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THE DAINTY BOOKS.

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Oniform with this volume, price 2s. 6d. each.

By L. B. WALForRD.
FOR GROWN-UP CHILDREN.
LMustrated by T. Pym.

By Frances E, Crompton.
MASTER BARTLEMY.
Illustrated by T. Pym.

By CONSTANCE MILMAN.
MUM FIDGETS.
Illustrated by Edith Ellison,

By THE Hon. E. KNATCHBULL-HUGESSEN,
A HIT AND A MISS.
Lilustrated by L. Leslie Brooke.

By MaBeL WorTTon.
"A MANNERLESS MONKEY.
LMustrated by Edith Ellison,

,  Lonpon: A. D. INNES & CO.,
31 & 32, BEDFoRD STREET, STRAND, W.C.

 
 

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THE DAINTY BOOKS.

Lily and Water-Lily.

By A. Comyns Carr.

Illustrated by Winifred Smith.

London:
A. D. Innes & Co.,
31 & 32, Bedford Street, Strand, W.C.
1893.
CONTENTS.

+

THE WHITE LILY... see se eee te 9
THE ROMANCE OF A WATER-LILY bee oe = 83

 
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LILY AND WATER-LILY.

—_—oe

THE WHITE LILY.

iE a land a long way off, that nobody knows the

name of, and that nobody has ever been able
to find again when once they have lost the road to it,
the flowers of the earth have spirits within them, that
can talk to the hearts of children who listen.

Every flower that blows has a home in that
country.

On the mossy banks beneath the chestnut woods
yellow primroses and sweet violets and little blue
hepaticas make a beautiful pattern on the green turf,
while the white star of Bethlehem smiles from among
its delicate leaves above them; and out upon the
12 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

open hillsides—where the tiny silver-grey leaves of
the olive trees make too fine and transparent a tracery
against the blue sky to prevent the sun from warming
the earth—bright anemones, ‘pink and purple and
fiery scarlet, bloom gaily in thousands, and pretty
striped crimson tulips lift their dainty heads among
the growing wheat.

Such flowers as these bloom near to the blue sea,
but away from the sea and away from the hot breezes
that blow across it, meadows are fresher and greener,
and land-streams ripple merrily down: from the
mountains to grow into calm rivers in the plain.

Behind the rivers, the mountains that were once
their home stand blue in the distance, and upon the
plains the white and lilac crocus, the golden daffodils,
and heavy-scented narcissus make merry in the
spring-tims, waiting for the forget-me-nots to open
their blue eyes upon the banks, and the great yellow
lilies to spread their breasts to the stream when the ~
summer is at its height. ;

There are so many flowers in that country, and the
— The White Lily. 2

sky is so kind to them with its rain and its sunshine
in season, the moon shines so softly upon them when
the night is clear, and the fireflies in May-time flit
so gaily at night upon them, that perhaps it is no
wonder they grow cleverer than other flowers, and
have hearts that beat so full of life that they can take
a part in the lives of children who are akin to them.

And in that country children and flowers and beasts
are all the children of one mother, whose name is
Mother Earth, and so they are all brothers and sisters,
and can all talk to one another so long as they love
one another. ©

Mother Earth is a very kind mother if her children
are obedient, but if they do what she has forbidden
them to do, they get punished directly.

And she gives all her children a great many rules
to follow before she sends them out into the world.

There are as many rules for the beasts and the
flowers as there are for the children, and some of
them are very tiresome rules indeed, and very hard
to remember—all the more so as Mother Earth does
14 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

not come to remind her children of what she has told
them to do, as mothers do in other countries, but
expects them to remember it all for being told once,
and punishes none the less severely because the excuse
is that the rule was forgotten.

All the children of Mother Earth have their use
and their work to do in the world.

Some birds and beasts and insects are meant to be
the food of others of her children, and not one of
them but should help to make all that is good grow
on the earth if it does what it was intended to do.

Thus the bees, as they fly from flower to flower,
kissing those whom they love and sucking honey for
their own food, carry the honey also from one flower
to another, and so make.the flowers grow and become
many more on the land.

So the birds, as they pick the seeds of flowers to
carry to their own nests, fly with them across vast
_tracts of country, and plant them in distant lands
where, but for their innocent work, such flowers would
never have bloomed at all.
The White Lily. [5

 

On one of the prettiest banks of the prettiest
torrents that ripple down towards the stately rivers
in that far-off land, a slender and spotless lily grew
beneath weeping willows and looked out upon the
world.

The world that he saw was a wilder world than the
land beside the blue.sea or on the blue plains.

Great hills were around him, with tall pine-woods
upon their crests, under whose shade the purple
columbine and crimson foxglove, the red rhododen-
dron and the flaming tiger-lily, bloomed side by side
with the tender cyclamen that lays its ears back, as
though in imitation of the soft little rabbits that run
through the carpet of bilberry plants at its feet.

Above his head was a great cliff, upon whose
summits the tops of the pine trees stirred in the
breeze as the plume of the helmet of a great warrior,
and within all the little fissures and furrows of whose
great face the red-berried arbutus tree, the white
acacia, the purple-flowered Judas-tree, and the grace-
ful mountain ash with its cockades of scarlet, found
16 Lily and Water-Lily.

a nook to root in that they might adorn the nakedness
of the vast frontal.

The lily was a strange, shy flower, and could not
bear to live in the eye of all the merry flower world
up on the open hillsides and meadows, and had
begged Mother Earth to let him leave his gay
companions to come down here i in the ‘quiet dell and
watch the stream ripple by.

And as he watched the stream tipple by he watched
something else too. ;

Every morning when the sun had been up an hour
or two and the air was warm and soft, and the hum
of insects mingled with the singing of the birds and
- the rushing of the torrent, there used to come, hand-
in-hand down the rugged path that wound about
the side of the cliff, two of the prettiest little children
that ever were seen,

Their hair was soft and bright and curling, golden
in the sunshine and brown in the shade; their eyes ©
were sweet and loving, and shone like the clear water
of the brook that rippled past at their feet ; their faces
 

The White Lily. 17

were white and fair, with
roses growing on their
cheeks, and when they
smiled their pretty teeth
were as white as the lily-
bells.

And they did smile
very often, and laugh
too. As they tripped
hand-in-hand down the
rough pathway they
laughed to feel the
(Mu. ; flowers and the grasses
le q > aaa” « kiss their tender, bare

hey brippedalonel{i. feet, and laughed again
E\iemersceens}y fect ghed ag

to see how they slipped

upon the green and pink
mosses that grew upon the stones and were wet with
the dews of the night.

They laughed at the dragon-flies that floated past
them in the warm air; they laughed at the squirrels
c

   

  

4
18 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

that ran up and down among the tree-trunks; they
laughed at the fish that shot the tiny waterfalls and
leapt up in the hot sunshine on the water; and they
laughed at the song of the thrush in the rustling
chestnut trees ; and their laughter was as sweet as the
ripple of the water itself, or as the singing of the birds
in the copses. —

The names of the children were Pearl and Ruby,
and every morning when the sun shone, the lily that
stood there in the shade heard that pretty laughter
float from afar over the meadows and through the
pine-woods, and lifted his white head-lightly in the
breeze and watched for the children to come.

The children never looked at the lily. They had
not learnt to know him yet; there were so many
merry and bright flowers around whom they grew to
know very easily, and the lily lived in the shade, and
did not try to be*seen.

But the lily looked for the children, and when the
sky rained down its showers, although the kindly
freshness was meat and drink to him, he was sorry
 

The White Lily. 19

 

because those whom he loved could not sport in the
sunshine.

Fortunately, it did not often rain in that lovely
land, and the children were always happy, laughing
aloud as they told one another that they had the
whole day to play in, the whole day in which to grow
as the flowers did, and open beneath the sun and
sleep beneath the moon.

Every day the children found new flowers to greet
them that had bloomed in the night while they had
‘been sleeping ; every day they made new friends and
learned new lessons.

And their friends were not only in the pretty
flower world.

They had companions also among the beasts of
the forest—noble stags, tender gazelles, beautiful
antelopes. Ruby was even sworn comrades with a
good-natured old brown bear, who used to come down
the mountains and take him away for long rambles
in places where he never would have dreamed of
going by himself.
20 Lily and Water-Lity.

 

The two would often be gone for days together,
the bear carrying Ruby on his back whenever the
way was too difficult or the slender little limbs
became too weary; and during these long separa-
tions from her brother, little Pearl would console her-
self in the society of a friendly little field-mouse, with
whom she had for long been on closest terms of
intimacy.

Ruby was not very partial to the field-mouse.

Being a boy, he was inclined to think it stupid and
foolish ; but Pearl understood it better, and always
knew how to make it talk. si

If it had not been for the field-mouse, and for a
pair of pretty thrushes, who were so devoted to Pearl
that they came every night and strewed leaves on
the ground to make her a bed, the little girl would
have fared badly when Ruby was away; but the
mouse was indefatigable in working for her, and
would spend whole days laboriously collecting fruits
and berries and nuts, which he would keep stored

-up in a safe place, and bring to her when she was
e.

 

The White Lily — 2K

 

hungry and was too tired herself to go foraging for
food.

Pearl was just a tiny little bit afraid of Ruby’s
friend, the bear, and would not have cared to go with
them on their rambles, even if they would have made
her welcome ; she much preferred spending her time
with the field-mouse, who was just a tiny little bit
afraid of the bear too.

The mouse was the funniest little creature in the
world ; it made her laugh all day long. And yet it
was so good-tempered, and so fond of Pearl, that it
never minded how much she made fun of it ; which, of
course, made the friendship much more pleasant than
if it had been touchy and given itself airs,

Pearl would sit under the broad shade of the
sweeping trees, resting her bare limbs upon the soft
grass and letting the flowers kiss her face; and she

‘would take a naughty delight in upsetting all the

plans that the mouse made for her comfort, pretend-
ing not to see when he had laid her dinner out, and
bursting into peals of laughter when she saw him
22 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

labouring along with a nut or a strawberry which
she would eat at a mouthful, and yet which took the
poor little creature all his time to bring safely to
port.

Sometimes the mouse would get tumbled over by
some flighty little squirrel or hasty rabbit, or by
some anxious hare flying from before a fox, and then
its precious burthen would go rolling down the path,
and the poor little mouse would go rolling after it,
terrified out of its wits, and with no thought but to
hide itself from sight.

All these things amused Pearl continually and
kept her constantly laughing.

Not that she would have let any one—squirrel, nor
hare, nor rabbit—hurt her little friend ; but there was
no harm in being amused by his efforts and his fears,
and he was not to blame for Mother Earth having
sent him out with such a very funny shape.

Pearl was really very fond of the mouse, and very
glad that it was not afraid of her.

For the mouse was afraid of Ruby, and afraid of
 

The White Lily. 28

the bear, and afraid of a great many more of its
brothers and sisters in the animal and child world,
but it had never been afraid of Pearl. ;

It would run in and out among her golden hair and
upon her neck, and eat nuts and grains out of her
- mouth, and sit upon her shoulder with its tiny bright
eyes looking into her face, and ask her all about her
troubles and her fun.

Though the mouse was such a little tiny thing, and
seemed to have the most need of the two of care and
supervision, it never talked of itself, and never asked
for anything for itself; and yet it must have had its
little troubles too, when other larger creatures crushed
its home to pieces with their great feet, or when the
magpies and the weasel stole all its stores of winter
provisions.

But the mouse was very fond of Pear], and though
it had to run up and down a great, great many times
before it got enough to make Pearl a dinner, it was
never tired, because Pearl was its friend. -

Now, the mouse was a friend also of the white lily,
24 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

and it was very fond of going to the mossy bank
beneath the willows and telling its gentle comrade
all the things that it was wont to do and to talk of
with pretty little Pearl.

The lily used not to answer very much, but he
seemed to be very fond of hearing the mouse talk
about Pearl, and whenever he strayed and spoke of
other things, the lily always managed somehow to
lead the conversation back again to the topic that
he loved.

Sometimes the mouse would suggest that he should
bring Pearl to the place where the lily lived, and
make them known to one another, but whenever this
was spoken of, the lily always seemed to shrink up
into himself, and begged that his friend would do no
such thing, for that he was quite content to watch
Pearl at her play, and would prefer to wait until she
found him out for herself.

The lily was a shy flower.

It was in vain that the mouse suggested fiat when
one lived the life of a recluse, as his friend did, it was
 

Ler em| |
ARS

 
The White Lily. Ne}

 

difficult for other flowers and children to find one out ;

but the lily was quite determined, and would not

allow the mouse.to bring Pearl to see him.
Nevertheless, the lily thought a great deal about

Pearl, and watched for her coming ‘every day of his «~

life.

One day the children were late coming down the
path under the-great cliff towards the torrent-bed.

It is true that Ruby did not always come. When
he was out a-hunting with the bear or the stag, or
even when he was coursing with the hares, he would
sometimes be away, as we have said, whole’ days
together. But Pearl scarcely ever missed a day.

She was very fond of the river.

She was very fond of the fish.

When the weather was hot she would stand in the
water, making little ripples play over her pretty
white feet, and she would make bridges with her soft
little hands for the fishes to leap over.

She would laugh when they leapt and glided away
in the clear water.
28 Lily and Water-Lily.

She never wanted to catch them; and when the
handsome kingfisher stood on the bank and put his
great beak down and snapped up the little fish for
his dinner, she was very sorry, although, of course,
she knew that Mother Earth had given him leave to
do that, and so he was not to be blamed.

But to-day Pearl was very late.

And it was not because she was in the fields
with the mouse, because the mouse had missed her
too at breakfast-time, and had scampered away to
his friend, the lily, to know if there were any news
of her,

He had had a particularly nice breakfast ready for

Pearl—a luscious arbutus berry and two sweet little |

filberts. What could any little girl want. more?
And he was very much disappointed that Pearl had
not come to eat it.

To be sure, as he told the lily, she might be tired
and still sleeping on the bed which the thrushes had
made for her.

There had been a turtledove’s wedding in the glen

a
The White Lily. 29

 

by moonlight the night before, and it would be no
wonder if Pearl were weary.

The mouse told the lily all about it.

He had not been invited himself—for birds were
rather exclusive people, and never had been known
to get on well with mice—but he knew that Pearl
had had a great success.

It had been a lovely wedding; goldfinches and
love-birds, two and two, for bridesmaids, in the most
lovely dresses ever seen, and two handsome wood-
peckers for best men.

The glowworms had carried the lamps and the fire-
flies all the candles, of which there had been hundreds
and thousands—never such a blaze seen before.

The nightingales had sung the marriage hymn, and
the thrushes the wedding march when the affair was
all over; but the mouse swore that, if his opinion
had been asked, Pearl’s voice, singing and laughing
through the woods, was far more beautiful than
anything that birds could do.

