CHAPTER XV.
TEARS AND SMILES.
NOW it happened that on this very day Myrtle and Rosebud had planned a visit to the town. Myrtle said they would first try their luck there, as little pedlers, before venturing farther. He would rise before daybreak and go out with the boat, and if he made a good catch, they would take, besides the shell-work, fresh fish, to sell by the way. Long before the girls were stirring, therefore, he was far out upon the waters.
Bess and Judy were full of wonder at the courage of Rosebud, in daring to venture upon so long a journey. Never in their lives had they seen the town. They were, however, quite ready to help; prepared the breakfast, tidied the hut, drove the geese to water, and assisted in packing the shell-baskets.
When all was in readiness, the three went out to sit upon the rocks and there await the coming of Myrtle. The children of the shore, with their baskets, gathered around them; for all had heard of the coming journey to the town.
Presently the boat appeared in sight. On it came, bounding over the waves, and rapidly approached the shore. All the children stood still, watching the little boat, and admiring the skill with which Myrtle directed its course.
All but Rosebud. She, as was her custom, ran down to meet him at the water’s edge, her fair curls streaming, her green robes fluttering in the wind. She laughed aloud and clapped her hands, while waiting for Myrtle to call to her from the boat.
“Rosebud! Rosebud!” he cried, at last, as the boat touched the shore, “such a catch of fish! we will take some to the town, and spread some to dry on the rocks, and some we will—”
But here he was interrupted by loud cries from the children, who came running to them, calling out, that there were, O so many horses, and soldiers, and coaches larger than their hut, all covered with gold and silver, and great lords in purple and scarlet with gay feathers and jewels, all sparkling and shining! Rosebud and Myrtle must run quick! Quick!
But there was no need to run far, for all these wonders were speedily drawing near. A few moments, and soldiers, chariots, and horses covered the sands.
The great state coach of King Brondé was in advance of all the rest. Its door flew open, and Rosebud, with a cry of joy, sprang forward.
Rosebud, the lonely wanderer, Rosebud, the long-lost child, was in the arms of her mother!
Then from the great company assembled there arose a shout both long and loud, which made the heavens ring. And in the midst of all could be heard and seen Bertha, clapping her hands and dancing for joy.
It was a long time before the happy family within the coach could do more than to embrace one another, and to weep tears of happiness. But at length King Brondé desired to be conducted to the hut, which had for so long been the home of his child.
A portion of the doorway was hewn down, and into that humble dwelling King Brondé entered, and there sat down with the Lily Queen and with Rosebud, while all the children of the shore stood outside lost in wonder, answering, as best they might, the various questions put to them by the lords and nobles.
King Brondé, having learned the character of the old woman, ordered the hut to be searched, and in the cellar were found concealed many costly jewels. These he commanded should be carefully packed and taken to his palace, and there kept until the old woman could be brought and made to tell who were their rightful owners.
This being settled, King Brondé and his queen were eager to set out for their own kingdom. But Rosebud would first bid farewell to the children of the shore; and also to Bess and Judy, who were weeping bitterly. What could they do without Rosebud? She had been so gentle with them, and so kind. Must they lose that sunny smile? The hut would be dark and lonely now!
The other children were standing sorrowfully by; and when Rosebud would have bidden them farewell, they with one accord burst into tears.
Poor Rosebud, she must needs weep too! For they had loved her, and she had loved them, every one.
But where was Myrtle? Had any one seen Myrtle? All began to look about and to inquire. But no one had seen him, since he first leaped ashore with his basket of fish.
At length one little girl whispered to Rosebud, pointing at the same time to a clump of bushes at a little distance.
And there she found him, lying upon the ground, crying as if his very heart would break.
Rosebud begged him not to cry, but to arise, come to the hut, and see her father and mother,—her father and mother, of whom they had so often talked. They need not be little pedlers, now.
But he would not be persuaded, and Rosebud returned sorrowfully to the hut.
“But who is this Myrtle?” asked King Brondé.
Then Rosebud told how good Myrtle was, and how they had played together, and sailed together, and of their plans, and of all his kindness to her ever since she came to the shore.
“And why not take Myrtle?” asked the Lily Queen; “surely our coach is big enough to hold him, and surely our palace is big enough to receive him, and surely our hearts are big enough to love one who has been so good to our Rosebud!”
“Very true!” cried King Brondé.
Rosebud flew once more to the clump of bushes. “Myrtle! Myrtle!” she cried, “you are to go with us! to go! to go! to go! In my father’s coach! And live in my father’s palace! Myrtle! do you hear?”
No wonder she asked, “Do you hear?” For the poor boy was so overwhelmed, first by his grief, and then by his joy, that he seemed to have lost all power of speech and motion.
But Rosebud urged him to rise, and then led him to the same spot where she had once advised him to wash his face in the spring. And here she bade him bathe his swollen eyes, and smooth his hair, that the king and queen might see what a handsome Myrtle he was.
But alas! so red was his face and so inflamed by weeping, that she was obliged to tell them this herself. And they were quite ready to believe it.
King Brondé now gave Rosebud money to distribute among her late companions, and there was not one who did not get a bright gold piece, or who did not preserve it carefully as a remembrance of one they had loved so well. Bess and Judy, at Rosebud’s request, were given in charge to some of the attendants, that they might also be taken home, and provided for in a comfortable manner.
All now being ready, the joyful party entered the coach. Drums beat, bugles played, the twenty white horses arched their proud necks and stepped gayly off to the sound of the music. And side by side with the great state coach came another royal chariot, wherein sat Bertha, smiling-faced Bertha, with her father the king. Behind followed all their lords, nobles, attendants, and bands of soldiers,—a numerous train.
The children of the shore stood watching till the last plume of the last soldier disappeared, then turned sorrowfully toward their homes.
Who can speak of the happiness of that homeward journey? When the Lily Queen could spare Rosebud from her own embrace, King Brondé would sit for hours with her clasped in his arms, looking down into her face, and stroking her hair softly and tenderly, as if each touch conveyed a blessing. And as for Myrtle, so great was his joy, that he scarcely knew whether he were waking or dreaming. So he rolled himself up in one corner of the coach, gazing at the pale Lily Queen, and the big handsome King Brondé in his royal robes and his golden crown, and wondered how long they would let the poor little fisher-boy stay in their palace.
Thus this great company journeyed home. As soon as the towers of the city came in sight, King Brondé ordered a bright flag to be raised, for this was the signal agreed upon in case the search should prove successful. As they drew nearer, troops of mounted soldiers came out to meet them; also bands of music and a great multitude of lords and ladies of the court, in their fine gilded coaches, all in grand array. Also one hundred young nobles, in shining steel armor, and all mounted upon jet black horses, whose trappings were of pure gold.
Like a triumphal procession they entered the city, bugles playing, trumpets sounding, drums beating, banners streaming, horses prancing, plumes waving, and were met by the people with wild huzzas. And years and years after, mothers related to their children the story of the wonderful day when good King Brondé brought home his lost child.