He trudged on both day and night, making great haste, for he knew that the seven years were almost gone, and he was afraid lest already he might be too late, and find that Joan had married someone else. At last, after many weary miles, he reached her country, and drew near to the palace where she lived, and here he found that the people were all decorating their houses, and making preparations as if for some great festival.
He stopped and begged for food from a woman who stood by a cottage door, and when she had given him some bread, as he ate it he asked her to tell him what went on in the country, and why there was such rejoicing.
“It is for the marriage of the King’s daughter Joan,” said the woman; “Tomorrow she is to be married to old King Lambert, and the wedding will be very grand, but none of the country folk like it, for he is old and ugly, and they say he does not love her at all, but only marries her that he may be king of this country as well as his own. The Queen is in sore distress about it, and for seven years refused her consent; but they will be over tomorrow, and so they will be wed, and the guests are already beginning to arrive at the palace, and each one brings some splendid gift.”
“I will be a guest at that wedding,” cried Michael; “And I bring the best gift of all for the bride;” and he hurried on again, not heeding the woman’s scorn and laughter.
When he came to the palace, he found that it was hung with flags, and arches of flowers were erected in front of it, and grand lords and ladies, and servants stood at the door to receive the guests who came.
Michael went as near as he dared, afraid lest he should be driven away by the servants, and then he saw a little foot-page, and he went to him and said,
“Please tell me where is the Princess Joan, and what she is doing.”
“She is sitting with the King and Queen and King Lambert in the stateroom, to receive the guests and accept the presents they bring,” said the page.
“I am a guest, and I bring a present for her,” cried Michael; “Tell me how I shall get into the palace that I may give it to her.”
On hearing this the page burst out laughing, and told the other servants what he said. And they were very angry, and seized Michael, and some would have ducked him in the pond, and some would have taken him before the King, but they said, “Not now—wait till the wedding is over tomorrow, and then we will see how he will punish the beggar-man for his impertinence.”
So they took him off to a stone tower outside the garden gates and thrust him into it, and locked the door, and there was only one little window high up and barred across with bars, and from it he could see the palace and the gardens.
Then at last he gave way to despair. “Of what avail were all my years of toil, and for what am I gray and old before my time,” he cried, “if after all, when I have earned that for which I worked so long, I may not give it to Joan, but must remain a prisoner and see her pass by to marry someone else?” and he threw himself on the ground and cried aloud.
At night as he lay and mourned, he heard sounds of merrymaking, and music and laughter from the castle. Sometimes he called out, “Joan! Joan! I am here—I who have worked for you for years, and brought home your stolen heart, and now will you wed King Lambert in spite of all?” sometimes he beat against the bars of the prison window, but all in vain, and at last, when all sound had ceased from the castle, he lay silent upon the ground, caring no more for life.
When the sun rose, and there was again a stir without, he got up and looked from the window, and saw the old nurse who walked by herself in the garden, and she looked very sad. Then Michael called out, “Do you not know me? You at least, who bid me go, and praised me then, should remember me now.” On hearing this the old nurse drew near the prison window, and looked at him, and said, “Who are you, and why are you here? My eyes are old, and my ears are deaf, but I think I have seen you, and heard your voice before.”
“Seven years ago,” said Michael, “I too was a bridegroom, who came to wed your Princess, and for seven long years have I worked, that I might bring home to her the heart she had not. Go and ask your Queen, why she has broken her pledge to wait for seven years, till Prince Michael should return.”
“Prince Michael! Is it really Prince Michael?” cried the old nurse joyfully. “And you come in time, for our Princess is not married yet, and she must pass by here, on her way to church. So you shall call to her as she passes by, and speak for yourself.”
“Then keep near and tell me when she comes,” said Michael, “lest she go by without seeing me.”
Presently the whole castle was astir, and trumpets were sounding, and clarions ringing. Then when the sun was high, Michael heard the tramping of horses, and the sound of music, and the old nurse said to him, “Here she is,” and he looked between the bars of the prison window and saw a grand procession, and his heart gave a bound, for in their midst, in a golden gown, and seated on a white palfrey, was Princess Joan, and she looked just as lovely as when he went away seven years before.
On one side of her