But then no one had asked the mouse’s opinion ;
30 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

for he would not have been considered an impartial
judge on that particular question, his preference for
Pearl being well known through all the country-side,
and his appreciation of the merits of birds not being
so well assured.

The show had been a fine thing; but even all the
revelry that there had been was not enough to
account for Pearl’s prolonged absence, and both the
lily and the mouse began to grow anxious.

The mouse went off to search for Pearl as soon as
he found that his friend knew nothing of her ; but the
lily was obliged to stay where it was, and could only
wait and watch. .

And, waiting, he began to be aware of a strange
foreboding of evil.

The sun shone as brightly as it did yesterday, the
birds’ song was as gay, the breeze in the trees stirred
as softly, and the breath of all the flowers was as
sweet upon the warm air; but somehow the lily felt.
as though there were a blight in the summer’s day,
as though something unlucky were going to happen.
The White Lily. ai

 

 

He listened and listened, but there was no sound
of laughter across the meadows, and the sun had lost
its brightest smile, and the shadows were beginning
to grow long upon the grass before the children
appeared at last—this time, and for the first time
since the lily had known them, without a smile upon
their pretty lips.

What was the reason of the sad change? Children
who have never lived in that country would never
guess the reason; but the lily knew what it was
directly he saw Pearl and Ruby come down the path.
The children had disobeyed one of their great
mother’s laws.

In Pearl’s hand, as she came slowly down across
the stones, was one of the blossoms of the earth.

Yes; for the first time in their lives the children
had not been. content to believe what their mother
had told them without question. They had wanted
to see for themselves whether what she had said was
true; they had plucked one of her flowers to see if
it would really die.
32 Lily and Water-Lily.

The lily was very sad as he looked at what the ©
children had done.

The plant that lay across Pearl’s bosom was a long
trailing garland of beautiful pointed green leaves with
hanging purple flowers. It was one of the very
prettiest plants that grew upon the hedgerows, and
yet the lily, as he looked at it in Pearl’s hand,
shuddered ; for he knew that it had a very sure way
of revenging itself for the wrong that had been done
to it—he knew that it was a poison plant.

Pearl came slowly forward, looking intently at the
slender tendrils that had wound themselves about her
arms and throat.

- “Brother,” said she at last to the boy who walked

beside her, “Mother Earth has deceived us. This
flower that you plucked for me is not dying at all.
It is as fresh as when you gave it me. It clings to
me so tightly that I.can scarcely tear it away. But
I am tired of it. I do not think it is such a very
pretty flower after all. I see many fairer blossoms
around which I would rather have.”
The White Lily. 23

“No; it is an ugly flower,” answered Ruby. “I
only plucked it to see if what we had been told was
true. As you say, it is not true, and so I suppose we
may just pick as many flowers as ever we like.”

“Of course, Mother Earth did say that we should
be punished if we picked the flowers,” murmured
Pearl, ruefully ; “but if-we know better, why need we
remember what she said?”

Pearl looked wistfully at all the many glorious
blossoms that were opening their hearts to the sun-
shine, and, as she looked, a grey shadow overspread
her own face in place of the brightness that had
always been there, and her sweet eyelids drooped.

“Pearl, Pearl! what is the matter?” cried Ruby.
“Why do you look so strange?”

Pearl shook herself as though she were trying to
awake from a dream. “I don’t Know,” she said. “I
don’t know what is the matter with me; but I don’t
feel the same as I felt a little while ago. Do you
feel the same, Ruby?”

Ruby seemed to consider. “I don’t know,” he

D
34 Lily and Water-Lity.

 

murmured at last, undecidedly. “But don’t let us
think about it any more. Throw away the flower,
and come and play.”

He put out his hand to tear it from her bosom, and
as he did so he saw that the slender tendrils were not
so delicate as they seemed ; he saw that Pearl’s white
flesh was scarred and bruised, that the purple creeper
had left its mark upon her.

Pearl’s eyes filled with tears, and she trembled as
she looked at the little pink marks upon her neck ;
but still more she trembled, and her blue ‘eyes grew
larger with fear, as she saw that the plant which
Ruby now held lay limp and withered in his grasp,
where but an instant before it had smiled so gay and
so brave.

“Oh, Ruby, Ruby, see what we have done!” she
cried. “What Mother Earth said zwas true. The
flower is dying.”

For an instant Pearl and Ruby lay their curly
heads together, intent on this strange and unknown
thing which they had never seen before, tenderly
The White Lily. 35

lifting the pretty pointed leaves that had grown so
limp, and the purple bells that hung their heads ;
then, with a quick movement of horror, Ruby flung
the garland wildly from him as far as his strength
would send it. -

It fell into the running stream and was whirled
away in its eddies.

The lily looked at Pearl; he was sick at heart.
But nothing worse happened.

-The little red marks upon her neck began to die
away, and the colour came back to her cheek.

. “Come,” said Ruby again, “let us go and play.”

He gave her his hand, and they tripped away across
the turf as they were wont to do.

Ruby had been away from Pearl for three days,
hunting over the mountains with the stags, and Pearl
had looked forward to this morning’s sport with her
brother again, for she was very fond of Ruby.

They went down to the river’s edge, and stepped
into the water.

When there were two of them, they could make

r
36 Lily and Water-Lily.

far better bridges for the fish to leap over, for they
stood on either side of the torrent, and reached hands
~ across under the ripples, and the fish—being very
good-natured fish—jumped over the hands instead of
passing down under them.

To-day it was a very hot day, and Pearl and Ruby
lay quite down in the water, so that the fish should
have more of a piece of work when they came; they
lay in the water and waited.

But though they waited patiently enough, some-
how or other no fish seemed to be coming; the
stream seemed to be quite dead and dull and empty.

It was not amusing, and Pearl sat up at last and
sent Ruby to ask the squirrels for some nutshells to
make boats of, by way of a change.

Ruby brought the nutshells, and they got.the fleet
ready to sail, but, though there did not seem to bea
breath of wind ora ripple on the stream, the little
boats that usually floated so prettily down the reach
all struck upon unseen stones to-day and slowly got
swamped, and sank in the tiny eddies.
The White Lily.

 

Pearl burst
into tears at
last—the first
tears she had
ever shed.

“Oh, Ruby,
it’s all of no
use,” she cried,
“Everything is
different to
what it was
yesterday. I’m
not happy any

 

more.”

Ruby put his arm around her and tried to comfort

her, but she drew herself pettishly away.

There was no comfort in Ruby’s arm any more, for
he was as unhappy as she was.
And the lily looked on pitifully out of the shade.
He would have liked to comfort Pearl, he would have
liked to help her ; but he did not know of any way
in which he could do so.
38 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

The children came up out of the water. Their
laughter, which was wont to ripple forth as merrily as
the brook itself, was stilled now, and their eyes were
no longer bright.

They dried their limbs upon the soft grass, and
stood hand-in-hand, thinking of how they should
amuse themselves,

They had never had to think before of how they
should amuse themselves; it had always come quite
naturally.

They stood there on the bank and watched the
stream sadly.

Presently a beautiful blue-and-green Aachen
darted past them like a flying emerald in the air.

“There,” said Pearl, “let us see if he is luckier
than we were, and if he will find any fish in the
torrent.”

They waited a while, and sure enough the king-
fisher, who had stood silently poised on the water's
edge, now made a dart down into the nearest pool
with its long bill, and brought up a little shining
The White Lily. 39

 

grayling which it pierced with the sharp point of its
beak, and then slowly swallowed.

Pearl watched the kingfisher intently. She had
often, very often, seen it do the same thing before,
but she had never thought so.much about it.

“Tf the kingfisher may eat the fishes, and Mother
Earth does not punish him, I wonder why we may
not pick the flowers?” said she presently, pouting her
pretty lips and knitting her smooth brow till she no
longer looked like the pretty little girl that Mother
Earth had made of her, but like somebody quite
different.

“T don’t know why, I am sure,” answered Ruby,
doubtfully. :

Pearl turned and walked up the meadow to the
bank where the lily grew.

She parted the willows with her hands, and walked
up the bank, Ruby following. There she stood still
and paused.

The air was fragrant as she had never felt it
before, no, not even on a hot summer’s eve, when
40 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

‘the sun had lain full on the violet-beds all day
long.

“Why, how sweet it is in here!” cried Pearl, and
the pretty smile came back once more to her face.
“What can it be?”

She looked around her, but the lily stood back in
the shade, and she could not see him without looking
for him, and so she passed him by.

She went out on the other side of the little copse,
into the broad sunshine that lay on the torrent-bed
under the great cliff. And Ruby followed her.

The butterflies were sporting out there in the hot
air, thousands of them, up and down over the flowers,
blue and yellow and scarlet.

“Come, let us play with the butterflies,” said Ruby.
“ They are prettier than the flowers.”

Now, Pearl was wont to stand still in the light,
and stretch out her arms and invite the butterflies to
come to her. And they would come and settle all
over her white neck, until she was decked out as with
a hundred jewels, and then she would laugh with joy.
 

The White Lily. AI

 

But to-day something ailed the butterflies. Pearl
stood still a long while, and not one of them came
near her. They all flitted away on the haze of heat
and left her alone.

The tears came into her eyes, but she dashed them ©
angrily away.

Ruby stamped his foot.

It seemed quite absurd that everything should be
changed because Pearl had plucked a garland from
off a hedge.

He began to run after the butterflies, stretching ©
out his hands to catch them. At first they would
not be caught; they flitted in front of ‘him and
got away from him. But at last his hand did close
over one, a beautiful red butterfly with handsome
spots on it.

“Ah! I have got one,” he cried.

But when he opened his hand there was only a
little golden dust upon his fingers, and a crushed
wing fell to the ground. The children knew that the
butterfly also was dead.
42 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

They did not speak, they only looked at one
another.

“Well,” said Ruby at last, “it would only have
lived till the evening. The hares told me that
butterflies only live one day.”

Pearl did not say anything, but she wondered
whether the butterfly would have been any the more
content to die before it need, because it could only
have lived one day in any case.

“It isn’t as if we had killed an oak, that can live
a thousand years, or even an animal that lives until
the winter,” continued Ruby. “All the things would
die just the same some time, even if we had nothing
to do with it.”

“Of course,” said Pearl, brightening a little.
“Mother Earth kills them all when she likes, so why
shouldn’t we kill just a few when we like? Lots of
other things do. Why, even the mouse kills plants,
and I’m sure it’s a very kind little creature.” fe

This reflection seemed to afford Ruby some scant
consolation too, for he remembered that he had
The White Lily. - ee

 

certainly often seen his friend, the bear, kill things,
and he began to be rather thankful that the bear
happened to like him, and had never wanted to kill
him.

He put his arm round Pearl, and together they
began to walk up into the forest. Since the flowers
and the fishes and the butterflies afforded them such
scant pleasure, perhaps it would be a good thing to
try in what mood the birds and animals would be.

They walked through the shady glades, looking
out for their acquaintance.

They were on speaking terms with a good many
partridges and pheasants and rabbits, and were
- quite intimate with a gazelle and a couple of
hares. As for the singing birds, as the mouse had
told the lily, Pearl was an immense favourite with
them.

But most strange to relate, to-day they either met
none whom they knew or those whom they knew
avoided them, for there was not a doubt about it
that they did not get within speaking distance of
44 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

any of their friends, much less within chance of a
caress.

The squirrels scampered away just as if they were
frightened, and the birds took wing and flew through
the trees.

“Let us go and see if the mouse is at home,” said
Pearl, pettishly, when they had tried to get some fun
out of the forest for some time without any result.

She was not going to pretend that she minded the
behaviour of her acquaintance, but she did mind it
very much, i

They went away out of the forest back into the
fields, till they came to the little hole where the mouse
lived.

Pearl told Ruby to stand out of the way, for the
mouse had often been a little bit afraid of Ruby, and
she was not going to have the mouse turn away from
her too because Ruby was there.

So Ruby stood right away out of sight, and Pearl
went up to the door of mousie’s dwelling, and called
out to him.
The White Lily. 45

 

She called many times, but he neither answered nor
showed himself, so she concluded that he must be
out.

Of course, he was very often out, quite as often as
he was at home.

“T shan’t come again,” said little Pearl, with her
head in the air. “He'll be running after me soon
enough. I dare say he is waiting for me now, poor
fellow, by the tree where we always have dinner.”

She turned away and went back to Ruby. But as
she went, she looked just once to see if the mouse
was in sight. 2

Impossible !

Why, he was at home all the while.

When he thought her back was turned, he peeped
out to see.

There were the little bright eyes that she knew,
and the little pointed nose at the door! He drew
back as quick as lightning when he saw that she
was looking, but Pearl had seen for all that.

She had seen, and her eyes filled with burning tears
46 Lily and Water-Lily.

of mortification, but she was not going to pretend
that she had seen.

She went back to Ruby without a word. And
together they went out of the forest back towards
the cliff.

The sun was beginning to sink at last, and the heat
was no longer so great as it had been.

But the children were languid—as they were not in
the habit of being.

They wandered idly down the torrent-bed under
the cliff, till they came to the little copse where the
lily grew.

The sweet scent stole towns them once more

in the evening air, and they turned in under the
shade.

“T want to find out what it is that smells so good
here,” Pearl said.

The lily saw them coming.

The evening breeze stirred his leaves, and made
him tremble.

Pearl was walking a few steps in front of Ruby.
The White Lily. 47

 

She walked slowly with her head bent down—out
of heart.

That was, perhaps, how she came at last to notice
the gentle white flower that grew in the shade. .

She stopped and looked at it. Then she bent
down and smelt it.

“Why, it is this, Ruby,” said she. “What a strange,
lovely flower! How soft and green its leaves are,
and how sadly it hangs its head! I cannot see its
face.”

She knelt down on the soft moss and touched the
flower with her little tender hand, and put her little
tip-tilted nose to it because it was so sweet.

The breeze. that rustled through the trees passed
over the lily once more and made him tremble
"again.

Pearl lifted the drooping head and looked into the
starry white face.

“ How beautiful it is!” she murmured. “How pure
and how transparent its petals are! and see the crown
of gold upon its head.”
48 | Lily and Water-Lily.

 

Ruby did not answer, although he was looking down
upon the flower.

“How I wish it were mine!” murmured Pearl
again.

She stretched out her hand towards the flower.

“Don’t pluck that, Pearl! don’t pluck it!” cried
Ruby. “It is so beautiful.”

“That's why I want to have it for my own,”
answered Pearl, “to wear upon my bosom.”

“But it will die,” argued the boy.

