Part 1
[Cover Illustration]
[Illustration: Great blue lotos-flowers were covering the brink of the water’s edge.]
_THE GOLDEN HEART_
_&_
_Other Fairy Stories_
BY
VIOLET JACOB
AUTHOR OF “THE SHEEPSTEALERS,” “THE INTERLOPER”
_With Illustrations by_ MAY SANDHEIM
LONDON WILLIAM HEINEMANN
1904
DEDICATED TO THREE LITTLE BOYS, HARRY, EVAN, AND RAYMOND, AND THREE LITTLE GIRLS, MARJORY, SUSAN, AND GWYNETH.
CONTENTS
PAGE THE GOLDEN HEART 1 THE SORCERER’S SONS AND THE TWO PRINCESSES OF JAPAN 45 GRIMAÇON 67 THE DOVECOTE 102 THE PEACOCK’S TAIL 122 THE PELICAN 127 THE CHERRY TREES 146 JACK FROST—_A Story for Very Little Children_ 164
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
GREAT BLUE LOTOS-FLOWERS WERE COVERING THE BRINK TO THE WATER’S EDGE _Frontispiece_ “OH!” CRIED THE LITTLE BOY, “I SEE A DARK THING FAR AWAY IN FRONT” 10 A THING WHICH LOOKED LIKE A HUMAN FIGURE WAS LYING BY A FIRE 20 THEN SHE TURNED HALF-STARTLED AND SAW THE PRINCE 42 THE SORCERER AND THE PRINCESSES 48 THE PROCESSION WAS SEVERAL MILES LONG 56 SHE FOUND HER SITTING AT THE WINDOW WATERING HER FLOWERS 70 A DEADLY COMBAT THEN ENSUED 96 THE DOVECOTE 102 MADDY NOREY SHOWS THE QUEEN THE ROOM BEHIND THE FIERY ROSES 108 “NOW I AM SIMPLY PERFECT,” SAID SHE 122 THAT IS THE MOST CHARMING GIRL I HAVE EVER SEEN 128 HE RAN FORWARD AND HELD HER IN HIS ARMS 142 THE DAFFODIL PRINCESS 146 INSIDE THE HUT THE WITCH WAS SITTING BY THE FIRE 152 IN THE VERY MIDDLE OF THE FEAST THE PRINCE STOOD UP IN HIS PLACE, CALLING ON ALL TO LISTEN 158 HE CAME DOWN ON A WEATHERCOCK, WHICH WAS FIXED ON TOP OF A LARCH-TREE 164
_THE GOLDEN HEART_
_&_
_Other Fairy Stories_
THE GOLDEN HEART
The night lay clear upon the North Sea, but now and then a soft wind came floating by; it whistled through the rigging of a fishing smack in which a little boy lay under a tarpaulin, peeping over the side of the boat down into the water below.
His father had told him to be still and to go to sleep, so he lay looking up at the spangled sky above, and the masts rocking to and fro against the stars as the boat swayed about. Sometimes he thought the tall, dark forms looked like black arms trying to reach the bright lamps and put them out. He did not feel sleepy as he lay by himself and he began to wonder, as he gazed into the water, how deep it was down there, and whether the little fishes among the shells and seaweeds were ever told by their fish-fathers to go to sleep, and, if so, whether they found it as hard to do as he did.
Presently he saw the eyes of a great shining fish staring up at him. It opened its mouth as if it wished to be friendly, but hardly knew how to begin, so the little boy plucked up courage, though he had never met a fish before and was not quite sure how to address one.
“Is it very cold in the sea?” he inquired shyly.
“That depends on what you are accustomed to,” replied the fish. “For my part, I should say it was a particularly warm night for the time of year. What in the world do you find to do in that monstrous boat? Is there anything worth eating up there?”
“It’s very dull,” said the little boy. “My father said I was to go to sleep, but I can’t. I’m not sleepy.”
“Why don’t you come down here?” suggested the fish. “It stands to reason that it must be much more amusing in the water.”
“I should be drowned; I can’t swim like you.”
“How dreadfully ignorant,” remarked the fish.
The little boy was rather hurt at this, and made no reply.
“Well,” continued the hoarse voice from below, “if you like to come with me, I can show you some of the most wonderful things in the world; you can hold by my tail and I’ll pull you along. You can’t drown so long as you don’t let go.”
The little boy was much tempted.
“But are you sure you won’t leave me?” he asked anxiously.
