“I want no husband whom I shall ever wed,” said Blanchelys sadly; and at that Zaire laughed the more.
One night when Zaire was sleeping soundly Blanchelys, who had lain awake all night, rose out of her little bed, and stepping softly to the window, looked out at the night. There were neither moon nor stars, and the night was very dark.
“I must be quick,” said Blanchelys, “for soon the sun will rise.”
So she dressed herself quickly, but she left her hair hanging down her back, and trod noiselessly to the cupboard, and softly opened the door. She took out the candle, and hid it in her bosom. Then she crept from the room, down the passage, and into the little garden. In the middle of the garden stood a great yew-tree, whose branches almost touched the ground. It looked like a great black giant in the night, and Blanchelys trembled as she looked at it; but she summoned her courage, and going up to the tree crept under its branches, and knelt down, leaning against the trunk. It was black, black night, but not a breeze was blowing, and it was as hot as if the sun was shining. Blanchelys stuck her candle firmly in the ground, and then lit it. Directly it began to burn, there came a little rustling sound through the trees like the flapping of doves’ wings, and then in front of where Blanchelys knelt, in the light of the candle she saw a boy, who was not like anyone she had ever seen before, so beautiful was he. He had curly golden hair, which spread round his head like a halo, and he wore on his hair a wreath of pink roses, and he carried a branch of roses in his hand. His robe was white, but it did not hide his bare feet, on which were golden sandals; and a golden girdle was round his waist. From his shoulders grew soft pink wings, and his face was as beautiful as an angel’s.
“I am Love. What do you want with me?” said the boy; and at the sound of his voice all the wood-doves in the neighbouring trees awoke and began to coo. But Blanchelys trembled and looked at him in silence; and he spoke again—
“Speak quickly—tell me what is your heart’s wish, for soon your candle will have burnt out, and then I shall vanish.” Then Blanchelys summoned all her courage, and clasping her hands, said in a low, trembling voice—
“Give me the love of the King’s son.”
Love looked at her for a moment, and he smiled and laughed low to himself; then he gently shook the branch of roses he carried, and into his hand from the heart of the roses fell some tiny seeds.
“Take them,” he said, holding them out to Blanchelys, “and plant them in the earth just as the sun is rising; but ere you cover them up breathe over them the name of him whose love you desire. From them will spring a rose-tree, and as it grows so his love for you will grow. While that tree lives he will love you more than all the world, but should it pine and die his love for you would wane and die also, and then only one thing in the world would make it live again. And beware of one thing, that is the prick of the thorns which grow upon the tree; for should one pierce your skin, and draw the blood, be it never so little, the wound will never heal, even if it do not kill you. Farewell, and see that you guard well your tree.”
“Stay for one moment,” entreated Blanchelys. “Tell me how and where I should seek you if I want to find you.”
“I am to be found in many places,” answered Love. “But I am often where you would never seek me, and seldom where you would look for me. Farewell!” And again there was a soft whirring of wings, and in a moment Love had disappeared, and the light from the candle died out, and Blanchelys was left alone under the tree in the dark night. The wood-doves stopped cooing, and all was still again. Then she rose from her knees, and turned into the house. She could not see the seeds in the darkness, but she grasped them firmly in one hand as she crept again into her little bed. Zaire moved in her sleep, but she did not wake.
As the first rays of the sun began to shine, Blanchelys arose again, and examined her seeds. They were more like jewels than seeds, for they were bright clear red, like rubies, and each one was in the form of a heart. Blanchelys kissed them, and then she sought about for a spot in which to sow them. At last she took a flowerpot and filled it with earth, and in it laid the seeds, and breathed over them the name of the King’s son, and covered them over with earth. Then she put the flowerpot in the window of her room. “Now I can watch it both night and day,” she said, “and see that no harm comes to it.”
That morning, when the King’s son rode past to the hunt, he stopped at the cottage door, and asked Blanchelys to give him a glass of water. It was the first time he had ever spoken to her, and her heart beat high with joy. At night, when she went to look at her flowerpot, she found that a tiny shoot was appearing above the earth in the pot.
Next day as
