All but Rosebud. She, as was her custom, ran down to meet him at the water’s edge, her fair curls streaming, her green robes fluttering in the wind. She laughed aloud and clapped her hands, while waiting for Myrtle to call to her from the boat.
“Rosebud! Rosebud!” he cried, at last, as the boat touched the shore, “such a catch of fish! we will take some to the town, and spread some to dry on the rocks, and some we will—”
But here he was interrupted by loud cries from the children, who came running to them, calling out, that there were, O so many horses, and soldiers, and coaches larger than their hut, all covered with gold and silver, and great lords in purple and scarlet with gay feathers and jewels, all sparkling and shining! Rosebud and Myrtle must run quick! Quick!
But there was no need to run far, for all these wonders were speedily drawing near. A few moments, and soldiers, chariots, and horses covered the sands.
The great state coach of King Brondé was in advance of all the rest. Its door flew open, and Rosebud, with a cry of joy, sprang forward.
Rosebud, the lonely wanderer, Rosebud, the long-lost child, was in the arms of her mother!
Then from the great company assembled there arose a shout both long and loud, which made the heavens ring. And in the midst of all could be heard and seen Bertha, clapping her hands and dancing for joy.
It was a long time before the happy family within the coach could do more than to embrace one another, and to weep tears of happiness. But at length King Brondé desired to be conducted to the hut, which had for so long been the home of his child.
A portion of the doorway was hewn down, and into that humble dwelling King Brondé entered, and there sat down with the Lily Queen and with Rosebud, while all the children of the shore stood outside lost in wonder, answering, as best they might, the various questions put to them by the lords and nobles.