“Goodness, no,” replied the fish, “I’ll see that no harm comes to you. You are evidently a shockingly ignorant child, and it would be real charity to show you something of the world. Come along and don’t be silly.”
The little boy looked round to see that there was no one near, then he slipped over the side and, in another minute, was in the sea and holding firmly to the tail of his new acquaintance.
Away they shot through the clear water; it was not nearly so cold as it had looked, and the rapid motion was very exciting.
On they flew, smoothly and easily; they passed tall ships and curiously-shaped masses of rock sticking up out of the sea. Great twisted pieces of sea-weed floated by them, and the flashing lights of Orion’s Belt seemed suspended from the dark blue arch overhead, while, up in the north, the Northern Lights shot their trembling streamers far into the centre of the sky.
By the time day was dawning they had reached a tract of ocean where there was neither sail nor coast, and where the rolling line of water stretched for miles around.
“Now,” said the fish, “I will show you one of the strangest things in the world. Can you see anything between us and the horizon?”
“I see a dark spot a long way off.”
The light was growing brighter every moment, and pale streaks in the sky began to kindle the sea when the fish and his companion drew near the object of which they had been speaking. In the midst of the heaving water there rose a steep rock; on its grim sides grew neither sea-weed nor anything to give sign of life. There was an oppressive silence hanging over everything, and the water lay dark and still; no little wave played against the relentless stone. On the top of this rock a beautiful woman sat with her hands clasped together. She wore a black robe against which her arms shone like ivory, and her hair flowed in a shower over her shoulders. Now and then she raised her eyes and looked out to sea; they wandered over the horizon and rested with a look of sad expectation upon it, then she sighed and glanced down at something which she held in her hand.
Beside her stood the only living creature excepting herself visible on that desolate place—a gigantic grey cormorant of terrible aspect and size. A gleam of light from the rising sun shot over the waters, and, as it touched the woman’s hair with its first rays, the cormorant flew up into the air. From some hidden place in the rock another bird appeared, and, joining its mate, rose with him far above their bleak abode; then the two sailed away and were soon lost in the distance.
“What does it all mean? Oh, do tell me!” begged the little boy.
“I thought I could show you something surprising,” chuckled the fish; “this is the history of it. I am one of the _very few_ who know anything about it. Inside that rock, in a cavern which is reached by a passage to which no one knows the entrance, sits an old witch; she is very wicked, and is sometimes able to cast dreadful spells upon her enemies. That Princess who sits there is the daughter of a King, whose country is an immense way off, and who once had the ill-luck to offend the old woman. So, when the Princess was a child, she went to the King’s palace and stole her away; here she has kept her sitting, year after year, upon this lonely rock with no one to speak to but the old cormorant. Every day he keeps guard in case someone should come to take her away, and every morning he flies off to fish with his mate, who has a nest just now and young ones in a cave of the rock. Once in two days the hag comes out to bring the Princess food and to ask her whether she sees anyone coming, and when she gets no reply, she laughs and leaves her again.”
“Will she ever get away?” asked the little boy.
“How can I tell?” said the fish. “She has sat there for so long that it doesn’t seem like it. There is only one chance that I can see. She holds in her hand a little heart made of gold; if she could only find someone to whom she could give it, she might be saved. For, whoever possesses it can ask any question, and the heart will answer and tell its owner how to act under all difficulties. But he who takes it has to accept trouble and pain with the gift.”
“But then, why doesn’t she ask it herself how to get away?”
“The heart is of no use to any one but a man,” said the fish.
“And I suppose no man has ever been here?”
“Two or three have come sailing by; one who came was anxious to help the Princess, but, as she was about to throw him the Golden Heart, she told him that if he took it he would have to face as much trouble as a man could bear. So he would not have it and sailed away. But that was years ago—and now, we really can’t stay here any longer, nor do any good if we do—let us be off.”
And he swam away.
The little boy would have liked to stay and speak to the Princess and his eyes were full of tears.
“What are you sniffling at behind there?” exclaimed the fish, who was getting rather tired of his load.
“I am so sorry for her!” he sobbed.
“Dear! Dear! If you cry for all the troubles you see, you will have enough to do; try to think of something else, and, for goodness’ sake, strike out a little with your legs and help me along—I have to do all the work.”
The little boy was so frightened when he heard this that he kicked out with might and main for fear that his protector should shake him off.