“TI don’t believe a the flowers die,” said the little
girl, obstinately. “It is only the bad flowers, that
deceive and scratch, who die. And this sweet flower
will always be true and kind, I know. I will take
great care of it.”

She put her hand upon the lily, closed her little
white fingers around its slender stem, and was just
going to snap it off.

Again the breeze passed over the lily, and again it
trembled in every leaf.

But just as cruel Pearl was about to ruin this
The White Lily. 49

 

tender life for the sake of her own selfish pleasure,
something ran across her hand and so startled her
that she jumped up and let go the flower.

She looked down to see what it was, and there,
shrinking away from her in the es she saw
her friend, the field-mouse.

At first Pearl was inclined to be angry. The mouse
had behaved very badly to her; she thought it was
a very rude thing for a mouse to do—to pretend
to be out when a little girl went to see him, and
when he was really at home all the while,

She stooped down towards the lily once more, and
pretended not to have seen her friend.

But again the little creature darted out from its
temporary retreat and ran over Pearl’s hand.

Then it ran back and fetched a large strawberry
that it had left a little way off, and came and showed
it to Pearl, and retreated again, as though offering her
a reward if she would do what he wanted..

The little creature was so funny that at last. Pearl
began to laugh.

rE
50 Lily and Water-Lity.

 

“Very well, mousie, I won’t pick the flower this
time,” she said; “only you must behave properly,
then. You must come here and talk to me sensibly.”

The mouse made no answer.

It only ran forward into the grass, and remained
looking at Pearl to see if she would follow.

“Tt’s you he is afraid of, Ruby,” said she. “Go
out yonder into the meadows and wait for me.”

Ruby went out, and Pearl followed the mouse.

She called to it when she got a little way forwarder,
and sat down upon the grass and beckoned it to
her. :

But the mouse did not come as it always used to.

It stopped and looked at Pearl and ran up and
down and round her, undecided.

Pearl was angry.

If the mouse no longer cared for her as he used
to do, she certainly was not going to care for the
mouse—a little wretched, ugly thing, that was ooN,
fit to laugh at and make fun of!

Out in the fields the flowers were blooming aoa
The White Lily. 51

on every side, and the flowers were not going to
shrink away and be frightened. If the mouse was
going to be silly, well, the mouse could go its own way,
and Pearl would play with the flowers.

She turned in a pet, and ran back again to Ruby.

“Let us go back again and pick the pretty white
lily, Ruby,” said she. “The mouse is tiresome to-day,
and I don’t want to play with him any more.”

Ruby was standing on a little knoll surrounded
by a bed of lovely little purple flowers that looked
up at him with strange, wistful faces, in the midst of
which shone two bright eyes.

The flowers were thoughts, and they were good
thoughts ; for as Ruby stood among them, the evil
wishes that he had had faded away, and he did not
feel as though he wanted to go back and pick the
white lily now. .

“Let us try and forget about it, Pearl,’ he said.
“TI think we should be much happier if we amused
ourselves as we used to do.” .

He took Pearl’s hand and led her away from the
52 = Luly and Water-Lily.

 

bank where the lily grew, and past the great cliff on
into the open country.

The sun, which had gone behind a cloud, shone out
again with tender radiance before it sank to its
setting, and the children thought that once more
they could be happy. ;

They wandered on hand-in-hand till they came to
a great field full of tall handsome purple poppies
that were just beginning to close up their blossoms
for the night. For the sun had set by this time and
the darkness was drawing near.

“Let us lie down here and rest,” said Ruby. “I
am weary. Do not let us wait to go back to the forest
for the night. Here we can rest as safely, and the
tall flowers will hide the morning sun from our eyes.”

It was the first time that the children had ever
rested away from the forest tree beneath which the
little thrushes and linnets spread the covering of
leaves for their couch. But, though she said nothing,
Pearl was afraid lest the birds should shun them to- _
night just as the pheasants and squirrels had shunned
The White Lily. 53

 

 

them in the morning, and she did not at all want to
lay herself open to such mortification again.

So she gave in to Ruby’s proposal, and they lay
down together amid the poppies.

Was there some evil spell upon the poor children
ever since they had plucked that garland of purple
flowers in the morning?

Sleep fell upon them, it is true, but it was not the
sweet and refreshing sleep that they had always
known before.

They slept many hours.

When they awoke the clouds all over the sky were
painted with gold and pink, and the sun was just
going to rise upon the land. The rosy colour fell
upon the ripples of the river, and upon the tops of
the trees, and upon the tops of the mountains above
the trees, and the land looked like fairy-land indeed.

And presently the sun came—a great golden ball,
gilding everything with its light.

The flowers opened their petals with the night dew
still fresh upon them, and the drops of it shone like
54 Lily and Water-Lily.

diamonds in the brightness ; and the birds took their
heads from under their wings, and began to sing their
first morning song; and the hares and the squirrels
and the rabbits crept out of their holes and ran gaily
along in search of their first morsel.

But though Pearl and Ruby had ab as many
hours as usual, and though the land upon which they ©
opened their eyes was just as fair as ever to see, they
had no heart-to notice or rejoice in re: Their
sleep had done them no good.

They did not know why. they felt so weary; but
this was the reason.

’ When they had lain down at night they ied): not
stopped to consider, as they had. always done before,
whether they were hurting anything that grew by
what they did. Up till now they had never caused.
the death of anything ; their tread was so light that,
as they ran upon the grass, the daisies and the king-
cups lifted up their heads again beneath their feet,
and they had never thoughtlessly stepped upon any-
- thing that could break with their weight.
The White Lily. Be

 

But yesterday there had come a change over them,
and they had forgotten to think.

So when they lay down they crushed the tall
poppies with their bodies, and maimed them for ever,
and the poppies breathed upon the children as they

i
EOD

 

slept, and gave them of their subtle poison ; for they,
too, were flowers of death.

The children rose and stretched their weary limbs,
and as they looked upon the place where they had
lain they saw the havoc that they had made.
56 Lily and Water-Lily.

But somehow the breath of the poppies seemed to
have deadened their feelings as well as their limbs,
for they did not seem to care, as they would have
done two days ago, about the crushed beauties that
had stood up yesterday so tall and fair.

A moment they looked at the spoiled places; but
then, without a word to one another, they hastened to
the stream where they were wont every morning to
bathe their limbs after the night’s rest.

They hoped that the water would make them
fresh again, and as merry as they had been before;
but somehow this morning even the pure river could
not wash away their weariness; the water only
washed their bodies, and left their hearts just as they
were before.

The white lily saw them go by as they passed orre
the bank towards the cliff.

He was very sad as he looked at Pearl, for her face
had changed very much, and she scarcely looked now
like the sunny child whom he had first known.

She had one of the poppy petals still clinging to
 

The White Lily. 57

 

her hair, and the lily «guessed that she must have
been lying down among the poppies, and he knew
what a strange influence poppies have upon children ;
and he was all the more sad because he was afraid
that Pearl must be even more unhappy than she was
yesterday.

He wished that ne could do something to cure
Pearl, and he thought that there was something he
could do, but he did not know how to do it.

The day wore on once more towards evening.

-It had been fair and glorious, but to the eyes of
the children there had still been that unseen cloud
before the sun, which had dimmed the whole of the
world.

The beasts of the forest, the birds of the air, and
the little animals of the wood shunned them still;

“~the mouse was nowhere to be seen, and the fone

would not come to be played with.

The flowers alone stood where they had always
stood, and behaved as they had always done, and the
children took their fun of the flowers.
58 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

They seemed to have lost even the remembrance of
Mother Earth’s command now; they seemed to have
forgotten even to besorry. They plucked the flowers
recklessly wherever they went, and then left them,
almost as soon as they were plucked, to wither and’
die upon the ground where they had lately bloomed
so contentedly.

Iris and columbine, blue hyacinth and golden
daffodils, buttercups and dark-eyed narcissus, were
cast aside in a way that the children could not have
believed possible in the days when it was their
pleasure and their pride to be the friends and
guardians of all the things that lived together with
them on the earth.

As they roamed along the banks of the stream,
and through the meadows and the woods, tokens of
their cruel destruction greeted them on every side,
and, though they kept repeating to one another that
there were still such crowds of flowers left a-blooming
that one could not miss those that were gone, they
did not feel at all happy when they passed by and
The White Lily. — 59

 

saw handfuls of blossoms lying dead and limp where
they had thrown them in the morning.

Weary at last with the toil of pleasure, Ruby
begged that they should go back once more to the
poppy-field, and sleep as they had slept before.

But Pearl, as she had passed to and fro in front of
that great cliff where the mountain ash grew so fear- _
lessly, and the tops of the fir trees on the summit ‘
waved like the plumes of warriors in battle—Pearl
had seen something which she wanted to see again.

“You go back to the poppies, Ruby,” said-she. “I
am tired. I want to stay here and think.”

So Pearl sat down on the grassy bank that was
beneath the rock, and Ruby wandered away over the
fields.

The stream rippled peacefully by beyond her, the
scent of the fir trees on the cliff came to her, still

fragrant from the sun’s heat that had lain upon them

all day, and through the scent of the fir trees came
strange whiffs of another scent that Pearl did not
recognize, but which was really the breath of the
60 Lily and Water-Lily.

white lily that stood hard by under the trees and
watched what Pearl did.

- But Pearl was not thinking of the white lily now ;
no, nor even of the poor little field-mouse, who had
been her constant friend, and who, even now, was
running about under the trees and looking anxiously
at his old companion.

She had seen a new friend, after whose companion-
ship she now hankered sorely. He grew upon the
face of the great cliff beneath whose shadow she sat,
and he was a great tall, splendid tiger-lily, who stood
proudly up among the paler flowers that humbly
surrounded him, and looked out haughtily upon the
world from off the perilous ledge of rock upon which
he had so ambitiously taken root.

Pearl could not see the tiger-lily from where she
sat, and as soon as Ruby was out of sight, and she no
longer feared that he would prevent her from doing
what she wanted, she got up and went across to the
edge of the stream, whence she could look up at the
thing that she coveted.
 

 

a ON oP ne TR, Y= EO

The White Lily. 61

 

The blood-red glow of the setting sun behind her

_ lit up all the face of the great cliff with a magic fire,

and among the mountain ash bushes and sprays of
yucca and white feather-grass that adorned its fifty
fissures, she saw the great stately flame-coloured
flower standing beyond all the rest on its ledge of
rock, and seeming to beckon to her with its drooping
head in the breeze.

And, as she gazed, the crimson sunset glowed into
its very heart, and made the tongue of flame within
it quiver like a burning snake in a goblet of shining
jasper.

It was no wonder that little Pearl was éntranced,
for the tiger-lily was a glorious sight, with the sunset
upon him, and when she saw how beautiful he was
she stretched out her hands and gave a little cry.

“JT must reach him somehow,” she cried to herself.
“Tt is a terrible cliff to climb; but I will climb it
somehow, for I must get at him. I must have him
for my own.”

Poor Pearl !
62 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

She little knew what-she was going to attempt, and
there was nobody by to warn her.

Ruby, who should have been her protector, had
fallen once more under the influence of the fatal
poppies, and was lost to her.

If she had known in what danger he was; if she
had known that he had taken one of those dangerous
flowers to his heart, and that even now he was suck-
ing in that deadening sleep from its strange purple
petals ;—if she had known it, perhaps she might even
have forgotten herself in her anxiety to awaken
Ruby. -

But she did not know it any more than Ruby
knew that she was meditating such a dreadful step as
she now thought of, standing there and holding out
her hands towards the towering cliff.

If she could but have understood what they said,
‘there were friends by even now who were warning
her ; but she had lost the keenness of her hearing for
the voices of beasts and birds and flowers, and she
‘did not hear what they whispered.
sian = |

 

 

The White Lily. - 63

 

The little mouse ran around her feet, but she did
not see him; and upon the evening air the scent of
the white lily floated heavy with its message to her
senses, but she did not understand.

Both of them were warning her to take care, but
she would not be warned, and, like many other
children have done since, she went her own way.

Tossing her golden hair behind her, she ran forward
towards the cliff.

Its base was adorned with barberry and ash bushes,
and of these she took hold with her soft little hands,
while she planted her bare feet bravely upon the
sharp points of the undermost ledge of rock.

For a few moments the whole glade was hushed to
silence.

The birds no longer sang, the breeze no longer
rustled in the trees, the dragon-flies no longer
hummed as they sailed past in the warm air; even
the torrent no longer chattered idly on its way, but
seemed to change its voice to one of plaintive sadness
as it flowed onward to the river.
64 Lily and Water-Litly.

 

Although she had to-day lost their confidence, all
the things in the valley loved Pearl, and they were
sorry to watch her running to her destruction.

The lily was very, very sorry, and he watched
anxiously.

She put one foot firmly before the other, bravely
disregarding the sharpness of the rock that cut and
wounded her soft flesh, and with her delicate hands
she boldly grasped the strong ash boughs, or even the
prickly acacia and arbutus that grew upon her way.

She was very fearless and very skilful, but not so
skilful as to be able to escape the punishment of her
own foolish disobedience.

As she came nearer to the ledge where the tiger-
lily grew, she began to feel her head grow dizzy and
her footing less secure.

But the fiery flame of the flower swam before her
eyes when she lifted them up, and nodded its head to
her in the breeze, and she would not give up the
quest.

She put her foot on the stump of an arbutus bush,
 

 

The White Lily. 65

 

that jutted out from the rock, and, catching hold of
a kindly shrub above her, lifted herself at last to the
level of the ledge.

The coveted thing was close to her hand, and she
stretched out her fingers to pluck the prize.

What was it that swam before her eyes? .

Had the height to which she had climbed turned
her dizzy and dulled her senses?

The lily was no longer there !

It seemed to be further up still!

It seemed to be trying. to disappoint her, and the
sunset was dying out, and when night was come she

_would not be able to see.

_ The tears stood in Pearl’s eyes, and her breath
came fast.
“Oh, beautiful tiger-lily !” she cried; “let me reach

; you now that I have come so far! See, see; what I

have dared for you. Do not refuse to belong to me!”
She felt for a higher place whereon to put her foot,
and once more stretched out her hand in the growing
twilight,
F
66 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

A flowering Judas-tree grew out of a cleft in the
rock. It was on that that she put her foot, and at
last—oh, happy Pearl!—her fingers closed around
the strong, straight stem of the coveted flower, and
she felt its faint perfume upon her face.

Happy—but only for a moment.

Before. she had had time to bend the tall stem
towards her, the branch of the faithless Judas-tree,
that for ever is an emblem of treachery among trees
and flowers, snapped beneath her weight, and, with
one terrible cry, Pearl fell backwards into the ravine
below.

* * * * *

The night wore away, and still Ruby slept.

