said,
“Then, if you think there is a woman fairer than I, look at my beads, and now, that you see their colours in the sun, say if you ever saw such jewels before.”
“It is true I have never seen beads like yours, but I have a necklace here, which pleases me better;” and from his pocket he drew the haws and acorns, which he had strung together.
“What is that necklace, and where did you get it? Show it to me!” cried Fiorimonde; but Gervaise held it out of her reach, and said,
“I like my necklace better than yours, Princess; and, believe me, there is no necklace like mine in all the world.”
“Why; is it a fairy necklace? What does it do? Pray give it to me!” cried Fiorimonde, trembling with anger and curiosity, for she thought, “Perhaps it has power to make the wearer beautiful; perhaps it was worn by the woman whom he thought more beautiful than I, and that is why she looked so fair.”
“Come, I will make a fair exchange,” said Gervaise. “Give me your necklace and you shall have mine, and when it is round your throat I will truthfully say that you are the fairest woman in the world; but first I must have your necklace.”
“Take it, then,” cried the Princess, who, in her rage and eagerness, forgot all else, and she seized the string of beads to lift it from her neck, but no sooner had she taken it in her hands than they fell with a rattle to the earth, and Fiorimonde herself was nowhere to be seen. Gervaise bent down over the necklace as it lay upon the grass, and, with a smile, counted thirteen beads; and he knew that the thirteenth was the wicked Princess, who had herself met the evil fate she had prepared for so many others.
“Oh, clever Princess!” cried he, laughing aloud, “you are not so very clever, I think, to be so easily outwitted.” Then he picked up the necklace on the point of the sword and carried it, slung thereon, into the council chamber, where sat the King surrounded by statesmen and courtiers busy with state affairs.
“Pray, King,” said Gervaise, “send someone to seek for Princess Fiorimonde. A moment ago she played with me at ball in the garden, and now she is nowhere to be seen.”
The King desired that servants should seek her Royal Highness; but they came back saying she was not to be found.
“Then let me see if I cannot bring her to you; but first let those who have been longer lost than she, come and tell their own tale.” And, so saying, Gervaise let the necklace slip from his sword on to the floor, and taking from his breast a sharp dagger, proceeded to cut the golden thread on which the beads were strung and as he clave it in two there came a mighty noise like a clap of thunder.
“Now;” cried he, “look, and see King Pierrot who was lost,” and as he spoke he drew from the cord a bead, and King Pierrot, in his royal clothes, with his sword at his side, stood before them.
“Treachery!” he cried, but ere he could say more Gervaise had drawn off another bead, and King Hildebrandt appeared, and after him came Adrian, and Sigbert, and Algar, and Cenred, and Pharamond, and Raoul, and last of the princes, Gervaise’s own dear master Florestan, and they all denounced Princess Fiorimonde and her wickedness.
“And now,” cried Gervaise, “here is she who has helped to save you all,” and he drew off the twelfth bead, and there stood Yolande in her red dress; and when he saw her Gervaise flung away his dagger and took her in his arms, and they wept for joy.
The King and all the courtiers sat pale and trembling, unable to speak for fear and shame. At length the King said with a deep groan,
“We owe you deep amends, O noble kings and princes! What punishment do you wish us to prepare for our most guilty daughter?” but here Gervaise stopped him, and said,
“Give her no other punishment than what she has chosen for herself. See, here she is, the thirteenth bead upon the string; let no one dare to draw it off, but let this string be hung up where all people can see it and see the one bead, and know the wicked Princess is punished for her sorcery, so it will be a warning to others who would do like her.”
So they lifted the golden thread with great care and hung it up outside the town-hall, and there the one bead glittered and gleamed in the sunlight, and all who saw it knew that it was the wicked Princess Fiorimonde who had justly met her fate.
Then all the kings and princes thanked Gervaise and Yolande, and loaded them with presents, and each went to his own land.
And Gervaise married Yolande, and they went back with Prince Florestan to their home, and all lived happily to the end of their lives.
The Wanderings of Arasmon
Long ago there lived a wandering musician and his wife, whose names were Arasmon and Chrysea. Arasmon played upon a lute to which Chrysea sang, and their music was so beautiful that people followed them in crowds and gave them as much money as they wanted. When Arasmon played all who heard him were silent from wonder and admiration, but when Chrysea sang they could not refrain from weeping, for her voice was more beautiful than anything they had ever heard before.
Both were young and lovely, and were as happy as the day was long, for they loved each other dearly, and liked wandering about seeing new countries and people and making sweet music. They went to all sorts of places, sometimes to big cities, sometimes to little villages, sometimes to lonely cottages by the seashore, and sometimes they strolled along the green lanes and fields, singing and playing so exquisitely, that
