“Ah, Lamorna!” he sighed to himself, “when we were children you said you loved me, and promised me to be my wife, and now you will not speak to me, though you know how I love you.”
The water people had all gathered around his boat, and when they heard this they shook their heads and looked very grave.
“So it is all for Lamorna,” cried one, “worthless Lamorna, who does nothing but look at her own reflection, and loves nothing so much as her own pretty face.”
“Who is she,” said another, “that she should scorn the love of a good young man like Erick? She has nothing but her good looks, and they will soon leave her. How can we punish her?”
“Nay,” said a third; “what good will it do to Erick for us to punish her? Rather let us think how we can cure her of her vanity and win him her love.”
“But you can never cure her of her vanity;” said the first, “as long as she can see herself in her looking-glass or the brook; while she can see her own face, she will continue to be vain and foolish.”
“Then what is to be done?” they cried all together; and there was silence, till at last a very wise old water elf spoke up and said—
“We cannot keep her from looking in glasses or in the brook. There is only one thing, therefore, to be done. It will be difficult, but it is quite possible. We must wait till she is leaning over the water looking at herself, and then we must steal her reflection.”
On hearing this all the elves gave a loud cheer. “You have got it,” they cried. “Ah, what a fine thing it is to have a mind like that!”
“If my poor dear son had not imprudently gone over the top looking after a flying fish, and so been suffocated, he would have grown up just such another,” said a lady elf with a sigh.
“With such a mind as that,” said another old lady elf solemnly, “one could rule countries or take cities.”
On this, the old elf who had made the suggestion bowed all round and smiled pleasantly, for he was a great favourite with the lady elves, and prided himself on his good manners.
“We now have to think,” he went on, “how this can be done, for reflections are such difficult things to keep under water when one has got them, and rise to the top like bubbles. We must make a number of sand ropes to catch it with, and all pull it down together at a given signal.”
“But,” said a very young elf, “she still will be able to go and look at herself in her looking-glass.”
On hearing this the elves all burst into a scornful laugh, and would have scolded the young elf for talking about what he did not understand; but the wise old elf stopped them with a wave of his hand, and said that he himself would explain to the young elf his mistake, as he was never angry with ignorance in the young, but he wished rather to correct it than blame it.
“Do not suppose, my young friend,” he said, blandly, “that people have more than one reflection. It is a common mistake to suppose so, but in reality there is only one reflection to each object; only, as the object moves before a glass, the reflection moves too, so that all sides of it are shown. If we can steal this vain girl’s image as she leans over the brook, she will not be able to see herself in any glass.” He stopped, and all the elves applauded his wisdom again; and the young elf felt quite ashamed of his mistake.
But now everyone began to think of how this thing was to be done, and all busied themselves making sand ropes, with which the reflection was to be caught and tied. They agreed that it could be best secured by moonlight, when the water was very smooth; and on every moonlight night some of them waited near the surface, to see if it appeared, and give warning to the others.
But Lamorna of course knew nothing of all these plans, and was still happy looking at herself in her glass, and never thinking of poor Erick.
When he came to see her in the evening, and sat by the fire watching her, she did not notice him, but kept her eyes fixed on the mirror over the chimneypiece, and if he spoke to her of his love, she would laugh and turn away. Then if he sighed she would laugh still more and say—
“Get yourself a wife, my good Erick; that will stop your sighing.”
“I never can have any wife but you, Lamorna,” he would answer.
“Then you will have to wait a long time single,” she returned merrily; “I do not mean to marry for ages—perhaps never—certainly not a fisherman.”
One night, when he went in to see her, he found her standing at the door looking at the moon, which shone brightly.
“Let us take a walk,” he said; “let us go down to the sea.”
“Yes,” said Lamorna, “I will come;” and first she ran into the house, and fetched a scarlet handkerchief, and tied it over her head, not because she was cold, but because she thought it made her look prettier.
“Let us go down to the water’s edge,” said she, taking Erick’s arm; and then they strolled down to the beach together.
The sea was smooth as glass, and the bright big moon made it almost as bright as day. A row of steep rocks stood out into the sea, and on to these Lamorna would go, because she wanted to bend over and see herself in her scarlet handkerchief in the moonlight. So they sat down on the edge of the rocks, and Lamorna leaned down till she could see all her figure and her pretty face in