The moon rose and climbed the sky and sailed
away through the fleecy clouds towards the horizon
once more, and still Ruby slept.

Though he had closed his eyes long before the
flowers and the birds had closed theirs, he slept still.

A purple poppy lay upon his breast, clasped tightly
in his brown hand, and he could not wake.
 

The White Lily. 67

He dreamed of Pearl—he dreamed of danger to
Pearl and of danger to himself, and yet he could not
wake.

He saw poor Pearl stretching out her hands to him
across a sea that seemed to him to be all red, and he
wanted to go to her and drag her across to the land
where they would both be safe once more; but there
was a weight of lead upon his feet and he could not
move, and meanwhile Pearl drifted away, and he
could not see her any more.

He cried as he slept, for his heart was heavy, and -
unconsciously he took the poppy flower on his breast
and threw it away from him.

It was dead already, and he turned away from it
in his dream and stretched out his hands towards the
free air.

He slept till the moon was high in the heavens,
and he might have slept longer still but that their
good mother, in her compassion, sent a shower of rain
down upon the earth, which refreshed poor Ruby once
again, and drove the weight of sleep from his eyes.
68 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

It was only a very little shower—heavy while it
lasted, but soon over—and when Ruby rubbed his
eyes and sat up, the moon had sailed out from behind
the rain-cloud, and was shining down as sweetly as
ever upon the world.

He looked about him at first still drowsily, and
not caring to rouse himself further. But presently
he noticed that Pearl was not lying by his side, as
she had always lain when he slept down here in the
valley ; and then suddenly his dream flashed across
his memory.

He leapt to his feet, all the drowsiness dropped
from him, and he ran back along the valley as hard
as he could run. .

What was it that he saw?

At the foot of the great rock, full in the rays. of
the moonlight, lay Pearl, still and senseless, all her
golden hair spread out beneath her head, her soft
limbs powerless and her face white as the moon itself.

Ruby’s heart froze within him—and he did not dare
approach her.
 

The White Lily. 69

 

This was the meaning of his dream.

Pearl was dead !
He had neglected and forsaken her—he who

should have guarded her most, and now she was

dead! —

He covered his face with his hands and began to
sob aloud. ;

It was some few moments before he took courage
to draw near the place where lay the little white
form.

As he did so he was conscious once more of that

- strange, sweet scent which already had struck both

the children as something unlike anything they had
ever felt before, and, kneeling down beside the little
prostrate figure, he saw that Pearl was not alone and
deserted.

He saw that close to her neck nestled her poor
little friend, the field-mouse, with bright eyes fixed
upon her white face, and upon her breast lay a white
flower with other tiny blue blossoms at its side.

It was from this flower that the strange perfume
70 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

came so strongly, and as he bent down to look closer,
Ruby recognized the white lily whom Pearl had
wanted to pick that morning in the glade.

What did it mean?

Had she picked it after all? and was this the cause
of her sad plight?

The leaves of the lily were strong, and his starry
face looked patiently up to the moonlit sky, as though
he were waiting for something that he hoped to
happen: he was not dying yet, but Ruby knew that he
would die, only now he could think of nothing else
but his poor little sister.

He did not notice how still the little mouse sat
upon Pearl’s bosom, close to where the lily lay, and
how his restless eyes travelled incessantly from the
white flower on her heart to her little pale face, as
if he too expected something to happen.

At another time Ruby would have wondered at the
mouse, and why he sat there, and was not even afraid
of him as he used to be.

But now he could only kneel with Pearl’s little cold
The White Lily. 7a

 

hand clasped in his, and his eyes fixed on her face,
watching if she should move.

And at last, yes, he felt quite surethat she had moved,

He stifled the cry of joy in his heart, lest he should
miss any word that she might speak.

She opened her eyes, but it was not at him that
she looked; her head was turned away from him,
and she did not seem able to lift it.

Her gaze fell upon the little mouse nestling upon
her bosom.

“What, mousie!” said she faintly. “Are you
there?”

“Yes, dear mistress,” answered the mouse, in a
little gentle voice. “J have never left you.”

“How good you are to me, mousie!” said Pearl,
again. “And I was unkind to you.”

She paused a moment, and then she said—

“Tell me what has happened to me, mousie. I
can’t remember.”

“The tiger-lily tempted you, and you climbed for
him,” said the mouse, “and your foot slipped.”
72 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

“1 remember now,” said Pearl. “He seemed to go
further and further from ‘me the higher I climbed.
And just as I thought I had got him, I fell. Oh, I
thought I was dead!” And Pearl shuddered.

Ruby clasped her hand wildly. “Oh, Pearl, Pearl,
how could I ever have left you?” hecried. “But I will
never leave you again. I will take care of you now.”

Pearl smiled as she heard Ruby’s voice. _

“Tt wasn’t your fault,” she said. “I was disobedient
and cruel. I wanted the tiger-lily. I was glad that
" you went away, so that I could try and get it. But
oh, it was dreadful, and now do you think I shall
die?” os

“Oh no, Pearl, no; you mustn’t die,” cried poor
Ruby, in despair. ‘What should I do if you died ?”

He stroked Pearl’s hand tenderly, and then, looking
at the lily on her breast, whose leaves were already
beginning to droop a little, he said, “Why did you
pick the poor white lily, Pearl?”

He could not quite get over the idea that Pearl was
somehow suffering for having plucked the white lily.
The White Lily. 7

 

“The white lily!” repeated she. “I never plucked
the white lily!”

“But he is lying on your breast now,” said Ruby.

Pearl put down her little hand to her bosom. Yes ;
there lay the flower, as Ruby said.

“JT don’t understand,” murmured she. “What can
it mean? I’m sure I never picked the white lily.”

“No,” said a small voice at her side. “I picked
him.”

It was the mouse who had spoken.

Pearl looked down at him.

Ever since she had discovered his presence she had
held her hand over him in the old affectionate way
that she had been used to have towards him.

“You? Impossible,” said she.

“No; it was very difficult ; it took mea long time,
but it ‘8S not impossible,” he answered.

“Then it was very wicked and cruel of you, mousie,”
said Pearl. “For now the poor lily will die.”
~ “J know,” said the mouse. “I did it to save you.”

“To save me?” murmured Pearl.
74 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

“Yes,” the mouse replied. “The plant that you
picked yesterday was poison, but the white lily is
a healing plant, and can cure many ills and many
hurts. I thought it would cure you.”

Pearl was silent. “It was very kind of you to
want me to be well again,” she said at last; “but I
don’t think you ought to have picked the white lily.”

“The white lily begged me to pick him,” answered
the mouse. “It wanted to see if it could not make
you well.”

“Ah! if it can only make you well, Pearl,” cried
Ruby, “never mind even if it sole die! Itis better
that the lily should die than you.”

Pearl lay still with a puzzled look on her face.
“TI should like to be well, Ruby,” said she at last;
“but I do mind that the lily should die. I mind
very much, This morning, I know, I wanted to
pick the white lily myself. I thought only of how
pretty it was. But now that I know how sweet it is,
I don’t want it to die. I like it much better than the
tiger-lily, who seemed so beautiful. I want it to live.”
The White Lily. — 75

 

“That cannot be,” said the mouse. “See, its leaves
are fading fast.”

Pearl gave a sigh, and as she did so the sweet
scent of the flower came to her, and she sat up.

Ruby clasped his hands for joy when he saw that
his sister was cured, but Pearl had no thought for
herself or even for Ruby.

She wanted to see if the white lily were really fading.

Alas! it was quite true: its delicate leaves were
drooping and its white petals were tarnished.

Pearl took it up in her soft, warm hands, and held
it close to her soft, warm neck. She thought, perhaps,
the warmth would make it live again, but she had
forgotten the poppies and all the flowers that she and
Ruby had plucked yesterday, or she might have known
that what the mouse had said would prove true.

She sat there with the lily in her hands, and her
warm tears dropped down into its heart, and as they
dropped its sweet perfume floated into her own heart
and spoke to her a sweet message.

Nobody could hear what the lily said excepting
76 Lily and Water-Lily.

Pearl herself, and Pearl never told anybody ; but it
was something that must have made her happy, for
there was a smile upon her face, even though her
tears still flowed sadly down. The moon sailed
through the sky, and, until her silver face had sunk
behind the edge of the world, Pearl sat still and held
the white lily to her heart.

But when the moon was quite gone, he the rosy
morning had crept through the cold dawn once again
to kiss the stream and the meadows into life, Pearl
saw that the lily was dead.

With the rosy colour of the coming day the roses
had crept back into her own cheeks again, but even
as she had grown strong and well, the lily had grown
faint and had drooped, and now that the day was
here in all its beauty, Pearl was as beautiful as ever,
but the white lily was dead. She kissed its faded
leaves, and as she did so one of the little blue flowers
that had grown about its roots, and which the mouse
had plucked with it, fell into her bosom, and she
said to herself that she would never forget. .
The White Lily. a

And then she stood up.

The little mouse was upon her neck, and she held
the dead lily to. her heart, and walked down with it
towards the stream. .

Ruby walked at her side, and together they stood
beside the rippling water and laid the lily upon the
bosom of the stream. The stream carried it away
upon its eddies, and Pearl bent down her head and
kissed the little mouse upon her bosom.

“Tf it hadn’t been for you,” she said, “even the
good lily could not have made me well again. I used
to think you a silly little thing, only good for fun
and frolic, and I was very angry when you ran away
from me ; but you are a good little friend, and now I
shall always love you.”

* * _* * ' *

Many bright days passed away.

Winter days, when the soft snow lay on the herbs and
trees, and buried flowers that were warm beneath the
earth’s breast, when the sunbeams made diamonds all
over the fairy, forest world, and the wood and the world
78 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

were silent, waiting for the spring to come; spring
days, when the brook gushed forth again, and every
leaf and timely flower burst its cosy shell, and began
to grow with the growing year, and the flush of the
orchards lay pink upon the valleys, and the golden
daffodils spread a carpet for the field-mouse and the
squirrel; summer days, when the scent of the
flowers was heavy, and the yellow butterflies sported
in the hazy air, and the fireflies floated down the
moonlit glades ; sweet autumn days, when the land
was soft and mellow, and every growing thing that
had prospered came to the time of its fruit.

And all through these many days Pearl and Ruby
came to the brookside beneath the great cliff, and
tended the plant of the dead lily that grew beneath
the treés on the green bank.

The little mouse used to come with them, and, when
Pearl was tired, he would run about and serve her
just as he used to do, while Bue. watered the plant
that they-all loved.

And .one moonlight night, when the summer was
The White Lily. 79

 

ripe once more and the flower-world was all alive again,
they stood and looked down upon the lily plant.

And, lo, among its dark leaves they saw that
another tall and slender stem had grown up, and
that upon its head a crown of purest white petals
was opening out to the rays of the moon.

The mouse stood upon Pearl’s shoulder,and trembled
to see what she would do.

The moonbeams played upon her face, and he could
see that she was very pale.

She looked a long while at the fresh ae and then
she said slowly—

“Tt is very beautiful, and Iam glad that it has come ;
but it is not the lily that I knew. No; I would rather
have you for a friend, mousie, even though you are
ugly.”

And as she said the words, and kissed the mouse
upon her shoulder, he ran down and away from her,
and while she stood there, wondering and alarmed,
suddenly there appeared before her a boy who was
not Ruby, because he was even more beautiful, a boy

¢
80 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

with strange, bright eyes, in which she seemed to
recognize the spirit of a friend. «

And as she looked at him he came forward and
took her hand.

“ Sweet little Pearl,” he said, “I have loved you
for a long time, although ‘until now I have been no
beautiful flower, but only a poor little insignificant
field-mouse. But to-day you have said that you
would rather have me for a friend than even the
fairest blossom of the glade, and by that word you
have made me what I am, and I have come to love
you and to be your friend for ever.”

With that he bent down and kissed Pearl, and led
her out into the broad white moonlight; but Ruby
remained beside the lily.

He remained beside it and looked down into its

pure and candid heart.
_ “J dare not pluck you, dear: lily,” he said.
“Through my care you have grown and thrived and
blossomed, and I love you too dearly. But I cannot
leave you. I will not leave you till you die.”
The White Lily. . 81

 

And when he bent down and kissed the flower, that
happened which had happened when Pearl kissed the
little mouse—it grew in the silver sea till it was a
maiden far more lovely than little Pearl, in Ruby’s |
awestruck sight.

And that night there were two weddings in the
glen; and each one was more beautiful than the
turtledove’s wedding, when Pearl had been chief
bridesmaid ; for Pearl herself walked at the Prince’s
side, and Ruby led the lovely lily-maiden by the
hand, and there were more love-birds than any one
ever heard of for bridesmaids, and the handsomest
kingfishers on the river-bank for best men.

And the beasts of the forests came around once
more, and were not fierce, because they were not
afraid, and the nightingales positively screamed for
joy, and the flowers made humble obeisance as the
beautiful couples went by ; the glowworms came with
their lamps, and the fireflies flashed their blue light; |
every one lent help and good will, and when the night
began to wear away, the nightingales said the blessing.

G
82 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

And all the time the moon shed her quiet
light. in the glade, but upon the ridge of the great —
cliff the pine trees waved their crests like the plumes
of the helmets of warriors in battle.

 
| THE
ROMANCE OF A WATER-LILY.
   
Tes ROMANCE OF A WATER-LILY.

PART I.
A FAIRY’S LOVE.

HE shades of evening fell softly upon the valley

of the Rhérie. Where the river made many

marshy islets, creeping towards the lake, a veil of

grey vapour lay lightly above the meadows, and the

tall poplars stood as ghostly sentinels against the

black rock-precipices that rise from the western
shore.

But upon the distant glaciers of Mont Blanc the
setting sun left a fiery rosiness still, and the little
village of Aigremont, far up on the sunny slope of
the fertile eastern shore, was mellow yet in the linger-
ing sunlight and the merry rest of eventide.
86 Lily and Water-Lily. -

 

“Yes, thou art very proud of thy pretty lover, with
his golden curls and his milk-white skin,” cried a bold,
buxom maid, who stood with her companions beside
the shady village well; “but I can tell thee I would
not give a kiss for a man who is so fearsome of his
handsome face and limbs that he shrinks from a
precipice rather than save one of his herd from
disaster.”

There was a roar of laughter, and all eyes were
turned towards a tall and slender maiden who stood
erect beneath the walnut tree, waiting until her
copper pitcher was filled at the slowly trickling
fount.

“Michael d’Orsiguet is naught to me,” said she,
proudly, and her short upper lip curled and her deep
grey eyes looked straight at the unwary speaker.

