The Faery Tales of Weir | Page 7

like my brothers," and he bowed and left her.
That night she lay on her broad bed beneath silken covers and sobbed
bitterly because her heart told her that Prince Merlin was noble; yet her
memory stung her with his cold words and averted eyes. Soon the third
day would be over, and she would have to leave the court; for even if
King Cuthbert acknowledged that she was a princess, what did that
matter if Merlin did not know that she was his queen?
All next day she sat on the terrace which looks seaward and counted the
sails coming up over the horizon like white petals blown from an
invisible garden; and she would say, "If five come within a space of
half an hour there will be hope for me"; but she always lost count, in
thinking of his face.
That night she took off her woolen dress and she clothed herself in
laces and over the laces she put on a cream silk gown all woven with
apple blossoms, and she placed flowers upon her hair; then flashed
before the mirror and smiled to see herself so beautiful. "Surely," she
thought, "he will not turn from me to-night."

Then she put on her dancing-slippers; and went down. When she
entered the banquet hall there was a stir and a murmur; and even King
Cuthbert was silent with amazement over her beauty. Prince Hugh and
Prince Richard came forward to meet her, and they bowed low, and
looked very noble, indeed.
"Our father has played a merry jest upon us," they said. "You are,
indeed, a princess and no beggar-maid." Then they began to dispute
which should take her in to dinner. But her eyes were all for Prince
Merlin, who, when the courtiers crowded about her and proclaimed her
a princess, looked straight away from her. This was as a little sword in
her heart, but the grief that dimmed her eyes made her appear even
more beautiful.
After the banquet all proceeded to the dancing-hall, and King Cuthbert
gave his arm to her. "Now I know thou art the Princess Myrtle. Which
of my sons hast thou chosen?"
"A woman is chosen; she does not choose," she replied, for her heart
was heavy. "To-night I must leave your court."
"Wilt thou continue thy search, Princess Myrtle?" the King said
anxiously.
"No, I will return to my Kingdom."
"And what wilt thou do there?"
"I will weep," she answered.
She danced a measure with Prince Hugh and a measure with Prince
Richard; then she saw that though Prince Merlin was in white satin and
gold he did not dance, but stood alone by the orange-tree.
When she was free she sent a herald to fetch him, for now she desired
no longer to play a part, but to be herself. He came slowly to where she
stood, and bowed before her in silence.

"Tell me, Prince Merlin," she said, "if you agree with these courtiers
that to-night I am become a princess?"
"I do not agree with them," he answered. "Clothes do not make a
princess."
Then they looked at each other. "Will you meet me," she said, "on the
edge of the wild forest in half an hour's time?"
"I am your servant," he replied.
She stole away to her rooms, where the moonlight lay athwart the
tessellated marble floor, and opened the casement and placed the lamp
there, which was to be the signal for her attendants to have her horses
ready on the edge of the wild forest. Then she put on the gown she had
worn as a beggar-girl, and her wooden shoes, and let her hair down
over her shoulders.
The way to the wild forest was haunted with shadows and little fleeing
things; and the night-owls called, but she remembered the look in
Merlin's eyes, and conquered her fears.
And there he was waiting, with the moonlight gleaming on his white
satin; and his face turned to the path up which she came.
She held out her hand to him with the blue velvet glove upon it, and she
said softly, "Will you look into my mirror, Prince Merlin?"
"I am your servant," he said again, then looked.
His eyes became full of light. "I see your face," he cried; and sank upon
one knee. She gave him both her hands.
"What am I to you?" she asked. "A princess?"
"No," he whispered.
"A beggar-girl?"

"No," he whispered.
"What then?"
"Thou art my love."
Then all the birds in all the world sang in her heart. "Tell me," she said,
"why, then, didst thou sink thy ball?"
"That no hands should ever touch it after thine."
"And why didst thou say when thou didst lead me in to dinner, that
thou wast sorry