The Faery Tales of Weir | Page 3

of her royal race were crowned kings or queens.
"My uncle sends me as a beggar-maid so that I can make a true marriage. I desire to be loved for myself alone. Speak not of me to the court, but deal with me as I appear to be."
King Cuthbert gazed in admiration at her, for she had the voice of one who thinks more than she speaks and feels more than she thinks, which is the proper order for great and little ladies. "Here," thought he, "is the child I have been seeking. I will not tell the three straight-limbed lads so beautifully mannered who or what she is, but I will say that a friend hath sent an orphaned girl to be protected by me; then I will watch how they treat her, and learn at last what my sons are."
"Princess Myrtle," he said, "I will henceforth treat you as an orphaned and poor girl. Is that to your liking?"
"It is my wish, Sir," she answered, and suddenly a rising wind blew all the strands of her hair into a cloud of gold, so that her coarse wool dress appeared brocaded; and while she was thus sumptuously clothed a great peacock in iridescent array strutted by her, and she placed her gloved hand for a moment on his shining feathers, looking, indeed, a princess. Back of her the courtiers stared and rubbed their eyes. The three slim boys on the lawn were smiling.
Prince Hugh tossed the scarlet ball to her and she caught it lightly as if she were making a curtsey.
"Take the ball back to him," said the King, "and tell him I sent you."
As she went down through the parterres of flowers she was as straight as a delphinium and fresh-colored as a rose. Where the great trees clouded into the sky she looked as little as a floating petal; but when she stepped upon the sward, she seemed to grow tall like an upward soaring flame.
Though she walked with such courage towards the three slim lads her heart was beating fast, because she was afraid they would not be as noble as they looked. For at court nearly everyone looks noble, and the Princess Myrtle had learned how easy it is to keep your eyes level, and your head high, and your bearing proud; and how hard it is to preserve a sweet heart like a rose, within the shadow of this grandeur.
So she went to meet the princes with a shy, hopeful manner, the scarlet ball in her hand, and her blue eyes addressed to theirs.
"I am commanded by your royal father to return to you this ball," she said.
"I pray you tell me," said Prince Hugh, "how you, being a beggar-maid, walk as if possessed of wealth?"
She smiled. "All people are rich. Some know it. Some do not."
The princeling gave a royal whistle, and smiled at his brother Richard, who picked a white carnation and began to pull its petals. "Tell me, maid, why you wear the blue glove?" he asked.
"To cover a hand still my own," she returned proudly.
Merlin said nothing at all. He took the scarlet ball, bowed, and turned from her. She raised her eyes to the heights where the turrets cut the sky, black against gold, and the whirling sea-birds beat down the seaward rushing wind. Then stepping softly, she followed Merlin, who walked on to a place where the arching trees made a green cave, and in the depths of the cave was a fountain of marble sunk into a round of ferns. At the edge the prince paused, then he dropped the ball into the water, and it sank, for it was solid and heavy.
[Illustration: MERLIN DROPS THE BALL INTO THE FOUNTAIN]
"Why did you do that?" cried the Princess.
He wheeled about, and looked upon her coldly. "Why have you followed me?" he asked.
"To pick up the ball, should you drop it."
"The ball is drowned," he said.
"Why did you put it in the water?" she asked.
"Because you touched it," he replied.
She was very sad then. "You scorn to touch what a beggar-maid has handled?" she asked.
To this he made no reply, but strolled away into the green wood, while wearily she turned back. The stag-hounds, with their collars of jade, came to meet her, and the three enormous Persian cats whose tails were like long plumes. She stooped to caress them, and to hide her tears, for Prince Hugh and Prince Richard were coming towards her, and she did not wish them to know she was sad.
They stood like twin trees regarding her, then Prince Richard spoke. "Will you sell your glove, beggar-maid?" and he drew a piece of gold from his purse.
She replied: "I have more need of my glove than of your gold."
"If you were a court lady,"