“Oh, hark! Michael is naught to Salome!” echoed
another damsel, scoffingly. “And yet who else
dances with her on the green at fairs? who else brings
her posies from the Alps? With whom else does
she sing in the rzoxzda? and who is it who carols
 

The Romance of a Water-Lily. 87

huchées under her window at night? Oh no, he is
nothing to her!”

The short lip only curled a little more, and the
grey eyes gazed steadily.

“T cannot help his singing,” said she, quietly.
“The birds sing because God made them, and I
cannot still them.”

“Nay,” replied a swarthy youth in the offing,
“ Mistress Salome cannot help the ways of fools ; but
it is not for that to be supposed that she listens to
her own father’s cowherd !”

The lip did not uncurl, but the eyes dropped, the
pure profile was turned away, and only the flaxen
tresses were presented to the Bystanders ; the pitcher
was nearly full.

“ D’Orsiguet or no d’ Orsiguet,” continued the last
speaker, “his fortunes are fallen, and he is no match
now for the daughter of Farmer Duplessis.”

The proud head was raised again and the grey
eyes flashed, and the lips, trembling with anger,
opened to speak, but at that moment the gay

”
88 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

carolling of an elaborate jddel fell upon the air,
executed with all the finish of an operatic singer, and
the figure of a tall and comely youth descended the
path towards the trees.

Salome turned once more to her pitcher; her lips
trembled still, but upon the grey eyes and the pale
face that suns had tanned so little all the former
coldness fell like a shadow.

“Ah! now, for whom are those pretty scales?”
whispered Judith, the girl who had first spoken.
“Dost thou suppose that Michael would have come
down to the well to see ws?”

The youth stood on a little rock just above
Salome. His eyes were fastened on her; he seemed
to have none for anybody else, yet she never glanced
at him, nor did her cheek flush with pride or pleasure
at the knowledge of his gaze.

He was well named; as he stood there he was as
a very image of the saint himself. The evening sun
shone on his golden curls and into his blue eyes, but
the gladness on the sweet mouth had slowly faded,
M alge ete eee

The Romance of a Water-Lily. 89

 

and the curved upper lip closed over the full lower
one sadly. :

“ Hast lost any more of thy master’s cattle over the
precipices of Jaman?” asked the youth who had
sneered at him before behind his back.

Michael turned his head for a moment, but only
for a moment, for when he answered the speaker his

_eyes were fastened once more on Salome, watching

how she would take his words.

“God forgive me!” said he, humbly, and it was
evident enough that he was not speaking to the
churlish scoffer. “I sat and played on my pipe, and
the heifer gave me the slip.”

“ Thou hadst best have been a musician, methinks,
than a simple cowherd,” sneered Judith.

“ Ay, if whistling into a reed be all the duty of an
Alpine cattle-herder,” added the bully, “there might
be others who could vie with thee, mayhap; but I
have heard tell that the work needs presence of mind
—nay, courage.”

“Courage!” echoed Michael, the quick red leaping
go Lily and Water-Lily.

 

 

to the sunburn of his fair skin, and making it of a
russet hue.

“Ay! couldst at least have brought thy master
the skin of the poor beast!”

“Methinks thou dost not know or dost not
remember the precipices of Jaman,” replied Michael,
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 91

 

with a glance as near to scorn as his gentle beauty
could assume.

“Ay, I know them well eneaenit ene the
bully. “And wert thou not such a pretty -saint
Michael as thou art, thou wouldst not, perchance,
be in the service of Farmer Duplessis!”

_ The glance at Salome was unmistakable, and a
general laugh followed that brought a faint flush to
the marble whiteness of the girl’s cheek.

“When Michael d’Orsiguet comes for his wage to
the farm, I fear me he will learn that he is no longer
in the service of Farmer Duplessis,” said she, in a low |
voice, but with her grey eyes flashing fiercely as she
turned them on her fair adorer.

“ Well done, Salome ;” and “ Come, thou hast shown
a bit of spirit at last,’ came from all sides in varied
tones of rough raillery; and only one voice cried
sharply, “ Let the girl alone, is Heaven's sake! she
-hath done naught against you.”

It was the voice.of a buxom: woman of middle age,
who now approached the fountain with her vessel.
92 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

The eyes of the loiterers rested on her good-
humouredly, one and all; even the most malicious
could not manage to pick a quarrel with Mother
Falaise—she was too entirely free from malice herself.

“Ah! you always had a soft corner for Michael,
my mother,” laughed Judith, as she helped Salome
hoist her copper water-vessels on to the yoke for her
shoulders.

“ And who else should have it if not I, who nursed
him at my breast when his own mother was laid in
the earth?” declared the woman, stoutly, looking
towards the comely youth who stood where he had
first appeared, but with a face set and stony as
though transfigured by grief. And then, guessing
his pain, but with the tact of affection refraining from
noticing it, she added, “For shame on you all to
twit a man with his ill luck! It’s you that are
cowards: not he. Ay, and it’ll serve you right if the
fairy’s milk gets some damage on your sills this night,
and misfortune comes your way next. Most like the
milk for the fairies was sour last night on Farmer
oa he Romance of a Water-Lily. 93

 

Duplessis’ window, and that’s how ne mishap befell
the herd at all.”

Several of the lads laughed at this, and Judith said
scoffingly— ;

“T thought that old story was a worn-out tale
nowadays, mother.”

But Salome had looked up and Michael even
clasped his hands, waiting on her words.

“T always set the fairies’ portion,” said the girl,
proudly.

“Ay, and last night it was poisoned,” added the
youth; “for I saw it curdled, and tasted it; and
beneath the window there was a sprig of henbane.”

The people looked from one to the other in
unacknowledged horror, and a low exclamation
escaped Salome’s lips; but the girl Judith dropped
her eyes and grew rosy red.

She burst forth, however, presently with a rough
laugh, “Ah! you were singing your fine roundelays
_ beneath Mistress Salome’s window, I suppose. That
is how you came to be by. Well, I for one have no
94 Lily and Water-Lily.

faith in these old folks’ tales. They’re nonsense.
If Farmer Duplessis’ heifer fell over the precipices of
Jaman, it was not because the fairies were offended
and ceased to protect the cattle; it was because their
herder was a coward.”

The red leapt once more to Michael’s cheek, but
Salome only grew a little paler, and set her lips more
tightly.

“Ay, the young mistress has but served him out
his deserts,” cried another.

But Mother Falaise made reply, “Come, lad, never
stand there dumfounded,” cried she, gaily. “Whether
Mistress Judith does or not, / believe in the old tales,
and if one is true, so may another be. Say the
milk was poisoned by some cowardly hand of jealous
maiden or envious youth ”—and the dame glanced at
the handsome couple and then at the flushed and
‘angry face of the spiteful Judith—“ thou hast no need
to take the name of coward so quietly for all that.
Come, let me show thee a way to give them all the lie.
I warrant—hunter or. no hunter, hero or no hero—
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 95

 

there’s not a man here would brave the fairies of the
Rhéne islets if he believed in them. Dost know the
tale, Salome? He who at the full moon plucks a
handful of the lilies that blow where lake and river
meet, may chance to see one of the fairies to whom
they belong, and he who sees the fairy”—added
Mother Falaise, dropping her voice to a dramatic
whisper—“is a dead man within the year.”

Again youths and maidens looked from one to the

-other, and a shadow fell upon the little company
that was not only the shadow of twilight as the sun
sank behind the mountains. __

Only Michael’s face was as though transfigured by
joy as he gazed still at Salome, who glanced at him
now with her lips parted and fear in her grey eyes.

“Ay, my mother, ‘tis a good thought,” cried he,
gaily. “Iwill go. The moon is propitious—she is
at the full. This very even will I go. And Mistress
Salome will. perchance accept the lilies of the Rhéne

fairies in token of my sorrow at the misfortune that
has occurred.”
96 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

“Twill be a better posy than a handful of gentian
and mountain-pink, at any rate,” laughed Judith;
“and though thou wilt not risk thy life, o’ my think-
ing, thou mayst wet thy feet, and that would be a
peril to thee.”

Michael took no notice of the taunt, but it seemed "

as though Salome did, for the momentary betrayal of
anxiety for her lover was quickly followed by a return
of her former hardness as she replied—

“T have no need for posies. Neither is it with me
that thou hast to reckon, Michael d’Orsiguet, but with
my father.”

“Nay, come now, Salome,” declared the Mother
Falaise, “every one knows well enough that it is thou
who art mistress at the farm. Be not so haughty,
maiden. It becometh thee not.”

The last words were spoken in a low tone.as the
dame took her turn at the spring; but Salome took
no notice, and, without another word, slowly began
her ascent towards the farm.

“Salome is no fool, after all,” laughed Judith.

 
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 97

“She will take the handful of lilies for what they are
worth. She knows well enough that no sane man
believes in fairies, and if this feat is a display of
courage——”

“Nay,” interrupted Michael, quickly, for now that
Salome was gone his gentleness had risen in a storm
as the soft snow before a hurricane—“no; it is not
meant for any display of courage. Thou art right—
no sane creature believes in fairies, and if Mistress
Salome’s heart is poisoned, as the foolish pot of cream
was poisoned on her window-sill—it is by no agency
unknown. I look not to meet the fairy of the
Rhéne, yet if Mistress Salome will but take the lilies
for what they are worth——, well, I shall be content.”

So saying he leapt from the boulder where he stood,
and, swinging himself down on to the grass slope
behind it, disappeared into the pine-wood at his left.

A roar of laughter greeted his departure, for if
Michael, the dreamy, the love-sick piper, had so
openly confessed his doubt of the fable, no one could
dare to acknowledge a secret belief in it.

H
98 Lily and | Water-Lily.

“Oh, the brave hero!” “A fine St. Michael,
indeed |!” were the exclamations that followed him as
he went, and above them the voice of Mother Falaise
lustily crying—

“Come, which of you will go down to-night and
pluck the fairy’s lilies at the moonrise?”

But Michael heeded them not. He cared nothing
for their taunts ; sensitive as he was, he cared nothing
for their rough usage; he cared only for one thing in
this world—Salome’s smile, Salome’s kindness. And
if he gave any heed to the jealous gibes of his com-
' rades, it was only because, with a lover’s unerring
instinct, he guessed that she cared for them, he
guessed that they injured him in her eyes.

A coward! It had struck her likea stone; he had
seen it. And she had said that that night he would
be discharged her service.

Oh, how cold she had looked! She had frozen his
heart.

But it beat now wildly, as he climbed the hill upon
the slippery fir-needles. She stood on the top, which
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 99

 

she had reached by the path. The farm nestled into
the hillside above them—white walls and a thatched
roof secured by huge stones; it had a fringe of vine
before its door and a background of vines behind it.
He could hear the farm-servants call to one another,
the sound of the churning in the dairy, and the
poultry in the yard. But a little fir-covered knoll
hid them from sight, and he placed himself boldly in —
her path. The afterglow was fading, and the short
Southern twilight would soon be dusk. She started a
little, but stood still perforce,and hespoke without delay.
“Dear mistress,” said he, and his full, rich voice
quivered, and in his blue eyes was a prayer, “do not
send me from you thus! Do not tell me that there
is no way in which I can earn your forgiveness. Ah!
in what have I so deeply offended? Tell me, for the
love of Heaven!”
She did not look at him, but he could see that the
hand that steadied the copper vessel trembled a little.
“How dare you stop my way?” said she at last.
“Let me pass!”
OOM Lily and Water-Lily.

 

“Nay, I will not let you pass,” he replied, gaining
courage as he went on. “I will not let you go till you
have told me why I am in disgrace. Before all the
village you have said that you will bid your father
discharge me. If it is for the mishap to the heifer,
alas! I grieve for it bitterly ; I acknowledge my fault,
for it was through carelessness that it happened.
But if I was careless and dreamed instead of minding
my business, it was because I was dreaming of you,
Salome ; it was because I was speaking to you in my
song. No; it is not that alone that has turned you
against me. Such a little thing could not sour the
heart of a maiden towards the man whose love she
knows as you know mine. I will not believe it.
Have you forgotten the Eve of St. John, when we
climbed the forest together as the bells chimed for
Evensong? Have you forgotten what I told you
then? Have you forgotten how you smiled upon me?
And if my poor voice has been louder since then in
sending its praises to heaven, if I have forgotten
myself in dreams of bliss pouring my soul into my
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 101

 

simple flute, who is it who hath brought me to this pass?
Ah, Salome, you surely may forgive! See, I pray you
have pity. I love you! I love you! I love you!”

His voice trembled still, and it was as music—it was
as soft-as music, and his eyes were as molten fire ;
but they did not melt Salome.

For in her bosom beat no gentle soul, and she did
not understand her lover. In her own way she loved
him well, as a strong-willed peasant maiden can love
a handsome youth; but she was proud—proud as,
perhaps, no maiden but a Swiss maiden is apt to be,
and the word “coward,” even had it only been
whispered in connection with one she fancied, would
have been as a lash across her own cheek.

“What!” said she, in low and scathing tones, face
and lips white with anger, “you come here fawning
and cringing to me for pity now? I might have
thought it: there is no spirit in you. No wonder I
am the laughing-stock of the village. Go! I have
told you it is not with me you have to deal. It is
with my father.”
102 Lily and Water-Lily.

He drew back aghast. Was this Salome—the
Salome he loved? The taunt lashed him to the
quick, but it cut below his pride; it cut to the heart,
and self-love was stunned by the deeper wound.
“Then it is that you mind?” murmured he “I
am judged by these blustering, swaggering heroes and
hussies of Aigremont, and by ¢keir standard I must
fall. Oh, Salome, I had not believed it!”

“You may believe what you please,” said she, more
faintly ; for she was ashamed—ashamed because she
knew that she was unjust; because she knew that
Michael was not really a coward, though he might
not be a hero of physical prowess. “I am not such
a poor creature as to be led in my feelings by what
others think ; I can think for myself. My father was
a chamois-hunter, and my brother died in the chase,
and the lad who cannot follow where a poor little
heifer strays is no lad for me! Nay, and though my
father look not for such feats in his cowherd, he will
at least seek one who does his duty.”

“Oh, Salome, such gibes come not from your own
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 103

 

true heart. You are unjust, and you know it,” said
' Michael, quietly. The fire of his supplication had
died out of him, and he spoke sadly. “And though
you say that you are not led by others, I know full
well that, but for the taunts of your comrades, you
would have given me a fair hearing. But I will not
yet despair. I love you too well. If I have not the
prowess of the chamois-hunter, I may perchance find
another way to your favour. Patience hath served
many a man.”

“Let me pass!” repeated the girl, imperiously, for
she felt her resolve waver before the steady fire of his
patient and forgiving love. “Deeds and not words
move a wise woman. I see my father yonder, and,
you know, he loves not overmuch to see us parleying.”

