Part 6

The Queen, who had espied the Princess’s marvellous hair, was enchanted with the sight, and at once thought she would like to have her for a maid-of-honour. “Such a person in my train would make me the eighth wonder of the world,” she said to herself.

“Will you come back with me to the palace?” she inquired aloud. “I will admit you into my household.”

Moonflower fell upon her knees and thanked her.

“Get into the chariot,” said the Queen, “and let us be off!”

“But we must have him too,” said the King, pointing to Grimaçon, “for he is a brave little fellow and speaks well.” And he directed one of the men-at-arms to place him before him on his horse.

“This is the second ride of the sort I have had lately,” observed Grimaçon to himself, “but I think it is likely to end better than the last!”

When they arrived at the palace the Princess was appointed to a place among the Queen’s maids-of-honour; they gave her a white satin gown covered with golden lilies to match her hair, in which she looked more beautiful and brilliant than the seven stars of heaven. Grimaçon was still allowed to attend upon her. The King had a great regard for him, and esteemed his talents and good sense very highly.

The Queen’s maids had, upon the whole, a very pleasant existence; it is true that she led them the life of dogs now and then, for her temper was very bad, and she was a proud, jealous woman. But, as the Court was gay, they amused themselves capitally and joined in all the festivities. They had balls three times a week and hunting-parties every day. At the hunting-parties Moonflower rode a magnificent strawberry-coloured mare, with a silver bridle and shoes, while Grimaçon ambled by her side on a huge mastiff, which had been trained to carry him, and which he managed to perfection.

The King was so much attracted by the lovely Princess that he cared to speak to none but her. At all the balls he chose her as his partner, and at all the hunting-parties he rode beside her; but, unhappily, the more his admiration for her increased, the more the other maids-of-honour resented it, and spared no pains in annoying and mortifying her.

“There is no living at court now that this wretched Moonflower has come,” they said to one another; and at last they determined to do their best to set the Queen-mother against her.

“Madam,” they said to her, “your Majesty has no idea of the intriguing character of your new maid; we can hear the sly creature talking sometimes to her miserable puppet of a dwarf, and we know that she is plotting to become possessed of the King’s affections, and intends to supplant your Majesty in the influence you have always had with him.”

At these words the Queen turned pale. She was furious.

She knew not upon what pretext she could injure Moonflower, for she could find no fault with her sweet temper and modest demeanour. That afternoon, as the whole court was setting out upon a hunting expedition, the Princess was about to mount her horse at the palace-door as the Queen passed by in her carriage.

“Why do you always ride that ugly brute?” called out the Queen crossly, pointing to the strawberry-coloured mare.

“Madam,” replied Moonflower, curtseying, “because his Majesty, the King, presented me with the animal.”

“Little wretch,” hissed the Queen between her teeth, “she would ride a pig if the King asked her to!” And she drove off in a fury.

The King was so much in love with Moonflower that he could neither eat by day, nor sleep by night, and, as soon as they came to that part of the forest where they intended hunting, he rode beside her; he never quitted her all day; he said a thousand tender things to her; in fact, he was so devoted that Grimaçon, who was trotting behind them on his mastiff, was overjoyed, for he felt sure that the King, as well as being an excellent _parti_, was worthy of her in every respect.

When the Queen-mother heard of this, her rage knew no bounds; she caused her chariot to be turned and went straight home. To add to her troubles, a heavy thunderstorm came on, and the rain drenched her to the skin, so that, by the time she arrived at the palace, she was almost beside herself. On the Princess’s return that afternoon she was summoned to the Queen’s apartments, where she found her Majesty in a towering rage. She stormed and raved, she called her by a thousand bad names, she would not hear a word the poor girl had to say, and, at last, flung herself upon a couch, breathless with anger.

“And what is the reason of your Majesty’s displeasure?” inquired Moonflower, terrified. “May I be informed of my offence?”

“Intriguing hussy!” cried the Queen, “you know too well! But you will never be mistress here—the King has too much sense to stoop to such an alliance!”

“Madam!” exclaimed Moonflower, “I do not understand you.”

“Oh, indeed,” replied the Queen, ironically, “so you don’t know what I mean. I mean that you are trying to entangle the affections of my son, the King, with your soft looks and sly ways; but, believe me, such unmaidenly conduct will never succeed.”

When the Princess heard these cruel words she was ready to die of mortification and misery, and her anger against the Queen grew almost beyond her control. “Ah!” she cried, “what a cruel position I am in, and who is there that will help me?”

