The Olive Fairy Book. Various

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      ‘Will you treat me as badly as Grethari treated Geirlaug?’ cried the hen at last. And Grethari heard, and started up wildly. In an instant all the past rushed back to him; the princess by his side was forgotten, and he only saw the face of the child with whom he had played long years ago.

      ‘Where is Geirlaug?’ he exclaimed, looking round the hall; and his eyes fell upon the strange lady. With a smile she held out a ring which he had given her on her twelfth birthday, when they were still children, without a thought of the future. ‘You and none other shall be my wife,’ he said, taking her hand, and leading her into the middle of the company.

      It is not easy to describe the scene that followed. Of course, nobody understood what had occurred, and the king and queen imagined that their son had suddenly gone mad. As for the princess her rage and fury were beyond belief. The guests left the hall as quickly as they could, so that the royal family might arrange their own affairs, and in the end it was settled that half the kingdom must be given to the despised princess, instead of a husband. She sailed back at once to her country, where she was soon betrothed to a young noble, whom, in reality, she liked much better than Grethari. That evening Grethari was married to Geirlaug, and they lived happily till they died, and made all their people happy also.

      (From Neuisländischen Volksmärchen.)

THE STORY OF LITTLE KING LOC

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      Two or three miles from the coast of France, anyone sailing in a ship on a calm day can see deep, deep down, the trunks of great trees standing up in the water. Many hundreds of years ago these trees formed part of a large forest, full of all sorts of wild animals, and beyond the forest was a fine city, guarded by a castle in which dwelt the Dukes of Clarides. But little by little the sea drew nearer to the town; the foundations of the houses became undermined and fell in, and at length a shining sea flowed over the land. However, all this happened a long time after the story I am going to tell you.

      The Dukes of Clarides had always lived in the midst of their people, and protected them both in war and peace.

      At the period when this tale begins the Duke Robert was dead, leaving a young and beautiful duchess who ruled in his stead. Of course everyone expected her to marry again, but she refused all suitors who sought her hand, saying that, having only one soul she could have only one husband, and that her baby daughter was quite enough for her.

      One day, she was sitting in the tower, which looked out over a rocky heath, covered in summer with purple and yellow flowers, when she beheld a troop of horsemen riding towards the castle. In the midst, seated on a white horse with black and silver trappings, was a lady whom the duchess at once knew to be her friend the Countess of Blanchelande, a young widow like herself, mother of a little boy two years older than Abeille des Clarides. The duchess hailed her arrival with delight, but her joy was soon turned into weeping when the countess sank down beside her on a pile of cushions, and told the reason of her visit.

      ‘As you know,’ she said, taking her friend’s hand and pressing it between her own, ‘whenever a Countess of Blanchelande is about to die she finds a white rose lying on her pillow. Last night I went to bed feeling unusually happy, but this morning when I woke the rose was resting against my cheek. I have no one to help me in the world but you, and I have come to ask if you will take Youri my son, and let him be a brother to Abeille?’

      Tears choked the voice of the duchess, but she flung herself on the countess’s neck, and pressed her close. Silently the two women took leave of each other, and silently the doomed lady mounted her horse and rode home again. Then, giving her sleeping boy into the care of Francœur, her steward, she laid herself quietly on her bed, where, the next morning, they found her dead and peaceful.

      So Youri and Abeille grew up side by side, and the duchess faithfully kept her promise, and was a mother to them both. As they got bigger she often took them with her on her journeys through her duchy, and taught them to know her people, and to pity and to aid them.

      It was on one of these journeys that, after passing through meadows covered with flowers, Youri caught sight of a great glittering expanse lying beneath some distant mountains.

      ‘What is that, godmother?’ he asked, waving his hand. ‘The shield of a giant, I suppose.’

      ‘No; a silver plate as big as the moon!’ said Abeille, twisting herself round on her pony.

       ‘It is neither a silver plate nor a giant’s shield,’ replied the duchess; ‘but a beautiful lake. Still, in spite of its beauty, it is dangerous to go near it, for in its depths dwell some Undines, or water spirits, who lure all passers-by to their deaths.’

      Nothing more was said about the lake, but the children did not forget it, and one morning, after they had returned to the castle, Abeille came up to Youri.

      ‘The tower door is open,’ whispered she; ‘let us go up. Perhaps we shall find some fairies.’

      But they did not find any fairies; only, when they reached the roof, the lake looked bluer and more enchanting than ever. Abeille gazed at it for a moment, and then she said:

      ‘Do you see? I mean to go there!’

      ‘But you mustn’t,’ cried Youri. ‘You heard what your mother said. And, besides, it is so far; how could we get there?’

      ‘You ought to know that,’ answered Abeille scornfully. ‘What is the good of being a man, and learning all sorts of things, if you have to ask me. However, there are plenty of other men in the world, and I shall get one of them to tell me.’

      Youri coloured; Abeille had never spoken like this before, and, instead of being two years younger than himself, she suddenly seemed many years older. She stood with her mocking eyes fixed on him, till he grew angry at being outdone by a girl, and taking her hand he said boldly:

      ‘Very well, we will both go to the lake.’

      The next afternoon, when the duchess was working at her tapestry surrounded by her maidens, the children went out, as usual, to play in the garden. The moment they found themselves alone, Youri turned to Abeille, and holding out his hand, said:

      ‘Come.’

       ‘Come where?’ asked Abeille, opening her eyes very wide.

      ‘To the lake, of course,’ answered the boy.

      Abeille was silent. It was one thing to pretend you meant to be disobedient some day, a long time off, and quite another to start for such a distant place without anyone knowing that you had left the garden. ‘And in satin shoes, too! How stupid boys were to be sure.’

      ‘Stupid or not, I am going to the lake, and you are going with me!’ said Youri, who had not forgotten or forgiven the look she had cast on him the day before. ‘Unless,’ added he, ‘you are afraid, and in that case I shall go alone.’

      This was too much for Abeille. Bursting into tears, she flung herself on Youri’s neck, and declared that wherever he went she would go too. So, peace having been made between them, they set out.

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