderment of admiration. The cascades leaped laughingly from rock to rock, and were lost in a limpid pool; then flowed away as a gentle, rippling brook.

"How lovely!" gasped Lionel; and he bent forward, and looked into the placid surface of the water in the rocky basin. But what did he behold there? A vision that appalled him, and caused him to start back abashed--_himself_, all grimy, with his matted hair and besmeared face!

For he had still the dress of the gold mine clinging to him; and he wept for shame to feel himself so ugly in a spot where all was beauty.

Lionel stood and gazed on the silver stream with his wondering eyes; he observed the little birdies come down quite fearlessly to quench their thirst, and lave their tiny bodies in the cooling drops. Then he, too, trembling at his own temerity, bathed himself in the crystal pool, and came forth fair and s.h.i.+ning, with his sunny locks waving on his shoulders.

And now he continued his path through the forest with a happy heart; for, what if his garments _were_ old and mud-stained, he felt that he himself was fresh and comely!

Young Lionel gathered a nosegay as he went, harebells and violets, oxlips and anemones; thinking all the while of the tales his mother oft had told him about his father's skill in flowers. And heartily he laughed at the frolics of the cunning little squirrels he spied for the first time among the branches over his head.

At last he heard the echo of many voices and the sounds of merry-making, and paused, hesitating and timid. Whence came all this laughter and these cries of mirth? Surely not from the voice of one being, a sallow-looking female attired in gaudy garments, like a gipsy, who now came along his path.

"Turn, n.o.ble sir, and come with me," she cried, "and I will tell thee thy fortune!"

But Lionel liked not her artful eyes, so he only said, "What sounds are those?"

"They are the inhabitants of the country," answered the female vaguely; "but beware of them, young stranger, they will surely take thy life."

"But I must see them," cried Lionel, "their voices please my ears! They seem to be very happy."

"Such happiness is not for thee, young man!" shrieked the fortune-teller angrily. "Be warned, and return from whence thou camest; else these country clowns, when they behold thy miserable attire, will stone thee to death, as a thief or a highwayman."

Lionel was shocked; yet the leer of the gipsy's eye made him think of the lying magpie. So he left her, and hastened on, and, behold! there stood before him the village maypole, bedecked with roses and ribbons, and a living garland of youths and fair maidens dancing round it.

They had a lovely little fairy-body in their midst, and were entreating her to be their "May-Queen," but laughingly she broke away from them all, and declared she had her duties elsewhere--other young folks in another hamlet to render happy. She nodded in a friendly, familiar way to Lionel, who waited, shyly looking on, and motioned to him with her little wand to join the party round the May-pole.

Far from repulsing him with sneers and jests, or "stoning him to death,"

the young people were very kind to Lionel; and, taking his hand, welcomed him into their chain of dancers.

And when the frolics were at an end, and each one satiated with happiness and excitement, they brought him to their festal board, and gave him to eat and drink.

Then the good old wives of the hamlet gathered round, and began to question the stranger youth, inquiring his name and whence he came. When they heard that he was called "Lionel," and his father "Martin," they held up their hands with astonishment, and nodded their heads to one another, and cried out, "Dame Ursula's son! Dame Ursula's babe, that was christened Lionel, the day Lord Lackaday became king! Well to be sure!

And where is Dame Ursula now? And Martin the gardener? And where have they hidden themselves all these long years?" cried the old wives of the hamlet in a breath.

But Lionel wept bitterly, as he thought of his mother and father far down in the bottom of the gold-mine; and at the same time he was ashamed to tell the village people where they were.