Then she suddenly bethought herself of the stream, and, without waiting to reflect whether she was right or wrong in her impulse, she cried,

“River rise and river fall, Send the help for which I call.”

and, as she said this, she wished in her heart that the stream might rise and drown the Queen.

Immediately a voice was heard to say, “Unhappy Princess, why have you neglected my warning?” And a fountain in the garden below the windows of the Queen’s apartments began throwing itself higher and higher into the air until it dashed against the casement, breaking the glass, and pouring into the room.

The Queen rushed to the door as fast as she could, tore it open and flew downstairs, followed by Moonflower. But the water pursued them down the staircase and into the garden. When it had reached thus far it flowed across the terrace into the river which ran below, leaving the garden dry, and the Queen shrieking among the flower-beds, where all the beautiful flowers—roses, lilies, tulips, marguerites and marigolds—were torn up by the roots. Moonflower felt herself carried away by the water; her cries and struggles were of no avail, and, catching and clinging to every object she passed, she was whirled away and very soon lost consciousness. In this condition she floated along the river for leagues and leagues, with her long hair spread out like a fan behind her, to where it flowed at the foot of the Crystal Mountains.

Here she awoke from her trance and found herself being hurried swiftly forward towards a dark spot visible in the base of one of the highest hills. She drew closer and closer to it, but could not stop herself. Picture her terror on finding, as she approached it, that the dark spot proved to be the mouth of a huge cavern! In another moment she had entered it and was sinking down, down, down.

It was completely dark, and the water continued transporting her into the very bowels of the earth. At last, after what seemed to poor Moonflower several hours, a faint light began to show itself far below her, and to grow larger every moment, until the stream all at once emerged from the darkness, and she found herself in a wide and solitary marsh. She clung to some rushes that grew at the water’s edge and dragged herself out.

“Where am I?” she cried, “and what horrible place is this in which I find myself? My last hope is the enchanted leaf,”—and she put her hand into her dress, but oh, horror! she had dropped it. _Where?_

She wept until she was weary, and then, as she began to feel the pangs of hunger, she arose, and, looking over the vast expanse of marsh, tried to see whether there were any house or cottage where she might beg a piece of bread and a lodging.

In the far distance she soon beheld a building, toward which she directed her steps, and, after walking for hours, she came to an enormous palace, built entirely of mud. At the gate there lay a great crocodile, at sight of which the Princess almost fainted with fear; but, perceiving that the creature was asleep, she timidly approached and rang the doorbell, the handle of which was made of a crocodile’s tooth.

Now, the country in which Moonflower found herself belonged to a terrible and wicked Enchanter, who lived there entirely by himself but for thousands of crocodiles, which were his only companions, and for which he had a singular fancy. When he heard the bell ring he looked out, and saw the Princess standing before the door, so he immediately went down to meet her. When she beheld him her terror increased a thousandfold, for he was indeed more frightful than sin itself. He was clothed from head to foot in the skins of crocodiles, and carried in his hand a rod made of black wood, upon which was represented a crocodile’s face. He had but one glaring eye, and his mouth was furnished with huge pointed teeth, which caused him to look fiercer than an ogre. When he set eyes upon her he cried: “Ho! here comes another mortal to add to my collection of crocodiles!” And he raised his magic wand to change her into one of these loathsome beasts, when, as he was about to put his wicked design in practice, an idea struck him. “No,” he said, “I am getting up in years, and require some one to look after me; my crocodiles are stupid brutes and perform the services of my house but indifferently. Now here is a servant ready to my hand.” So he dragged the terrified Moonflower into his horrible palace, where he set her to scrub the floors, wash the dishes, cook the food, and perform the most menial offices. At night she had only the bare boards to sleep on, and nothing to eat but dried frogs.

In this way many days passed. All night she wept and all day she worked hard. “Oh, if death would but come to relieve me!” she sobbed, “what a blessing it would be. But alas! he alone comes to those who do not want him, and forgets wretches like myself.”

Now the Enchanter had a great glass tower on the top of his house, on which was reflected everything that took place on the marsh in which it stood, and every day the Princess would go up and look out to see if, by any chance, help might be approaching; and, as day by day she came down disappointed, she began to fear that she would have to spend the rest of her life with the Enchanter and his hateful crocodiles. “If I had but my dear Grimaçon,” thought she, “but alas! how can he know where I am, and, even if he did, how could he get here?”

We must now return to the palace of the King of the Crystal Mountains.