When evening was coming on and when they had travelled some distance, they saw a large ship; as she approached, the fish suggested that they should swim alongside, and the little boy was charmed with the idea. They saw that the sails were embroidered with gold and silver, and that, on the prow, there was an immense carved crown glittering with precious stones. Closer and closer she came till they were almost touching her. A man was looking over the bulwark into the water; he was young and very richly dressed, and a sword hung at his side. Over his face was a black mask which hid it completely, leaving only the mouth visible.
“There!” remarked the fish, “look at that man. That is another wonderful sight. He is young and rich and a king’s son, but he chooses to sail about by himself. He is so ugly that he wears a mask day and night and never takes it off, and he roams about on the high seas so that he need see none but his own crew who love him so much that they would go with him anywhere.”
“What a pity,” said the little boy, wondering. “He looks very nice standing up there with those beautiful clothes on. And I can see his mouth; it does not look so very ugly.”
“It’s simply enormous,” replied the fish.
“Oh, I don’t think so—really,” answered the little boy, “it isn’t any bigger than yours, you know.”
“That’s neither here nor there,” said the fish; “and don’t pull my tail so. You hold it so clumsily that I can hardly move.”
“I wish I could see him nearer,” continued the little boy, lost in admiration of the figure above him, “I’ve never seen any one like him.”
“You haven’t seen much,” answered the fish, who had not been best pleased by the allusion to his mouth, “now come along.”
“Oh, wait a minute, do, please! He’s looking at us.”
The Prince was gazing over the bulwark at them.
“Well!” exclaimed the fish, “if you’re so devoted to him you had better stay with him altogether. I’m getting sick of dragging you along like this.”
The poor little boy was horrified and looked imploringly up at the Prince, who called one of his men to see the strange pair. “Lower a boat and fetch me that child,” he said, “and the fish too, if you can.”
When the fish heard this, he began to flounder so violently that he twitched his tail free and swam quickly off, leaving his friend gasping in the waves. The Prince threw off his beautiful coat, plunged into the sea and caught the struggling figure, holding it till the boat picked them both up. Soon they stood safe on deck, dripping with salt water, the little boy sobbing with terror and excitement. “Oh,” he cried, “look! look! your lovely clothes are all spoilt.”
“Never mind, little man, never mind,” laughed the Ugly Prince, “and don’t cry. You are quite safe with me and I have plenty of other clothes in my cabin.”
Then he sent for a great tall sailor, who took the little boy below, where he was undressed and dried, then rolled up in one of the Prince’s cloaks and carried on deck. “Come here,” said the Prince, “and tell me all about yourself.”
The child came up shyly and climbed upon his knee. “And how was it,” continued he, “that you came to be swimming about with that great fish? Little boys don’t travel in that sort of way as a rule.”
His voice was so soft and he stroked the child’s hair so kindly, that the little fellow began to think he was a much nicer friend to have than the fish, with all its knowledge; so he told him of everything that had happened and especially of the marvellous sights he had seen since he slipped over the side of his father’s smack a day ago. When he had finished there was a long silence and he glanced up at the Prince, for he felt, somehow, that he was looking grave. But the black mask hid everything.
In a short time the Ugly Prince set him down and spoke a few words to his helmsman. Then the ship turned slowly round and sailed off in the direction from which the fish had come.
As night drew on they still kept steadily forward, and when the stars had come out and the last light departed, the little boy was put to bed in a beautiful cabin all painted sea-green, with a pale green curtain hanging over the door on which was embroidered a silver crescent moon. He was laid in a soft bed with a quilt of the same colour, and soon he was far away in the land of dreams, dreaming that he was again in the sea, sinking into a world of branching sea-weed and silver sand through which swam the little fishes about which he had so often wondered.
When he opened his eyes next morning the light was peeping in through the port-hole, and his clothes, which had been dried, were lying beside a bath which was waiting for him. He washed and dressed and then went on deck, where the Ugly Prince stood looking out over the ship’s bows. When he saw the child he lifted him up in his arms.
[Illustration: OH CRIED THE LITTLE BOY I SEE A DARK THING FAR AWAY IN FRONT]
“Oh!” cried the little boy. “I see a dark thing far away in front! Why, it is the rock where the Princess is! Are we going there?”
The Prince did not answer.
As the sun rose out of the ocean a short time later, the vessel was drawing very near to the rock which rose, like some dark monster, out of the sea, and the Prince and the little boy were on deck, the latter looking eagerly out for the captive Princess.
