Fifty-Two Stories For Girls Part 67

"I must go," he cried, "and bring them here! I must be off to search for them, away ... away ... at the back of the mountain."

Then the old wives insisted on his waiting and resting the night there; for he had need of sleep, he was so tired after walking and bathing, dancing and weeping. And they gave him a nice, spruce, dimity-curtained bed to sleep in; and presented him with a beautiful suit of new garments for the morrow; "for," they said, "they had been at his christening, and it was easy to see that the good Dame Ursula, wherever she had been all these years, had brought her boy up well."

Lionel was fatigued, and shut his eyes at once for the night; but, ere slumber overtook him, he heard distinctly the old wives' gossip by his bedside.

"What a shame it was," said they, "of My Lord Lackaday to turn away poor Martin as he did, and then transform the magnificent palace garden into a fishpond!"

"But he was punished for it," whispered another. "They say an 'evil spell' hangs over his only child, the lovely princess--the 'Lady Lilias'

as she is called. They say some creature from below the cursed fishpond is to marry her--some dreadful beast no doubt. And the king is in terror, and spends his time fis.h.i.+ng there day and night."

The words awakened a strange curiosity in Lionel's heart; they rang in his ears, and mingled with his dreams the whole night through; and it seemed to him as if he and his parents were, in some way, bound up with the fate of this poor young princess and her unhappy father, the king.

The following morning he donned the brave new garments they had given him, and went forth to look at the park and the palace he had so often heard of, before starting back to the gold-mine.

He discovered the royal entrance without a.s.sistance. But what was his surprise to see, crouched on the roadside near it, a being which looked this time just what she was, a wicked fairy with an evil eye! She uncoiled herself, and stood up, straight and tall, before him. She gave a malicious smile, and simpered forth these words: "Beware, young man, of entering in there! That is the royal demesne, and no stranger intrudes unpunished. None so poor and so mean as thou art dares be seen within those precincts."

"My parents have taught me that _to tell lies is mean_! And thou hast told me enough!" cried Lionel, indignantly.

At his words the creature vanished from before him; and on the spot where she had stood he saw an ugly bush of deadly nightshade.

Then he boldly entered the royal park, and walked in thoughtful silence till the stone work of the ancient castle walls met his view. At one side was a venerable shady lime walk, and Lionel perceived a maiden slowly gliding down it, attired in white, with golden hair, much longer than his own, and eyes of an azure blue.

"Are you the spellbound Lady Lilias?" asked Lionel. "And where is the lake that was once a lovely garden?"

"Oh, I dare not go there," sighed the maiden; "not even to cull the sweet white water-lilies I wish so much, because my father fears I may meet some creature from below the water. Didst thou ever hear the like?

But I think I might go with thee," she added wistfully, taking Lionel's hand. "No vile creature can harm me when thou art by my side!"

Her innocent, confiding words captivated Lionel's heart, and he exclaimed, "I will protect you, Lady Lilias, from every danger."

Then she led him to the great artificial lake at the back of the royal mansion; and there, sure enough, lay the king stretched out his full length upon the bank, with his fis.h.i.+ng-rod dangling in the water.

Near the margin of the lake grew lovely white water-lilies, and the Lady Lilias stooped to gather them. But her father was all alarmed on beholding her approach the spot which fate had connected with so much danger for his child.

"My daughter, my Lilias!" he cried out, "when I have fished up the creature from below the lake that waits to marry thee, I will kill it, and then thou may'st wander as thou wilt. But oh, keep far from the water's edge, my child!"

"Ah, here is a _Lion_ will guard thy _Lily_, father dear," returned the girl laughing, and she presented young Lionel to the king.

But, at this instant, a violent tugging was perceptible at the end of the monarch's angling-rod; and he rose in great excitement to draw in his line, which this time seemed to have hooked some extraordinary booty.

Lionel ran forward, and a.s.sisted the king to land it.

And what was the wondrous fish? A little tiny fairy-body all laughing and s.h.i.+ning like a mermaid.

"I have come," she began gaily, "from the bottom of the lake, but your Majesty need not fear that fair Lady Lilias will fall in love with an old fairy like me. Yet there stands one at her side, my G.o.dson, young Lionel, old Martin the gardener's son, who has indeed come also from beneath the lake; and deeper down than I. For you must know that below your Majesty's feet, and below the royal palace and this park and pond, there are workmen grovelling sordidly for gold, and the danger is, that some fine morning both the palace and the hamlet may be undermined, and fall into the pit that they are digging."

"Oh," cried the king greatly relieved, "then my Lilias shall marry young Lionel! He is a goodly youth; and my heart shall be at rest about my daughter. And now, good Fairy, that I fear no longer an ugly monster for my child, I shall fish no more to-day, but inquire into these things, that threaten the safety of my kingdom!"

Lady Lilias and "My Lord Lionel," as he was now called, were married at once; for the good fairy declared, _a good thing could never be done too soon_.