When the flood caused by the fountain had subsided and the Queen had been put to bed in hysterics, the excitement somewhat calmed itself, and only the dwarf went running about calling for the Princess. When one of the servants informed him that she had been carried away by the water his grief knew no bounds. He sighed, he wept, he tore his hair, his cries were heard all over the palace, where he wandered about from room to room, giving way to his sorrow, and at last he came to the room where the Queen and his mistress had been talking at the time of the flood. As he walked along, with his head bent, looking the very picture of desolation, he caught sight of a little dark thing lying on the floor. He picked it up.

It was the Enchanted Leaf, which had been dropped by Princess Moonflower.

At the sight of this, which so forcibly brought back to him her memory, his tears began to flow afresh. He sat down upon the ground, looking at it, and thinking of the late tragedy. Suddenly it occurred to him that the Princess might not indeed be dead, but that she had probably called upon the stream to help her, and had been carried away by it. “Perhaps,” conjectured the unhappy little creature, “she desired its aid without a good reason, and has been overtaken by the flood as a punishment. The voice warned her of it. If so, I must seek her to the very ends of the earth. Perhaps this leaf may be of service to me also, for, though I am not the Princess, I have her happiness as much at heart as if I were.”

He then resolved to go to the King and to tell him the whole story, concealing only the fact of Moonflower’s high birth, which he had solemnly sworn not to reveal without her permission. At that moment he looked out of the window and perceived the King walking about round the fountains and up and down the terraces as one distracted. He tore his hair and even his moustache. It was fortunate that the Queen, his mother, was in bed and could not see him.

Grimaçon went out into the garden, and, with a low bow, presented himself before the afflicted monarch.

“Ah!” cried the King. “My worthy Grimaçon, what a blow is this! Alas! alas! how terrible to think that Moonflower is drowned!”

“Take courage, your Majesty,” replied the dwarf. “I hope that we may yet behold her again.”

And he told the King of the Crystal Mountains the whole story, craving his Majesty’s permission to go in search of his dear mistress.

“Go! go!” exclaimed the King, “most excellent dwarf, and I will go with thee. We will seek her together, though we should traverse the whole universe.”

When the Queen heard that her son was about to depart on a long journey accompanied by the dwarf, she was furiously angry, for she guessed that they were going to look for Moonflower. But she was soon appeased, as she was to have the management of the kingdom during the King’s absence.

The King and Grimaçon started quite alone, the King taking nothing with him but a sword which he had inherited from his grandfather, and which he thought might bring him luck. The hilt was made of a single topaz, and the blade was of such superfine Damascus steel, that when it was forged it was considered the eighth wonder of the world. The dwarf carried with him nothing but the Enchanted Leaf.

“I think, your Majesty,” he observed, “that we shall do well to follow the course of the stream that has taken Moonflower away; and if so, we will have recourse to this.”

And he pulled the Enchanted Leaf out of his pocket, and, touching it with the third finger of his left hand, he thought of the old woman who had given it to the Princess, wondering whether it would be of the same use to him as it had been to her.

Instantly it began to grow larger and larger, until it became big enough for the King and Grimaçon to sit upon it. In another moment they were being whirled onward upon the face of the water.

“Now that we are fairly launched,” observed the dwarf, “I am sure that your Majesty has never travelled in this way before and with such a companion.”

“As to the travelling,” answered the King, “I would put up with anything in order to reach Moonflower; and I shall indeed do well if I never start upon an enterprise with a less brave and loyal friend.”

The dwarf was greatly pleased at finding himself so much esteemed by the King, and, as they sailed along, his heart grew lighter, for he felt sure that they would find the lost Princess some day.

They journeyed on, stopping here and there to gather the fruits that grew on the banks, and at night resting at the water-side, for the King, being strong, they were able to stop their boat and pull it ashore. After a weary journey they saw in front of them the same dark spot that Moonflower had remarked at the foot of the Crystal Mountains. When they became aware that it was a deep cavern towards which they were rushing, they were rather startled.

“Well, well,” sighed the King, “if she has perished, let us also perish, and in the same manner.”

When they entered the mouth of the hole and found themselves sliding down, down, down, deeper and deeper, even Grimaçon grew frightened, and held tightly to his Majesty’s doublet.

At last they beheld a tiny speck of light shining far below them.

“Courage, Grimaçon,” exclaimed the King, “For I see a light.”

Here the dwarf peered round the King’s elbow (for he was seated behind him), and, when he saw the little spark, he felt that, after all, fortune might yet permit them to land somewhere in safety.

At last they came out, as Moonflower had done, into the lonely marsh.