There she sat, just as she had sat the day before and all those weary days in the years gone by with her hands clasped over her one hope, the Golden Heart. Two dark spots could be seen in the distant sky growing smaller and smaller; they were the two cormorants flying off for food.
As the Princess saw the ship the colour rushed back into her pale cheeks; she fixed her eyes on the advancing sails, and at last distinguished the tall form of the Ugly Prince standing out against the sea and sky beyond. As the vessel came under the shadow of the rock he looked up at the sweet face above him and told her to have courage, and that he had come to take her from her long imprisonment, back to the world she had left.
“Throw me,” he said, “the Golden Heart that you hold.”
The Princess stood up. “Thank Heaven that the cormorant is gone!” she cried. “He stands there so that, if I throw it to anyone, he may catch it in his beak and rob me of my last chance.”
“But throw it carefully,” begged the little boy, “or the Prince won’t catch it.”
The Prince smiled. “Now,” he called.
“But, before I do so,” said the Princess, “I must tell you this; if you take it, it will bring you pain and sorrow—perhaps more than you can bear. Can you really accept it? Are you willing to take the trouble that must come?”
The Ugly Prince simply held out his hands. “Throw,” he said.
The little boy thought he had never seen anybody look so noble as he did, standing there with his outstretched hands and his masked face turned up to the lovely, sad figure above him.
A flash pierced the air, and the Heart lay safe in the hands of the Ugly Prince.
“And now,” he said as he held it, “remember that there is nothing I will not do for your sake; whatever this thing tells me to do, that will I do; wherever it tells me to go, there will I go; and, as long as there is life in me, I will not rest until I have accomplished my end.”
The evil birds were now seen returning over the waters, and at the sight of the ship lying anchored under the rock, they were dreadfully disturbed, and made such a flapping of wings that the witch came up from her lair to see what could be the matter. When she saw the vessel her fury knew no bounds, and when she observed that the Golden Heart was gone, she nearly wrung the old cormorant’s neck.
“The next time you go away,” she cried, “I will sit here and watch myself! And, as for you,” she went on, turning to the Princess, “you need never think you can escape, for you shall be guarded day and night!”
But the Princess said nothing.
Meantime, the Ugly Prince was taking counsel of his treasure; he looked long and curiously at it; then, as he felt a little tremor fluttering between his palms, he inquired of it what he was to do to save the Princess from her bondage. A radiance like a flame rose all round the Heart, and a small, soft voice spoke. It was so low that he had to bend down his head to catch the words. “To-night,” it said, “you must watch on deck until morning, and when the two cormorants fly away at sunrise, be careful to notice from which part of the rock the female bird comes; then, when they have started on their flight, slip down into the water and swim to the place. It is a large cave, black and gloomy, but, nevertheless, swim in. The water is deep at the entrance, but when you have gone forward a few strokes, you will find a great stone rising a couple of feet above its level; let your eyes get accustomed to the darkness and you will see upon the top of this stone the cormorant’s nest. Climb to it very softly, for in it will be the three little cormorants asleep. Be sure you do not wake them. Beside them you will find three grey feathers which you must take; the first feather will give you the power of becoming invisible when you please, the second will enable you to see in the dark, and the third will enable you to understand the language of birds. When you have secured them, make yourself invisible and stay in the cavern until the mother-bird comes home. Then, keep your ears open to hear all that passes.”
The voice ceased, and the Prince, knowing he would be told no more, buttoned the Golden Heart into his doublet and prepared to wait patiently till night should come and he could take up his post on deck to watch for the coming sunrise.
The hours wore on and day slowly faded. When the dark set in he lay down, with his eyes fixed on the heavens, hardly able to bear the time which lay between him and the morning, and, when dawn came creeping on, he distinguished the dim figure of the old cormorant at his post.
He stood as though carved out of the stone beneath him until the sun’s disc appeared over the horizon-line, when, with a loud flapping, he rose in the air. The Ugly Prince lay looking at the rock as though his life depended upon it, and, from out of a deep shadow in the right side of the huge mass, the mother-bird came flying to join her mate. He kept his eyes on the spot till the last rush of wings had died upon the air, then he looked up at the Princess and plunged into the sea.
The green water had a cold chill which struck him to the marrow, but he swam steadily on, stroke after stroke, till he reached the mouth of a rugged cavern where the rock towered above his head as though poised for a moment ere it fell to crush him to atoms; and, through the darkness, he saw the outline of the flat-topped stone described by the Golden Heart.