Honey-Bee Part 10

"This young lad," King Loc murmured as he went on his way, "has neither the wisdom nor the wealth. Truly I cannot imagine why Honey-Bee loves him, unless it is because he is young, handsome, faithful and brave."

As he went back to the town he laughed to himself as a man does who has done some one a good turn. As he pa.s.sed Honey-Bee's cottage he thrust his big head into the open window just as he had thrust it into the crystal tunnel, and he saw the young girl, who was embroidering a veil with silver flowers.

"I wish you joy, Honey-Bee," he cried.

"And you also, little King Loc, seeing you have nothing to wish for and nothing to regret."

He had much to wish for, but, indeed, he had nothing to regret. And it was probably this which gave him such a good appet.i.te for supper. Having eaten a huge number of truffled pheasants he called Bob.

"Bob," said he, "mount your raven; go to the Princess of the Dwarfs and tell her that George or Blanchelande, long a captive of the nixies, has this day returned to Clarides."

Thus he spoke and Bob flew off on his raven.

XIX

Which tells of the extraordinary encounter of Jean the master tailor, and of the blessed song the birds in the grove sang to the d.u.c.h.ess

When George again found himself on the earth on which he was born, the very first person he met was Jean, the master tailor, with a red suit of clothes on his arm for the steward of the castle. The good man shrieked at sight of his young master.

"Holy St. James," he cried, "if you are not his lords.h.i.+p George of Blanchelande who was drowned in the lake seven years ago, you are either his ghost or the devil in person."

"I am neither ghost nor devil, good Jean, but I am truly that same George of Blanchelande who used to creep to your shop and beg bits of stuff out of which to make dresses for the dolls of my sister Honey-Bee."

"Then you were not drowned, your lords.h.i.+p," the good man exclaimed. "I am so glad! And how well you look. My little Peter who climbed into my arms to see you pa.s.s on horseback by the side of the d.u.c.h.ess that Sunday morning has become a good workman and a fine fellow. He is all of that, G.o.d be praised, your lords.h.i.+p. He will be glad to hear that you are not at the bottom of the sea, and that the fish have not eaten you as he always declared. He was in the habit of saying many pleasant things about it, your lords.h.i.+p, for he is very amusing. And it is a fact that you are much mourned in Clarides. You were such a promising child. I shall remember to my dying day how you once asked me for a needle to sew with, and as I refused, for you were not of an age to use it without danger, you replied you would go to the woods and pick beautiful green pine needles. That is what you said, and it still makes me laugh.

Upon my soul you said that. Our little Peter, also, used to say clever things. Now he is a cooper and at your service, your lords.h.i.+p."

"I shall employ no one else. But give me news of Honey-Bee and the d.u.c.h.ess, Master Jean."

"Alack, where do you come from, your lords.h.i.+p, seeing that you do not know that it is now seven years since the Princess Honey-Bee was stolen by the dwarfs of the mountain? She disappeared the very day you were drowned; and one can truly say that on that day Clarides lost its sweetest flowers. The d.u.c.h.ess is in deep mourning. And it's that which makes me say that the great of the earth have their sorrows just as well as the humblest artisans, if only to prove that we are all the sons of Adam. And because of this a cat may well look at a king, as the saying is. And by the same token the good d.u.c.h.ess has seen her hair grow white and her gaiety vanish. And when in the springtime she walks in her black robes along the hedgerow where the birds sing, the smallest of these is more to be envied than the sovereign lady of Clarides. And yet her grief is not quite without hope, your lords.h.i.+p; for though she had no tidings of you, she at least knows by dreams that her daughter Honey-Bee is alive."

This and much else said good man Jean, but George listened no longer after he heard that Honey-Bee was a captive among the dwarfs.

"The dwarfs hold Honey-Bee captive under the earth," he pondered; "a dwarf rescued me from my crystal dungeon; these little men have not all the same customs; my deliverer cannot be of the same race as those who stole my sister."

He knew not what to think except that he must rescue Honey-Bee.

In the meantime they crossed the town, and on their way the gossips standing on the thresholds of their houses asked each other who was this young stranger, but they all agreed that he was very handsome.

The better informed amongst them, having recognised the young lord of Blanchelande, decided that it must be his ghost, wherefore they fled, making great signs of the cross.

"He must be sprinkled with holy water," said one old crone, "and he will vanish leaving a disgusting smell of sulphur. He will carry away Master Jean, and he will of course plunge him alive into the fire of h.e.l.l."

"Softly! old woman," a citizen replied, "his lords.h.i.+p is alive and much more alive than you or I. He is as fresh as a rose, and he looks as if he had come from some n.o.ble court rather than from the other world. One does return from afar, good dame. As witness Francoeur the squire who came back from Rome last midsummer day."

And Margaret the helmet-maker, having greatly admired George, mounted to her maiden chamber and kneeling before the image of the Holy Virgin prayed, "Holy Virgin, grant me a husband who shall look precisely like this young lord."

So each in his way talked of George's return until the news spread from mouth to mouth and finally reached the ears of the d.u.c.h.ess who was walking-in the orchard. Her heart beat violently and she heard all the birds in the hedge-row sing:

"Cui, cui, cui, Oui, oui, oui, Georges de Blanchelande, Cui, cui, cui.