The stream sailed on, but much more slowly, and the King and his companion began to find the leaf on which they sat decreasing in size. “I feel sure that it is a sign of our voyage being at an end,” said Grimaçon.

The King stepped into the shallow water, picked up Grimaçon, and set him on the bank, drawing the leaf up after him. It immediately shrank to its natural size, upon which his Majesty gave it to the dwarf, who put it in his pocket. As they sat resting upon the bank they espied the Enchanter’s mud palace towering in the distance and resolved to go there, hoping to find some one who might give them news of the object of their search.

They walked and walked across the wet marsh, stumbling and sinking in the slimy mud, until the dwarf grew so tired that he could go forward no longer.

“I can go no further, sire,” he exclaimed, “and your Majesty must go on and leave me; I do not fear death now that I am robbed of my dear mistress.”

But the King would not hear of such a thing, and, being a strong man, he took him on his back and proceeded onward as best he might, for Grimaçon was no light weight, on account of the hump on his back, which made its owner as heavy as an ordinary person.

Now it happened at that moment, that Moonflower was looking out of the Enchanter’s glass tower, and saw, in the far distance, a man advancing with something on his back. With the exception of her wicked jailer, she had seen no one since she came to his house but the hideous reptiles which surrounded it, and her heart leaped with joy.

Picture her transports of delight on beholding, as they approached, that they were none other than the King of the Crystal Mountains and Grimaçon!

“But,” she thought, bursting into tears, “the dreadful Enchanter will but turn them into crocodiles as soon as he sees them!”

She flew downstairs and met the King and the dwarf at the door.

The crocodile which was lying across the threshold snapped his horrible teeth at them as they advanced, but, drawing his sword, the King pierced him to the heart, when, to the intense astonishment of the Princess and her rescuers, he at once became a young man.

“How can I thank you?” he exclaimed, embracing the King. “You have liberated me from a frightful prison.”

And he explained to them how the Enchanter, by a touch of his black wand, had transformed him into a crocodile, until he should be released by the sword of a fellow mortal.

“But,” he continued, “he will do the same to you, if he gets near enough to strike you also.”

At this moment the Enchanter, who, during this conversation, had been asleep indoors, came out with the fatal wand in his hand. With a howl of rage, he rushed towards them, but, in so doing, he fell over the carcase of the crocodile and his wand slipped from his fingers. He stretched out his hand to catch it, but Grimaçon was too quick for him, and, seizing the little rod, he broke it into a thousand pieces and scattered them to the four winds of heaven. The King waited until his enemy rose, upon which, drawing his sword, he fell upon him. A deadly combat then ensued, for the cruel monster had a club made of crocodiles’ bones, which he used with great skill and with which he laid about him like a madman.

But, at last, he sank, mortally wounded by the topaz-hilted sword, and expired at the King’s feet. At the same moment a shout of joy was heard, and all the crocodiles appeared in their true shapes, for the Enchanter’s death had set them free from their captivity.

There were upwards of a thousand beautiful youths and maidens, who had, at one time or another, fallen into the stream and been carried down through the cavern into these dark and awful dominions.

[Illustration: A DEADLY COMBAT THEN ENSUED]

The King then fell upon his knees before Moonflower and implored her to become his wife. The dwarf added his entreaties to those of his Majesty, and the Princess promised that, if they lived to reach the kingdom of the Crystal Mountains, she would bestow upon him her heart and her hand.

So they started for the cavern’s mouth, followed by the troop of those rescued from the Enchanter’s malice.

When they had traversed the marsh they heard a sound like thunder, and, looking back, perceived that the mud palace had sunk into the earth, and that, in its place, there had arisen a grove of palm-trees the stems of which were of gold and the leaves of emeralds.

The marsh, too, had changed its aspect in a very wonderful manner. The brackish water had become as clear as amber, golden fish darted about in it and shot to and fro among the rushes, which were of crystal and aquamarines. A thousand will-o’-the-wisps with diamond lanterns flashed about and the air was full of the songs of birds.

At the cavern’s mouth they stopped, not knowing how to go on, when Grimaçon took the Enchanted Leaf from his pocket and gave it to Moonflower. She touched it, and behold, it blazed up like a star in her hand, throwing light into the mouth of the cave and illuminating the falling water. Then they observed a little staircase cut in the rock which wound upwards, ascending high out of their sight. It had a crystal balustrade which made the ascent quite easy, and in a few moments they were all on their way up it.

It took them two days to reach the top and the poor Princess nearly fainted with weariness, but, supported by the King, she at last accomplished it, after which they sat down to rest awhile at the foot of the Crystal Mountains.