Michael glanced up, and saw the hale old farmer
standing on the terrace above, beneath the vines.

“ Ay,” answered he, “I know it. Yet could I reckon.
with my master were my mistress of a better mind.
But you have said it: deeds and not words become
me best. See, the last breath of the afterglow hath
104 Lily and Water-Litly.

faded from the bosom of the glacier. It is cold,
Salome, but the moon will rise ere long. I go where
there is a deed to do, though I would it were one
fraught with deeper danger.”

“JT wish you good luck,” said she, more softly, as
she moved off.

He strode after her, one long stride, and laid his
hand on her arm.

“Salome, thou believest in fairies,’ said he. “Ah!
do not deny it. I know it—and where is the shame?”

He had fallen into the use of the familiar pronoun
in his energy, and she did not resent it. She stood
silent; it was true—superstition was the bit of
imagination in her simple nature, and she was far too
honest to deny it to him.

“Thy silence gives consent,’ added he, after a
moment, “and for my love of thee I pray that I may
see a sight of one this night. Say, Salome, if it be so,
shall it be the way to thy favour at last?”

She turned, in her sudden return of fear forgetting
her anger. “He who looks in the eyes of a Rhéne
 
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T; he Romance of a Water-Lily. 107

fairy dies the death,” whispered she, striving hard
to hide her eee and speak with her former
scorn.

But Michael saw that which made him take heart.
“Fear not, I will never look in any eyes but thine,”
cried he, gaily. And unmindful of her haughty air,
‘unmindful of the searching gaze from above, he
snatched one hasty kiss, and sped down the mountain.

She tore herself away defiantly, but when the old
man upon the terrace met her with anger as she
mounted the steps, she looked in in the eyes just
as courageously.

“So, was it for this I spared the ne’er-do-well who
has lost me my heifer?” began he, angrily. “That
thou mightest tryst with him on the forest border at
sundown, as no honest girl may do?”

Salome bit. her lip, but she answered quietly
enough, “It was no tryst, and Michael is no ne’er-do-
well. I asked thee to spare him till he had time to
explain—he came to explain. Now, if thou deem he
hath failed in his duty to thee, do thou discharge
108 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

Salome wept bitterly

   

_him and welcome; but

for aught he may have
failed in respect to me,
Tf will do the chiding.”
She passed into the
kitchen with her water-
pails, and the old man

~ was left muttering.

“Discharge him and
welcome!” murmured
he. “And she loves him
as the apple of her eye!
Women be - strange
cattle! I would I-had
discharged him a year
ago. But now it’s too
late. She must e’en rule

it her own way-—rule it her own way.”
He nodded his head resignedly.
But within, Salome had cast herself upon her bed,

and wept bitter tears.
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 109

 

PART II.
THE FAIRY.

HE moon rose slowly from behind the rugged
rocks of Ai; slowly, very slowly creeping.
round the spur of the mountain, the silver rays fell
softly on the grey poplars that stood in scant rows
across the marsh, and lit the rushing Rhéne in the
gorge, and the pools and runnels of water, where the
river split itself up on the plain and made those islets
of fancied fairyland as it neared the lake; the marsh
caught the sidelong glance of the moon from behind
the precipices, but the wide expanse of the lake was
dark still inthe shadow. Michael lay face downwards
on the soft ground and stretched out his hand across
the stream, striving to pluck the lilies for Salome.
He had waded through a great deal of water trying
‘IO Lily and Water-Lily.

 

to get to this place, where he saw that the flowers
were finest, and sometimes the water had been less
shallow and stronger than he had expected ; and now
that he was here somehow he could not get the lilies—
they eluded him. He was beginning to lose patience ;
he did not want to wade far into this portion of the
stream ; for he knew that the current was very swift
just here and the water deep, but he would not go
without the lilies, no, not even without these particular
lilies that he had marked for his own.

He had forgotten all about the fairies in his
eagerness over the quest, in his resolution not to be
daunted, and his unreasonable vexation against the
lovely wayward things that floated away from him
on the bosom of the stream as soon as his hand
seemed to hold them, made him more determined
than ever to secure them. They seemed to laugh at
him with their bright white faces; it was a fancy, of
course, but it irritated him. And as he waded a
space into the water and stooped down, stretching
out his hand towards them once more, the moon
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 111

 

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flashed a sudden light upon the ripples, and he said
to himself that that would make all easy, and
remembered that till now he had worked in the dusk
that had so quickly followed the short twilight.

He was right—the moon did help matters, but not
quite as he had expected.

The lily floated into his hand as though of its own
112 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

free will, and as he plucked it up by the roots others
followed, until he had his arms full ina moment. But
what was that that had suddenly grown up out of the
heart of his next victim, as though it were its own
green calyx? What was that that stood there so
lightly upon the broad white petals, transparent and
green as the water, shining, glittering in thé moonlight ?

He rubbed his eyes, for what he saw could not
possibly be reality ; it was green as the calyx of the
flower, translucent as the moonlit ripples, it gave
forth light as a glow-worm, but, strange as it was, it
had the form of a girl—of-a young girl, lovely and
dainty past compare.

Michael shook himself angrily. Surely the moon
had struck his senses, as he had heard tell that it
sometimes did; or surely the white marsh mist had
got into his eyes so that he could not see! He
looked around; everything else was solid and com-
prehensible enough: the dark sheet of the lake to
his right, unlit yet by the treacherous orb, the black
precipices standing out of it where, half-way up the
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 113

 

unscalable face, the tale ran that fairies dwelt in a
secret cave; the gentler slopes, vine-clad and fertile,
that led to his own village ; and, beyond the strange
vision, a long stretch of plain over which the phantom
vapour floated finely, suffused by the golden moon-
shine, floated around the spectral poplars, floated
nearly as far as where the rushing Rhone thundered
faintly in the distance down the gorge of the
mountains, Yes; it was all as he knew it, only more
spectral, more uncanny. But the figure——

Yet as he wondered, she spoke, and as she spoke
he saw that her eyes, too, were green—green as
emeralds, green as the rushes than which she was
straighter and more lithe, green as the rippling water
where they grew.

“ How dare you pluck my flowers?” she said, with
a sort of half inconsequent imperiousness—and the
voice, too, was sweet as the ripples—the voice of a
young girl, and she shook the water from her like
diamonds as she stretched forth a slender arm from
her green draperies and pointed it at him.
114 Lily and Water-Lily. »
“Don’t you know that any one who dares to pluck my
flowers without my permission dies within the year?”
The words were harsh, but the voice was so liquid
and she smiled so enchantingly as she said them that _
Michael took heart of grace.

“T could not ask permission,” said he, humbly ;
“for I did not know you, fair lady.”

She laughed merrily, looking at him not half
displeased—then quickly resumed her imperious air.

“Ah! thou canst dare to argue with me, a Rhéne
fairy?” said she, with pretty haughtiness, yet appa-
rently forgetting to continue her speech in the more
dignified mode of address. “Thou dost so because
thou seest that I am young, and thou thinkest that
I can have but scant power; but know, rash youth,
that I have power to strike thee dead, even where
thou standest.”

Michael said no word, but he dropped the lilies into
the strearn—the lilies that he had been at such pains to
get—and his heart beat strangely, yet not with fear.

“Ah! that is easy enough to do,” said the little
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 115

 

creature, as she watched the poor flowers float slowly
down the current towards the lake. “But thou hast
torn them from their roots ; they do not float as they
once did, full of life. Nay,” added she, sadly, “thou
hast killed them; the water will be now but their
grave; and IJ loved them.”

She spoke with a tender and simple pathos that
moved the heart.

“I would I had not done it since it so grieves you,”
said Michael, repentantly.

His voice seemed to recall her to action. With a
change as swift as it was airy, she forgot pathos and
laughter in the sense of her power, in the desire for
her revenge.

“Ay, thou mayst well wish thou hadst not done
it,” said she, severely, “for thy punishment is sure,
and thou canst not elude it. And thou art a fair
youth and strong of limb, ‘tis a pity thou shouldst
die. What evil genius brought thee to such a pass,
that of all the flowers in the world thou must needs
pluck these very forbidden lilies?”
116 Lily and Water-Lily.

“T plucked them for the girl whom I love,” replied
Michael, bravely.

The little fairy looked at him: her face grew
serious with the sudden seriousness of a child’s.

“Love!” repeated she, musingly. “There was an
old fairy told me once that the passion mortals call
love brings a deal of pain and trouble. Ay, and she
said that mortals do foolish things, and even wicked
things, for the sake of what they call love, Hence
didst thou pluck my lilies, then?”

“TI did not count that a sin,” answered Michael,
boldly.

“ Thou didst not count it a sin,” repeated the fairy,
aghast. “Nota sin to break a law, to take what was
not thine? And the woman—did she will this deed,
and know that it might cost thee thy life?”

Michael was silent. How couldhe reply? To tell
the fairy that he had not believed in her existence
would be an insult—and then, was he quite sure that
Salome ‘had not believed in it ?

“ Ah, I remember,” said the small being, wisely,
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 117

 

“that same old fairy said that mortal love was
selfish, and surely I see now that it must be so. It
cannot be like the love I bear the flowers, for when
my lilies die I am sad, but she for whom thou didst
so wantonly pluck them would not have grieved
hadst thou died in the doing it.”

“ Ay, she would have grieved, methinks,” answered
Michael, sorely puzzled. “Mayhap one does not
always understand. But I do not think that love is
always selfish.”

The fairy looked at him, but his head was bowed
—he was deep in troubled thought. She looked at
him and he thought of Salome, but, lo! when he
raised his eyes again to see why she stayed her
avenging hand, it seemed to him that there had come
a change over her; it seemed to him as though she
had increased in stature, as though she were less
transparent than at first; it seemed to him as though
those wondrous green eyes pierced him through.
Was it thus that he was to die?

- He tried to drop his own gaze, and he could not,
118 Lily and Water-Lily.

and across the moonlit
ripples her voice came
softly, “’Tis a pity thou
shouldst die,’ it mur-
mured; “thou art so
fair.”

He did not reply ; his
heart beat strangely, and
he felt that she was float-
ing slowly over the water
towards him ; but he stood
as in a trance.

: y “T have always wished
A a [ to see a mortal,” said the
| ie fj} liquid voice again. “And
| i | NSCS ES now I have my wish.
She floated towards him] Methinks I am glad thou

' didst pluck the lilies.”

She laughed a low, soft laugh, but still he stood as
one numbed.

She was close to him; the mists of the marsh

Yi
he

 

 
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 119 -

 

seemed to encircle them both, and she lay her cool
little hands_upon his hair.

He shuddered; for the mists were dank, awa she
murmured—

“ Are all mortals as fair as thou?”

What was it that froze his speech, so that he could
not answer? j

“But I care not,” she continued; “thou art fair
enough. I ne’er dreamed a fairer, and I will love
thee. Nay, shrink not from me; I will do thee no
hurt. Thou shalt live, for if I love thee it is per-
mitted to me to pardon thine offence, and to take
thee tomy home. Ah! I am glad thou hast come,
fof I have much desired to love a mortal.”

Again he felt that cool touch upon his brow. . He
strove to shake it off; he strove to speak; but there
was as a sweet slumber upon him, and the marsh
mists closed in close, and he felt himself gently lifted
from the earth, and the mists upheld him, and bore
him whither he knew not. ,

But he was not afraid, for it was as though it were
not he but another to whom this befell.
120 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

Slowly they floated beyond the marsh and over
the great lake; and the water was dank and dark
beneath, yet his brain did not reel; and the stars
were bright in the solemn blue of night overhead, yet
he was not dazzled, for the soft voice murmured in
his ear, and he was content.

And they rose and they rose upon the Wa air
till the water was far, far beneath them, and the stars
seemed very near. Michael had watched the familiar
spots upon the shore pass by below him one by one ;
he had even recognized the silver-domed belfry of
his own village church at Aigremont shining in the
moonlight against the hillside. He had known that
he was floating slowly past it and away from it, yet
he could not stop, and perhaps he would not even
have stopped if he could.

But at last the pretty fairy, who held his hand fast
in hers, and seemed to bear him so safely upon the
bosom of the mist—at last she blew upon a tiny reed
that she drew from her bosom, and there was a sound
of voices upon the air, and he saw that the cloud had

 

|
1
!
|
\
ean a

The Romance of a Water-Lily. 121

 

borne them close to the precipices of Ai, and that in
the naked face of the mighty black frontal a little
aperture was visible. It flashed across him at once
that this was that home of the fairies in which Salome
believed, and at which he had so often laughed.

And as he thought the thought, he felt himself
drawn yet more firmly by the hand that held him ;
he felt his feet touch solid ground; he heard the
rippling laughter around him once more, and that
most rippling of all the voices say to him—

“Welcome to Nerina’s home!”

The mist rolled away ; there was a dazzle of light
in his eyes; but as the sense came back to them he
was conscious that the laughter faded away, as it
were, into the bowels of the earth, and that he was
still alone with the fairy of the Rhone.

“ Where am I?” said he, slowly awakening.

“Thou art in Nerina’s home,” repeated she, softly.
“JT am Nerina.”

He passed his hand slowly across his eyes and
looked at her.
122. Lily and Water-Lily.

“ The transparency through which the moonlight
had seemed to shine as she stood upon the bosom of
the river was no more, and a strangely searching
light, from he knew not whence, showed her to him
as a tangible and a very lovely woman.

Upon the great whiteness of her skin a delicate
carmine lay that grew redder in the arched lips, and
two slenderly carved eyebrows were black upon the
ivory brow; her black hair hung in long rippling
masses upon her bare snowy shoulders, and reached
to where her beautifully moulded limbs moved lithely *
through her draperies; her soft black eyes shone
merrily.

Truly she was a lovely woman ; and yet—was she
a woman? or was she a child? or was she—neither ?

Michael could not tell, but he felt that, tangible as
she seemed, she was as intangible still as when the
moonlight shone through her on the water. j

“Why have you brought me here, fair lady?” said
he at last.

“Why ?” repeated she, with her bright sweet smile.
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 123

 

“Hast thou forgotten? Did I not tell thee that “I
would save thy life—that I would love thee? There-
fore have I brought thee to my home. The other
fairies laugh because they do not believe that Nerina
_ will ever love or be loved; they say she is of the
water, and cannot hold or be held. But I think I
will love thee; thou art fairer than other men.”

Michael was silent, and sighed.

“Nay, nay, but thou dost not need to sigh now,”
cried she, throwing her arms around him gaily, and
nestling her head on his shoulder. “ Many a fairy’s
son hath sighed because Nerina would not love him ;
but thee will I love.”

But still he sighed and drew himself gently away
from her, standing with eyes downcast.