Dont vous avez nourri l'enfance Cui, cui, cui, Est ici, est ici, est ici!

Oui, oui, oui."

Francoeur approached her respectfully and said: "Your Grace, George de Blanchelande whom you thought dead has returned. I shall make it into a song." In the meantime the birds sang:

"Cucui, cui, cui, cui, cui, Oui, oui, oui, oui, oui, oui, Il est ici, ici, ici, ici, ici, ici."

And when she saw the child who had been to her as a son, she opened her arms and fell senseless at his feet.

XX

Which treats of a little satin shoe

Everybody in Clarides was quite convinced that Honey-Bee had been stolen by the dwarfs. Even the d.u.c.h.ess believed it, though her dreams did not tell her precisely. "We will find her again," said George. "We will find her again," replied Francoeur. "And we will bring her back to her mother," said George.

"And we will bring her back," replied Francoeur. "And we will marry her," said George.

"And we will marry her," replied Francoeur. And they inquired among the inhabitants as to the habits of the dwarfs and the mysterious circ.u.mstances of Honey-Bee's disappearance.

And so it happened that they questioned Nurse Maurille who had once been the nurse of the d.u.c.h.ess of Clarides; but now as she had no more milk for babies Maurille instead nursed the chickens in the poultry yard. It was there that the master and squire found her. She cried: "Psit! Psit!

psit! psit! lil--lil--lil--lil--psit, psit, psit, psit!" as she threw grain to the chicks.

"Psit, psit, psit, psit! Is it you, your lords.h.i.+p? Psit, psit, psit! Is it possible that you have grown so tall--psit! and so handsome? Psit, psit! Shoo! shoo, shoo! Just look at that fat one there eating the little one's portion! Shoo, shoo, shoo! The way of the world, your lords.h.i.+p. Riches go the rich, lean ones grow leaner, while the fat ones grow fatter. There's no justice on earth! What can I do for you, my lord? May I offer you each a gla.s.s of beer?"

"We will accept it gladly, Maurille, and I must embrace you because you nursed the mother of her whom I love best on earth."

"That's true, my lord, my foster child cut her first tooth at the age of six months and fourteen days. On which occasion the deceased d.u.c.h.ess made me a present. She did indeed."

"Now, Maurille, tell us all you know about the dwarfs who carried away Honey-Bee."

"Alas, my lord, I know nothing of the dwarfs who carried her away. And how can you expect an old woman like me to know anything? It's ages ago since I forgot the little I ever knew, and I haven't even enough memory left to remember where I put my spectacles. Sometimes I look for them when they're on my nose. Try this drink; it's fresh."

"Here's to your health, Maurille; but I was told that your husband knew something about the disappearance of Honey-Bee."

"That's true, your lords.h.i.+p. Though he never was taught anything he learnt a great deal in the pothouses and the taverns. And he never forgot anything. Why if he were alive now and sitting at this table he could tell you stories until to-morrow. He used to tell me so many that they quite muddled my head and even now I can't tell the tail of one from the head of the other. That's true, your lords.h.i.+p."

Indeed, it was true, for the head of the old nurse could only be compared to a cracked soup-pot. It was with the greatest difficulty that George and Francoeur got anything good out of it. Finally, however, by means of much repet.i.tion they did extract a tale which began somewhat as follows:

"It's seven years ago, your lords.h.i.+p, the very day you and Honey-Bee went on that frolic from which neither of you ever returned. My deceased husband went up the mountain to sell a horse. That's the truth. He fed the beast with a good peck of oats soaked in cider to give him a firm leg and a brilliant eye; he took him to market near the mountain. He had no cause to regret his oats or his cider, for he sold his horse for a much better price. Beasts are like human beings; one judges them by their appearance. My deceased husband was so rejoiced at his good stroke of business that he invited his friends to drink with him, and gla.s.s in hand he drank to their health.

"You must know, your lords.h.i.+p, that there wasn't a man in all Clarides could equal my husband when gla.s.s in hand he drank to the health of his friends. So much so that on that day, after a number of such compliments, when he returned alone at twilight he took the wrong road for the reason that he could not recognise the right one. Finding himself near a cavern he saw as distinctly as possible, considering his condition and the hour, a crowd of little men carrying a girl or a boy on a litter. He ran away for fear of ill-luck; for the wine had not robbed him of prudence. But at some distance from the cavern he dropped his pipe, and on stooping to pick it up he picked up instead a little satin shoe. When he was in a good humour he used to amuse himself by saying, 'It's the first time a pipe has changed into a shoe.' And as it was the shoe of a little girl he decided that she who had lost it in the forest was the one who had been carried away by the dwarfs and that it was this he had seen. He was about to put the shoe into his pocket when a crowd of little men in hoods pounced down on him and gave him such a thras.h.i.+ng that he lay there quite stunned."

"Maurille! Maurille!" cried George, "it's Honey-Bee's shoe. Give it to me and I will kiss it a thousand times. It shall rest for ever on my heart, and when I die it shall be buried with me."