The Flower Princess. Brown Abbie Farwell

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СКАЧАТЬ long before he found her among the roses. There was a crimson rose in her hair, and one upon either cheek when she glanced up, hearing his footsteps on the grass. There was also a crimson spot upon her white hand.

      "See!" she cried, "a cruel thorn has pricked me. Let me test your skill in herbs, Sir Doctor."

      With a sorry face, for it gave him pain to see her pain, Joyeuse ran to find the leaf of a certain plant which he knew. Presently he returned, and, taking a bit of linen from his scrip, tenderly bound the leaf about the poor wounded finger.

      "Now will it be cured," he said. "This is a remedy which never fails."

      "How wise you are," murmured Fleurette, "a very Prince of Doctors!"

      "Say, may I not then hope to be the doctor of the Princess?" he asked eagerly.

      But Fleurette shook her head. "We must see how the finger is to-morrow morning. If it is quite healed then, perhaps – But hark! That is the Gardener's whistle. It is late, and I must return to the palace, or he will find us trespassing." And away she ran, before Joyeuse had time to say another word.

      Now when the morrow arrived, Joyeuse sought Fleurette in the garden, long and long. But at last he found her among the lavender. Her finger indeed was healed, so that she smiled upon him, and she said, —

      "Now you shall teach me to play the lute. The Princess, I know, would fain master the lute. But I must see first what sort of teacher you make before I take you to her."

      So they sat down beside a marble fountain in the fairest part of the garden; and there Joyeuse taught her how to pluck the lute and to make sweet music. He taught her so well, and they passed the time so pleasantly, that they forgot how the hours were flying.

      "Joyeuse, you are the very Prince of Teachers!" said Fleurette.

      At that moment a shadow fell upon the grass beside them, and lo! there stood the head Gardener, who had heard the sound of the music, and had hurried to see who might be in the Princess's garden at this forbidden hour. The Princess gave a little cry, and without a word slipped away through an opening in the hedge that she knew, before the Gardener had a chance to see her face.

      "Huh!" grunted the Gardener. "She has escaped, whoever she is. But we shall soon know her name. You shall tell us that and other things, you minstrel fellow."

      "That I will never tell you!" cried Joyeuse.

      "Huh! We shall see about that, too," retorted the Gardener surlily. "You shall not escape, Sirrah. I will take you to my lady the Princess, and you will have a chance to explain how you came to be here playing the lute in her garden at a forbidden hour. Come along!" And he advanced to seize Joyeuse by the collar. He was a huge, burly fellow, almost a giant in size.

      But Joyeuse laid his hand on his sword and said: "Keep back, Gardener, and do not attempt to lay hands on me! I promise to follow wherever you may lead, but you shall not touch me to make me prisoner."

      "Huh! A valiant minstrel!" sneered the Gardener. But he looked twice at the Stranger's flashing eyes and at his strong right arm, and decided to accept his promise. At once he led the way through the winding paths of the garden until they came to the palace gate. Now Joyeuse was shut into a dark dungeon to wait the hour when the Princess was wont to hold council, to listen to the prayers of her suitors and the wishes of her people.

      Poor Joyeuse! "This is the end of my happy time," he said to himself. "The Princess will now dismiss me, if she does no worse. She will have no charity for a trespasser in her garden, of which she is so jealous. I may not tell her how her fair maiden met me there and urged me to remain. I cannot tell; for that might bring trouble upon the flower-maiden, whom, alas, I may never see again!"

      So he mused, wondering wistfully that she should have left him without a word. But there was no blame for her in his heart; he loved her so very dearly.

III

      It was afternoon when the Gardener opened the cell of Joyeuse and bade him follow to the great hall of the palace where the Princess would hear his crime and appoint his punishment.

      With a heavy heart he followed down the white marble corridors on the heels of the giant Gardener, who muttered to himself as they went. Now and then he would turn to look at Joyeuse and shake his head, as though foreseeing for him some dreadful punishment. At last they came to a great hall, carpeted with green and ceiled with blue, while the walls were of rosy pink. At the further end of the hall was a throne of gold; and upon it sat the Princess Fleurette. But Joyeuse dared not lift his eyes to look at her.

      He walked slowly down the hall after the Gardener, and they took their stand near the throne, but behind the first rank of people. These were the gayly dressed attendants upon a great Prince, who had come that day to woo the Princess. Even at that moment the Herald was calling out his name and titles – "Fortemain, Prince of Kalabria, Knight of the Silver Feather, Captain of a hundred spears!" The Prince Fortemain himself bowed before the throne, while his attendants stood behind him, bearing most wonderful gifts for the royal lady. There were caskets of jewels, pieces of rich silks and ermine fur, singing birds in cages, little monkeys, and other curious pets from far lands. There were never finer presents than those which the Prince Fortemain brought to the Princess Fleurette.

      A chorus of "Ohs!" went up from the maids of honor when they saw the richness of these gifts. But Joyeuse dared not even look up to see if his flower-maiden were among the white-robed band. He feared to betray her to the fierce eyes of the Gardener, who was watching him closely.

      The Prince Fortemain made his speech very prettily, offering the Princess his heart and hand, and all his riches, as well as his kingdom beyond the seas, to which he hoped to carry her.

      Then the Princess spoke in answer, very gently. And the sound of her voice was like music in the hall.

      "I have no wish to leave my own little kingdom of flowers," she said. "I am happy and contented here. I have no wish to exchange hearts, save with him who understands mine well. Let him find it where it is already bestowed, among my flowers. Choose my favorite flower, dear Prince, and I am yours."

      At the sound of her voice Joyeuse started, and for the first time looked up. There she sat upon the golden throne, – his own dear flower-maiden, she who had met him for three mornings in the garden! But now she wore no coarse gown of green. She was robed all in white, from her head to her little feet, which were shod with gold. A golden girdle she wore, and a golden band confined her golden hair. She glanced at Joyeuse as she spoke the last words to the Prince, and Joyeuse was sure that her eyes twinkled. Instantly a bold thought came into his head, for he was a bold fellow. He had been brought to her as a trespasser, ready for punishment. He would remain as a suitor! This Princess was his little playmate; he could not, would not lose her. Had she not thrice called him a Prince? He would woo her, then, like any prince.

      But now the Princess was speaking again, and this time she looked straight at him. "Whom have we here, good Gardener?" she asked, trying to force a little frown.

      "A trespasser, your Highness," answered the Gardener, in his gruff voice, hustling Joyeuse to the foot of the throne, "a trespasser whom I found in your royal garden this morning at a disgustingly early hour, sitting with a fair maiden among the lavender, strumming on a lute. I saw not the face of the girl, but I fancy she must be one of your own maids of honor. She also should be punished for listening to the music of the wicked youth."

      A little cry of horror arose from the gay group about the Princess, as they looked at one another, wondering who the shocking early-riser could be. The Princess looked sharply at Joyeuse and said: "Tell us the name of the maiden, Sirrah, and you shall be pardoned of your grievous fault."

      Joyeuse СКАЧАТЬ