“ See,” said she, seemingly unconscious of his mood,
as she led him towards a crevice of the rock, whence
a little spring trickled slowly into’a tiny pool below,
“in the mirror of this secret and magic water that
comes to me from the heart of the earth thou mayst
behold all my kingdom. For deem not that I am
124 Lily and W ater-Lily.

sovereign of these Rhéne waters only. Nay, wherever
the lilies blow that thou didst so rashly pluck to-night,
there am I mistress. When we are wed thou wilt not
need to dwell here in this narrow valley where thou
hast ever dwelt. Wecan roam; thou shalt see the
world ; thou shalt know the haunts of all men ; for
sometimes,” added she tenderly, “I will permit thee
to return a while to earth. I shall not be afraid, for I
shall know that thou wilt ever love Nerina best, and
that not for the love of thy life alone wouldst thou
return to her, that thou mayst keep it.”

“ Then, if I should return to earth for ever, it would
be to die,’ murmured Michael.

“ Ay, without a doubt were it so,” replied Nerina,
laughing. “Thy punishment is death. It is I alone
who can save thee ; and wherefore should I save thee
alive if thou goest from me, and I may not see thee
more? The old fairy told me that they who love,
love for their own delight,” added she, pausing to
consider, with a pretty look of grave pondering on
her careless face; “and truly I feel that they are
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 125

 

right. Yet would I not have been so selfish as that
woman whom thou didst love on earth, and who sent
thee to thy death sooner than renounce a mere whim.
Nay, I will keep thee by me, to love thee always, for
thou art fairer than the sons of the fairies.”

Again Michael withdrew himself gently from her
as she threw her white arms around him and cooed,
laughing in his ear; but she noted it not as she drew
him once more towards the magic pool, and bent his
fair head over it that he might see within, while she
softly blew across the water on her reed ; and, lo! as
he looked, that which she had said came to pass, and
he saw reflected on the limpid surface the passing
image of all the fairest countries of the world. Yes ;
the smooth waters of Northern rivers appeared to
him, with willows upon their banks, and ragged-robin
and meadow-sweet in the meadows at their sides ;
and beside the tall bulrushes the Rhone lilies grew,
and the rivers ran through deep woods of spreading
elms and beeches, such as he had never seen, and
past lordly mansions with wondrous gardens by the
126 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

water, and swans swimming proudly below, such as
he had never dreamed of ; and the rivers ran through
great towns, where many men walked to and fro, and
great churches shot their spires and domes into the
air; and wherever men had not spoiled the fair water,
ie fairy’s lilies floated still upon its breast. Beneath
grey skies and blue the rivers ran, and where the air
 

The Romance of a Water-Lily. 127

 

_ quivered with heat, and white marble palaces stood,
with red cactus and white magnolia against their
walls, amid groves of. orange trees and palms, and
still the snow-lilies floated on the stream, and it was
the kingdom of the fairy again.

_ Michael gazed fascinated, watching the wondrous
pictures pass and fade upon the surface of the magic
pool; his lips parted, and there were dreams in his
eyes as when he played upon his flute on the moun-
tains ; but.at last the water was still and black as
before Nerina had blown upon it, and he roused
himself with a sigh at the sound of her cooing iaven
once more in his ear.

“Thou seest, thou beautiful youth, when thou art
Nerina’s own thou wilt no longer be doomed to pass
thy life in this narrow valley, where the mountains
close in about thee and hide the world from thy gaze ;
thou wilt no longer need to waste thy time with
herds of cattle, pouring thy song to the empty air,
“and giving fair words to those who are unable to
understandthem. Nay, Michael, we will quit a while
128 Lily and Water-Lity.

 

 

these towering mountains that crush us with their
might, these cold glaciers and monotonous pine
forests ; together we will float over the world as we
have floated to-night over this little lake; thou shalt
learn to know life, to know the great world, thou
shalt become that for which thou art fitted.”

But slowly Michael was awakening from his trance,
slowly the blood of life crept back to his heart and brain.

“Nay,” answered he, slowly but firmly, “the life
that is mine is the life to which I am fitted, the life
that methinks I should ever prefer. I am content, I
need no other.”

“Ah! thou dost not know,” insisted Nerina, shaking
her head just a trifle pettishly, “thou knowest no
-other. Thou wilt not say so when thou hast seen
what is beyond these encircling mountains.”

Michael raised his eyes; a quiet and steady fire
burned in them. “Then I would rather not see what
is beyond them,” said he, defiantly. “ Nay, I would
fain believe that the sight of no other lands, how-
soever fair, would quench in me the love of home
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 129

 

that dwells in every Switzer’s breast. But if it were
so, I would choose not to be tempted. Narrow it may
be, but the valley where I was born shall ever be the
sweetest upon earth to me, and no other dome, however
splendid, can point me heavenward so well as the
silvered belfry of my simple parish church. Nay, a fool
thou mayst think me, but I fear to leave the great
sheltering mountains, the silence of the lonely hill-tops
where I seem to be so near to heaven, the vast spaces
where my poor voice doth but lose itself in the
mighty winds, the crags and precipices where I am as
nothing amid the perils and the greatness of nature.
In the plains I should die, methinks, for I could.
neither breathe, nor’ think, nor pray—God would
seem so far off.”

Nerina was silent, looking at him with a kind of
wondering awe and innocence in her black eyes, from
which the pettishness had died away.

But all at once she burst into that merry rippling
laugh of hers, waving her hand as though to dispel a
cloud.

K
130 3s Lily and Water-Lily.

 

“ Ah! thou wouldst puzzle me with thy long words,”
said she, gaily, “ but I don’t understand them. I only
know that there never was a mortal yet, so they say,
but was glad to get away from the dull toil of earth
to the pleasures of fairyland ; and thou art a mortal,
thou wilt be like the rest when thou hast once tasted
them. Even as he who hath once beheld: Nerina in
the flesh cannot choose but love her above any
mortal woman, so wilt thou love the kingdoms of ©
earth better than dreams of heaven in the loneliness
of nature.- I warrant I know thee better than thou
knowest thyself, for am I not a fairy?”

But Michael braced his heart within him and
looked her bravely in the eyes. “And yet, lady,”
said he, gently, not for fear of her anger, but for
sorrow at a discourtesy he would fain not have
shown to any bearing the semblance of woman— and
yet, lady, forgive me, but I cannot love thee. She
whom I loved on earth must ever be first in my heart,
yea, though I should die for my love.”

He looked to see the bright black eyes flash with
The Romance of a | Water-Lily. 131~

 

an anger even keener than that which had broken
from her when she first appeared to him in judg-
ment; but, lo! there was no anger in them at all,
nothing but merry raillery that sparkled in them,
with laughter.

“Ah!” said she, shaking her head at him sagely,
“thou art but a mortal; thou dost not know. They
say that mortals cannot even see at first, and per-
chance thou dost not see how fair Iam?”

“ Ay, I see,” answered Michael, sadly.

“Nay! then how could it be that to me, who am
fairer than mortal woman e’er could be, thou shouldst
prefer one who did send thee to thy death for a
whim? Thou seest it were not possible. For I will
give thee not only my beauty, but all the joys of life
as well. Thou dost not understand.”

“Nay, perchance I do not understand ; eee
you, too, fair lady, do not understand,” answered
Michael. “Methinks love can neither be bought nor
bartered.”

Nerina knit her lovely brow in thought, but it was
122 Lily and We ater-Lily.

 

only fora moment. “I do not like thy mortal love,”
said she; “it is so grim and sad. I would rather love
as we fairies love, in merriment and content, as we will.
And thou, too,” added she, caressingly, “thou, too,
wilt love thus when thou hast been here a while, and
when the cloud of dull earth hath been lifted from thy
brow. Come, let us leave this foolish. talk and go
sport with the others in the fairy ring beneath the
moon. There wilt thou learn wisdom of mirth, I
warrant thee.”

She floated towards him, her white arms outstretched,
her face all rippling laughter and joy, and once more
the mist seemed to enter.and encircle them, and once
more he seemed to be wafted from the earth and out _
into the lap of the moonlight. Yet. it was not as
before, for he fought with the mist and struggled: with
the darkening cloud, and fain would be free.

“ Ah! fair mistress,” he cried, in anguish, “I pray
thee—I pray thee give me leave to depart. Fain:
would I love thee as thou wilt, fain would I save my
body alive, but it cannot be. I love thee not, and I
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 133

 

 

 

would rather lose my body than my soul—I would
rather die than be false. I pray thee let me but go,
and gladly will I pay the price and lay down my life
within the year.”

The cloud parted and he saw her face once more,
and the wonder in it was great.

“Mortals are stranger than I thought,” said she,
“or else art thou not like other mortals. But if thou
wilt thou shalt go. I would not keep thee against
thy will.” And then ashade of haughtiness that had
clouded her face, vanishing with the pretty laugh of
her complete self-satisfaction, she added, “ But 1 am
not afraid. Long, long before the year is out, and
thou must die, thou wilt sigh for Nerina again. Then
wilt thou call on me, and I will forgive thee, for thou
art fairer than the sons of the fairies. But until thou
call will thy Nerina not appear to thee, and thou shalt
- be sad untilthou learn thatshe alone can givethee ease.”

And, as she spoke, the cloud that had been slowly
soaring seemed to stand still, and then as slowly to
descend.
134 Lily and Water-Lily.

“See, take this little pipe,” continued she, bending
over him where he lay. “It is a reed cut from thine
own river, and it is the voice that binds my world to
thine. What thou speakest into it shall I understand
better than if thou wert by me. And when thus
thou callest me I will come.”

Michael stretched out his hand to take the pipe,
and, as he took it, it seemed to him that the lithe
fingers that closed over his were chill and wet as with
trickling water, and as he gazed into Nerina’s liquid
dark eyes they became green again and transparent
as the water where he had first seen her, until her
whole lovely self seemed to fade and become more
and more transparent too, and at last there was
nothing left but the little fairy figure through which
the moonlight shone, and from whence the silvered
drops fell like diamonds. And, lo! around him there
was nothing but the marsh with the white mists
wreathed upon it, and the many winding, creeping,
rushing streams of the Rhéne making for the lake,
He was lying upon his face on the slippery wet bank,
and stretching out his arms over the water.
The Romance of a Weater-Lily. 135

 

He shook himself angrily, for he thought that he
had been asleep, but one of the dead lilies that he
had plucked had caught in the rushes and lay faded
beneath his hand, and upon the bosom of the stream
hard by another living one floated, white and gay,
and in her heart lay one drop of water that glistened
brighter than the moonlight.
136 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

PART III.
THE VOICE OF THE REED.

ALOME stood beneath the little bit of vine-
trellis on the farm terrace, and, shading her
eyes with her hand, looked out down the hill.

It was eventide again, and, though she would not
allow it even to herself, she was anxious.

Surely if Michael were safe he would have come
to her at the dawn ; he would never have gone straight
to the Alps with the cows without saying ever a word !

Besides, had he not got the lilies for her?

Whether he had seen the fairy or no—and Salome
would not have liked any one to guess that she
thought there was a chance he might have seen her—
he would, anyhow, have the lilies.

But her anxiety only made her a trifle cooler, a
trifle more reserved and silent than usual, and when
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 137

 

the old farmer appeared on the threshold, crustier
than ever because the rheumatics in his knees bid
fair to prevent him from getting down to the ale-house,
she caught up a broom and began sweeping the
terrace as though her life depended on it.

“Ay, thou canst be busy enough when any one’s
by,” growled the old fellow, “and when no one is
looking thou art like a natural with thy dumb, silly
ways. If thy mother were alive, thou’d be ashamed
to be sick of love for a lad thou shouldst be too
proud to set eyes on. But I’ve spared the rod and
spoiled the child.”

“Ay, I’m too proud to wed for riches, as some
maids do,” retorted Salome.. “I’d rather have a lad
that was honest and brave, let him be who he may.”

“Brave!” growled the old man, who was sore
against Michael yet, though in his secret heart he
loved his daughter too well to discharge him—albeit
he scarce deemed him good enough for her; “dost
call a lad brave who can’t face a bit of rock?”

Salome’s pale face flushed. “I pray thee let me
138 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

be,” said she. “Who spoke of Michael d’Orsiguet?”
And she went about her work.

But the bells were ringing for Vespers from the
silver-domed belfry below, and she saw Judith has-
tening from her cottage on the height above, and
knew that she was coming to fetch her to church.

She tried to secrete herself in the house, but it was
no good. The loud voice having called in vain from
the orchard below, its boisterous owner followed the
father’s directions and unearthed the young mistress.

“ Art worshipping the fairy-lilies in secret, that thou
dost not need the priest’s blessing?” laughed the
buxom brunette. “Surely thou hast had all day to
do it in—and to remember the kiss thou didst give
the lad for getting them too, Well, did he see a
fairy? Tell me that. For if he saw none, I wouldn't
let the bargain stand. He’s a poor-enough match
for thee, anyhow.”

Salome flashed round on her. “What bargain?”
said she, fiercely, between her white lips. “I made
no bargain with any one.”
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 139

 

“Lord, save us!” cried the girl, half frightened.
“What is there to be in such a tantrum for ?”

“I’m in no tantrum,” replied the other, striving
hard to restrain herself; “but I'll have every one to
know that I brook no interference in my affairs. If
I choose to take a lad whose fortunes are fallen,
because it pleases me, I shall not ask the consent
of the village to do it, that is certain.”

“Oh, here’s a fine business!” cried Judith. ‘“So
thou dost mean to take him, then? Why, last night
thou wert ashamed of him for being such a coward,
and swore he was nothing at all to thee. That was
why thou madest the bargain, we all understood.”

“TI made no bargain,” retorted Salome, haughtily,
“and I know not to whom you allude; but be it
who it may, ’tis no affair but mine whether a lad is
anything to me or nothing to me, and I forbid you
to speak again on the matter.”

She moved to the door of the kitchen as she spoke,
and opened it, and Judith, cowed, was about to obey
the silent command and depart.
140 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

. At
k

But without, in the golden evening sunlight be-
neath the vines, stood Michael.

He could not see Judith, who was within in the
dark shadow, but she could see him.

His hands hung empty at his side, but his blue

 
he Romance o a Water-Lily. 141

 

eyes sought Salome’ s  pleadingly as she stood framed
in th@sdark SeeteyE
five me,” murmured he. “I could not come
"1 was. ashamed. I have: failed. I have
nothing to bring thee.”

A loud laugh burst from the recesses of the kitchen,
and Judith pushed past into the porch.