The marriage was a grand one, as became a royal princess of the great house of Primus Lackaday; and immediately after the ceremony, by Lionel's desire, the young pair drove in a gla.s.s-coach, drawn by eight swift chargers, through the forest, Lilias bearing in her hands a large posy of water-lilies--away, past the cascade, and on, to the opening of the gold-mine, at the back of the mountain.

An order was sent down in the basket, by a special messenger, bidding old Martin and Dame Ursula ascend to meet their Lionel and his n.o.ble bride.

As it was, the poor old couple had been searching in anguish for their son; and now, weary and heavy-hearted, they had arrived just at the foot of the opening when the news came to them.

Then the sudden reaction, and the sight of the brand-new silk and velvet garments Lionel sent down for them, almost killed them with joy. "'Tis my _Lionel's voice_ I hear!" cried Dame Ursula as they were being drawn up in the basket.

"Ah me, the odour of my flowers after twenty years!" sobbed out Martin, the tears trickling down his furrowed cheeks at the recognition of his favourites.

And so they were all happy again; and Lionel's fortune was made, although his father found no heaps of gold.

As for the king, _in three days_ he was back to his fis.h.i.+ng again, lying on the bank of the great pond, as happy as ever he was in the old times when he was only "My Lord Lackaday." He said the land was too much trouble for him; Lilias and Lionel might rule it as they thought fit.

And so these two _really_ carried out all _he_ had promised to do.

The good little fairy-body rarely appeared in the country after Lionel's wedding-day; for the people were all happy now, "and," as she declared, "had no need of her."

And then it happened that one day at noontide, when the sun was s.h.i.+ning overhead with a dazzling heat, and all the air was warm and drowsy, the king, who had been angling since early morning, without catching the smallest minnow, and had fallen fast asleep, lost his balance, and rolled down the sloping bank into the water, and disappeared. They dredged the lake for his body in vain. No trace of him was to be discovered, although they sent the most expert divers down to search.

But, strange to say, every evening from that time forward, just about sunset, a little bird with plumage gay, called "_The Kingfisher_," might be seen to haunt the margin of the lake, ready, with its pointed beak, to hook up the tiny fishes, that glided in shoals at nightfall near the surface of the water.

III.

CASPAR THE COBBLER, OF COBWEB CORNER.

In the centre of a certain old city in the Land of Langaffer stood a king's castle, surrounded by a high turreted wall, with many little gablets and long windows, and balconies adorned with flowers. A courtyard full of soldiers was inside. Like the city, the castle was picturesque, with its quaint architecture, its nooks and turns, its solid masonry and stone-carving. The interior must have been beautiful indeed; for the king, who had a very excellent taste, could scarcely be induced to leave his royal home even for an hour, so much did he love it. He was wont to inhale the fresh air every morning on the southern parapet where the clematis trailed over the antique coping, and, in the long summer twilight he would enjoy gazing at the east, where the sinking sun had spread its golden hue over his dominions, from the tiny top turret pointing to the woods and mountains that lay away beyond the city.

Now, in close proximity to the castle were some of the darkest and narrowest streets of the city. One of these was Cobweb Corner; and here, in a small attic, dwelt a humpbacked, plain-visaged little man, who the whole day long loved to think about the king. He was called "Caspar the Cobbler, of Cobweb Corner."

The people all knew Caspar, but they did not know that Caspar's secret ambition was to become some day cobbler to the king.

Caspar's father and mother had been poor folk, like himself; and when he came into the world, a sickly, plain-featured babe, his mother sent for the very last of the fairies in the land to be her child's G.o.dmother, and to bequeath him some wonderful gift which might make up for his lack of strength and beauty.

"What an ugly child," said the fairy; "yet somebody will love him, and he may become beautiful--and, when all else forsake him, why, then the most graceful of the birds shall be his friends."

Poor Caspar's mother considered that she had accomplished a great thing in persuading the fairy to act as G.o.dmother; but his father thought he could do better for his son in teaching him his own handicraft to the best of his ability.

And therefore, with an extraordinary amount of care and patience, the old man instructed his little lad how to manage his awl; and, ere he died, had the satisfaction of knowing that his Caspar bade fair to become as clever a cobbler as any in the city.

Several years had pa.s.sed, and Caspar lived on alone in the little attic near the castle wall. The way up to his room was dark and narrow, up rickety stairs, and along crooked pa.s.sages; but, once at the top, there was plenty of cheerful light streaming in through the dormer-window, and the twittering of the birds, as they built their nests in the eaves, had something pleasant and gay.

The feathered songsters were Caspar's most constant companions, and he understood every word they said. He confided to them all his secrets, amongst others, what a proud man he should be, the day he made a pair of shoes for the king! Other secrets he imparted also to the birds, which the city folk down in the streets guessed little about.

Many and many a time, as Caspar sat so much alone, he would sigh, and wish that his fairy-G.o.dmother would come and see him sometimes. But, alas, that could not be, for the king had given strict orders that the sentinels posted at the city gates should allow "no fairy bodies" in.

Even the very last of the kind was, by a new law, banished to far-distant fairyland. "No more magic wands, no more wonders nowadays,"

sighed poor Caspar; "nothing can be won but by hard and constant work, work, work!"