Here she stopped, and taking the candle, planted it firmly in the ground and lit it. The wind blew and the rain fell, but the candle burnt on steadily. All at once there was the sound of a hiss like a serpent’s hiss, and in front of Zaire was the ugly figure of a grizzly hag clothed in black. Round her head she wore a crown of twisted living snakes, who moved their heads and spit venom on all sides. In her hand, which was more like a claw than a hand, she carried a staff, round which twined a snake who had seven heads, the first a serpent’s, the second a monkey’s, the third a toad’s, the fourth a vulture’s, the fifth a tiger’s, and the sixth and seventh a man’s and a woman’s; and all the heads hissed and chattered and spit and shrieked with anger. About her feet crawled frogs and toads and loathsome reptiles of all sorts, but most hideous of all was her face, for it was so seamed and wrinkled with rage and anger that it looked more like a fiend’s than a woman’s.
“What do you want with me?” she hissed in a voice that made Zaire tremble. “Speak—what is your wish?”
Then Zaire pointed to the rose-tree, and said, “Tell me how to kill that tree.”
The hag chuckled, and drew from her bosom a small viper, which she held out to Zaire, who trembled still more, but took it in her hand and held it, though it was as cold as stone and very slimy.
“Take that,” croaked the witch, “and dig to the roots of the rose-tree. Lay it among them and it will twist around them, and as it tightens its hold so shall the tree die.”
“Who are you, and what is your name?” gasped Zaire.
“I am Envy,” answered the hag; and then again Zaire heard a long low hiss, and the old woman had disappeared and left her alone still holding the cold slimy viper. At once she returned to the palace, and took it to a light when no one was watching her. It was bright green, and glittered as it moved. Its eyes were flaming scarlet, and from its mouth came a long forked tongue, and it hissed spitefully, but it did not attempt to hurt Zaire, and she kissed and caressed it, then hiding it in her bosom went back to dance at the ball.
Next morning, as was her wont, Queen Blanchelys came down with the baby in her arms to her rose-tree, and Zaire stepped out from behind the tree and watched her as before.
“Ah, my sweet tree, each day you are more beautiful, and I am happier,” said Queen Blanchelys, and she put her white arms round the tree-trunk and laid her cheek against it and caressed it as before.
“Your pet seems well, cousin Blanchelys,” said Zaire, coming to where she stood.
“What! are you there, cousin Zaire?” said Blanchelys, drawing back from the tree.
“And see, I have also a new pet,” said Zaire; and she drew from her bosom the cold long snake, and let it twist about her arms and throat.
“What hideous creature have you there, cousin Zaire?” cried Blanchelys, trembling and hiding her eyes from the snake.
“You have a pet, why should I not have one also?” said Zaire, as she kissed the snake’s glittering green head.
“But you will surely not make a pet of that dreadful snake?” said Blanchelys. “Dear cousin Zaire, throw it away, and I will give you a beautiful pet—a dove, or a gazelle, or a rose-tree like mine.”
“I would not change my snake for anything in all the wide world,” said Zaire; and her eyes glittered almost like the snake’s own, as she turned away still fondling it; but Queen Blanchelys shuddered, and felt very sad, though she knew not why.
Zaire waited till night, and then she took a spade and went into the garden to dig at the roots of the rose-tree. It was quite dark, and no one could see her. She dug and dug till she came to the long deep roots that went far into the earth, and then she stood on the ground beside the hole and took the snake from her bosom and kissed it.
“Pretty snake,” she said softly, “tighten about the roots of the tree, and kill it as quickly as you can, that it may die and cousin Blanchelys may mourn.”
Then she took the snake in her little white hand and placed it among the tree’s roots. For a moment it lay quite still, then it began to coil itself slowly about them, and to twist itself round and round them.
Zaire laughed as she watched it. “Goodbye, sweet snake,” she said; “do your work well.” Then she filled up the hole with earth and smoothed the top so that no one should see.
Next day when Queen Blanchelys came to look at her tree she found it drooping, so she called to the gardeners to give it water, but not all the water in the world could refresh it, and each day it drooped more and more, and the flowers began to die and fall away. Poor Queen Blanchelys watched it with tears in her eyes. She sent for gardeners from far and near, but they could do nothing for it, and the Queen was sick at heart, and grew pale and thin, for she knew that her husband was beginning to love her less and less, Every day he rode out hunting with Zaire, and at all the Court balls he danced with no one else. Queen Blanchelys mourned in silence till the last leaf fell from her tree.
“Now I will stay here no longer,” she said, “since my tree is dead and my husband no longer loves me. I will go and find Love, and ask him to help me.” So she rose in the night, and wrapped