“Ho, ho!” roared she; “so he was not here this
' morning at the dawn, after all! It was all make-
believe. And he didn’t see the Rhéne fairy, and he
has not: got the magic lilies! Here’sa joke! There’s
a fine way for a lover to keep to a bargain! Give it
him, Salome! Come, show a bit of spirit, lass! He's
a smart, brave lad, to be sure! Quiteahero! I must
- be off, and tell it to the others, Why, I haven't had
such a good bit of gossip to brighten up the Vespers
with for a very long time. Salome Duplessis is
going to wed a cowherd, and ,a cowherd who is
frightened of a precipice and a fairy tale! . Ho, ho!.
what fun! Good night, my love-birds !”

And without giving another glance—perhaps with-

 
  
a2 Lily and Water-Lily.

out daring to give another glance—at the cloud
settling on Salome’s already disturbed countenance,
she flew down the path towards the church.

The two stood silent for a space—a space that
seemed an eternity to Michael, in whose tender eyes
a dumb despair was growing, as with a conviction of
that which was to follow.

The chiming of the church bell in the valley below
was the only sound that broke the creeping stillness
of the evening, and, when it ceased, the silence became
a burthen too great to bear.

A little heifer lowed in the stable within, and the
voice that was, perhaps, more familiar to him than
any save that of his flute, seemed to sound in his ear
with a note of sympathy and to loose the speech
within his laden bosom.

He looked up quickly and opened his lips. But
the cloud upon the face of his beloved was as thunder
now; her grey eyes would not seek his, but gazed
out, sullen and fierce, across the greensward, with its
sprinkling of blue gentian, away over the lake to the ~
sombre precipices of Ai in the distance.
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 143

 

The words froze upon his tongue. Yet the little
heifer still lowed plaintively hard by, and after a
while he spoke.

“Have you no word for me, Salome?” said he,
sadly.

“No,” answered she between closed lips; “I have
nothing to say.”

“You are cruel,” answered he, mournfully. “But
you do not know, and you are in your right. Perhaps
if you knew you would be different.”

She turned on him now, her eyes fiercer than ever.
“Yes, now you will tell me that you have risked
your life for my sake!” cried she, scornfully. “You,
who do not believe in anything, who laugh at the old
legends. You did not go because you thought there
was danger, and you wanted to brave it for my sake!
No; you only went because you thought it was a
mere childish whim of mine, which you could gratify
without any trouble and so satisfy me. But I am
not satisfied. No; Iam nota fool! Over and over
again you have made me the laughing-stock of the
144 Lily and Water-Ltly.

 

neighbourhood, and I have had patience; but now I!
will not have patience any longer. Go and find some
other girl who will be content with a dreamer. For
my part I like a man.”

She turned to go within, but he made a sudden

movement towards her. |
The heifer had ceased lowing; there was silence.
The sun sank into the west, and there was a red flush
- on Michael’s pale cheek.
“No; this is too much,” said he, and, though his
voice was low, it quivered with emotion. “It is true
_ that the other day, when I went to the islands, I did
“not believe in the Rhéne fairies. I went because I
thought you wished it, as I would do anything else
in the world that you wished. But now I do believe
in them, for I have seen one.”
She held her back turned to him, but he could see
that a quiver ran through her. '
“J had the lilies in my hand when she appeared to
me,” continued he. “They had been hard to get,
and I was glad, for I had done your bidding. But
The Romance of a Water-Lily, 145

 

her eyes constrained me, and I dropped them into
the stream.”

There was a pause. f

“Well,” said the girl presently, in a hard voice, in
which she strove, but vainly, quite to conceal the
trembling, “her eyes constrained thee. And what -
then?”

Michael paused. It had not occurred to him
before, but he began to doubt now whether he could
tell Salome all that had happened. He had sworn
to her but yestere’en at the sunsetting that he would
never look into woman’s eyes but hers. He knew in
his heart that he had been true to her, but as he
thought of Nerina’s black and laughing orbs, how
could he swear, that he had looked into no other
eyes? Would Salome understand that those were
no windows to a soul? How could he explain it?
He could not, and he knew she would zo¢ understand,

“Well, and what then?” repeated she.

“She told me that the penalty was death,” he
answered, slowly.

L
I 46 Lily and We ater-Lily.

He could see the quiver run once more through
her frame. “But she was gentle, and she forgave
me,” added he, “on one condition.”

Then Salome turned.

“On what condition?” asked she.

He hung his head and his voice faltered.

“Nay, do not blame me,” he began. “On the
condition that I should return t

But she interrupted him with a laugh so harsh and
discordant that it might have been Judith’s own.

“On the simple condition that you should return
no more, I suppose!” cried she, scornfully. “And
you expect me to believe such a tale as that! You
expect me to believe that the fairy forgave you just
for the love of your handsome face! Nay, to believe
such stuff were not to believe in fairies at all; for if
there ave fairies, they are wiser than us foolish women.
But thou hast seen no fairy. Thou shalt no longer
lead me up hill and down dale with thy childish
romancing!” cried she, falling into the old familiar
pronoun and perceiving it not. “Thou didst bewitch

 
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 147

 

me once with thy pipes and thy tunes, and thy com-
munings with the trees and the flowers wherein thou
didst swear I dwelt; but my eyes are opened. I
know now that thou art nothing but a ne’er-do-well,
ay, and a deceiver. I have deserved to be laughed
at for thy sake; but now—now I know where I am.
Thou hast thought to trick me out of my own foolish-
ness. Because I seemed to believe in this silly fairy
tale, thou hast thought to trade upon my credulity, to
make me think thou hadst done something brave for
my sake, when thou wast all the time that which they
call thee in the village. But thou mightest have spared
thy pains. Thou hast only made me believe thee a liar.”

Michael’s face became transfigured—transfigured
by the setting sun.

“Take care, Salome,” said he, and his voice was
not angry, but solemm and very sad; “it may be that -
ill may come of what thou sayest. I will return; I
will pluck the magic lilies for thee ; I will bring them
to thee at the dawn. But it will be at the cost of my
life. I shall not again escape the penalty. Within
the year I must die.”
148 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

But this time she did not tremble, she did not flinch,
she did not even lower her eyes ; she stood as a stone.

“Good,” said she; “go. Bring me the lilies, and
something better than thy word to prove they are
the fairy’s!”

“Ay, I will bring thee token enough,” echoed
Michael, sorrowfully, as he turned away. He moved
down the little broken moss-grown steps that led
from the terrace to the orchard below ; but ere he
reached it he turned.

She was looking after him from the threshold, proud
and cold and silent.

“Salome,” cried he, “think of it once again! If
_ thou sendest me from thee upon this cruel errand,
thou sendest me to my death.”

Still she was motionless, and uttered not a word.

He flung himself up the steps—he flung himself at
her feet.

“Salome, think of it!” moaned he. “Once thou
didst love me, thou hast said it. Ay, thou hast said
it with thy sweet eyes when we have wandered
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 149

 

 

together beside the lake in
the summer evenings, when
we have stood together
beneath the stars on frosty
winter nights. And thine
eyes have been as the stars
and thy soul as clear as the
heavens themselves: thou
couldst not lie!”

“Vet I lied,” muttered
she, with her foolish pea-
sant’s obstinacy, dogged in
her pride. “I lied.”
= ry “T will notbelieveit,” said |
Et po he; “and thou lovest me

Gniiin Sf RY A still!”
He Pune ean ad “How dare you!” she
cried. :
“ Ay, thou lovest me still,” repeated he, undaunted.
“And by thy love thou knowest that I love thee, that
I could not deceive thee, that I would die for thee.”

       
 

  

   
150 ©. )— Luly and Water-Lily.

A devil prompted her and she laughed, “Do it,
then, and I will believe it.”

He rose from his knees. “Ay, 1 will do it,” said
he, quietly. “And I will do it gladly, for thou lovest
me still.”

Slowly he went down into the ped and was
lost in the deepening twilight.

_ But when the last sound of his footsteps had died ~
away, she fell forward against the low wall that hemmed
the terrace, and lost for a while the sense of her pain.

The moon rose once more behind the precipices
of Ai, and emptied her glory over the lovely plain
of the Rhéne valley. And Michael stood as he had
stood before upon the island, and watched the creep-
ing, rushing waters and the magic lilies swaying
hither and thither upon the breast of the stream.
His hand wandered into the bosom of his shirt, as
it had wandered when Salome had asked him for
some proof of the fairy’s very existence, in search
of the little pipe of reed that Nerina had given him.
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 151

 

He wished he had shown it to Salome. But what
would have been the use? She would only have
seen in it just such a simple pipe as any other cut
from a marsh rush and made for such rustic music
as he himself sometimes affected ; she would only
have laughed at him.

But it never occurred to him to doubt whether
there were anything more in it—whether Nerina would
really appear when he played into it.

He new that she would appear, and he longed
for her to appear, for in her lay his only hope. She
only could give him that which would alone convince
his beloved that he loved her. He raised the reed
to his lips and breathed into it a sigh, soft as the
night breeze that moaned through the poplars, mur-
muring as the stream that rippled to the lake; sad
as the cry of the night-jar that pierced the stillness
of the desert land; a prayer—a prayer from the
depths of his despair; a prayer for death. He spoke
no word, but twice he breathed this sigh into the
little pipe, and then he lay still, waiting patient and
152 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

confident, with his sorrowful eyes fixed on the lilies
of the stream. And_as before, in the heart of the
flower, transparent as the water, white and glistening
as the crests of its wavelets, deep and green as the
shadows of its pools, tender and brilliant as the
moonlight, Nerina took shape of woman.

But though she was fairer than ever, more dainty,
and more exquisite in her extreme youthfulness,
there was something about her that had not been
there twenty-four hours ago—something that made
her nearer and more living, yet something that made
her also further off and less tangible.

And Michael marvelled as he saw the sweet
seriousness in her laughing eyes, the tender smile
upon her rosy lips, and stood up before her trembling.

“ Nay,” said she, motioning to him with her slender
white hand, as he opened his lips to speak, “nay,
Michael; there is no need for words. I know all.
I told thee that thou wouldst call upon me, and upon
me alone, to give thee ease, though I knew not then
how it would be.”
 

 

The Romance of a Water-Lily. 153

 

“Alas! fair maiden,” faltered the youth, “yet do
you not understand. I come not as you deem. I
come not to return to you—fair as you are. I can
love none other but the mortal maiden whom I have
loved since manhood first awoke in me. But I come
boldly, as a last hope, to beg one great boon.”

_“T know,” said she, quietly, nodding her head, and
with the same sweet serious smile, “thou comest to
ask for death.”

“ How do you know?” murmured Michael, eahase

“Did I not tell thee that that little pipe which
thou holdest is the link that binds my world to thine?
Did I not tell thee that that which thou shouldst
breathe into it would be plainer to my ear than any
words? I did not guess then all that I meant, but the
sigh that thou didst breathe but now into that little reed
has come to me in my own speech. I understand all.”

“You know that, ere I pay the penalty of death,
I would fain carry the magic lilies to my beloved,
that she may believe in my love? You know that
I would die at her feet, and that that is the boon
I would beg?” asked Michael, wondering.
154 Lily and Water-Lily.

 

“Ay, I know all,” repeated the little fairy; “I
know now what is the love of mortals. It is true
that it is sad, but it is good. It may be that I could
not have loved as mortals love, for I am only a fairy.
But even as the spirit of love in ¢ky heart perchance
opened thine eyes to behold me as some mortals
cannot do, so the love that I. have loved thee with
has made me nearer akin to the mortals, and through
thy own pipe hath thy complaint reached me in
mine own speech. I said the love of mortals was
selfish, but I, too, was selfish; yet it was because I
did not understand. I might have brought thee
sorrow, Michael, but now I would bring thee joy.”

She smiled upon him softly, still radiant and in-
tangible through the white marsh mist, her voice
only as the voice of a very woman.

“For, see’st thou, it shall not be that thou pay the
great penalty, Michael,” said she, tenderly. “For
thy first offence I have the right to forgive thee if .
I will, because I have suffered love for thee, and the
second thou shalt not commit. Nay, thou shalt not
The Romance of a Water-Lily. 155

 

need to commit it, for thy beloved shall not require
it of thee. Even as love hath opened my eyes, so
shall it open hers; even as love taught thee to see
the fairy in the flower, so shall it teach her.”

- The moon’s radiance had become softly dimmed as
Nerina spoke these last words, and the white phantom
mists crept closer around, and Michael bowed his
head, for he felt a strange sadness rise within him,
that struggled with a dawning hope.

There was a deep silence, and then a sound as of a
sob, and Michael lifted his head quickly, but there
was no one to be seen ; only out of the moonlit mists
the sweet voice came to him still.

“When I am gone,” it continued, and the sound
was glad, and not mournful, “one of my lilies shall
float to thee upon the bosom of the stream. Pluck it
up by the roots, and carry it to thine own home and
to thy beloved. It shall be the proof that verily thou
hast communed with a fairy, and it shall grow for
ever for thee as a pledge of love, for it shall be
deathless.”
I 56 ~ Lily and Water-Lily.

There was another pause, and again a sound as of
sobbing on the night air, and when Nerina spoke again
her voice was as though very far off.

“Farewell, Michael!” it murmured. “Me thou wilt
see no more, for I go back to the home of the fairies.
But I thank thee that thou camest, for I am glad that
I have loved a mortal. Farewell! Fear nothing!
Thou shalt not die. Thou shalt live by thy love.
See, thy beloved awaiteth thee. Live and rejoice.”

The voice was now but as the sigh of the cool night
breeze, and as the murmur of the rippling water came
a last word, “Farewell!” And the echo sent it
back again from the rocks of Ai, “ Farewell, Michael,
farewell!”

The moon broke clear again from the cloud, and
the mists slowly parted, and, lo! Nerina was no more ;
only the tall rushes bowed themselves gravely over
the green water as though in sad and silent homage,
and the white lilies floated on the breast of the stream
where the silver light pricked the crest of the wave-
lets, but hard by upon the moist bank crouched Salome,
sobbing.
CE-OF-A-WATER - LILY:

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The Romance of a Water-Lily. 159

 

And her tears fell as soft rain on Michael’s parched
soul, and he leapt forward and clasped her to his breast.

For aspace they stood thus, and then Salome spoke
amid her tears.

“TI came to save thee,” faltered she ; “and yet it is
not I who have saved thee—it is she, the sweet fairy.
But for her I should have lost thee and have been for
ever miserable. Unhappy me! Ah, Michael! how
can it be that thou dost not love her better than me
—who have been so hard and so cruel to thee?”

“My beloved,” he answered, “methinks thou art
she and she is thou. It was love for thee that first
made her visible to me in the heart of the flowers ; it
is love for me that has made her clear now to thine
eyes, Wewill never forget her, for in our very love
is she remembered, and if the world should ever dim
or tarnish it, we will find it again in the heart of the
Rhone lily.”

THE END.
. LONDON:
PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, -
STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS.
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