The children of the shore stood watching till the last plume of the last soldier disappeared, then turned sorrowfully toward their homes.
Who can speak of the happiness of that homeward journey? When the Lily Queen could spare Rosebud from her own embrace, King Brondé would sit for hours with her clasped in his arms, looking down into her face, and stroking her hair softly and tenderly, as if each touch conveyed a blessing. And as for Myrtle, so great was his joy, that he scarcely knew whether he were waking or dreaming. So he rolled himself up in one corner of the coach, gazing at the pale Lily Queen, and the big handsome King Brondé in his royal robes and his golden crown, and wondered how long they would let the poor little fisher-boy stay in their palace.
Thus this great company journeyed home. As soon as the towers of the city came in sight, King Brondé ordered a bright flag to be raised, for this was the signal agreed upon in case the search should prove successful. As they drew nearer, troops of mounted soldiers came out to meet them; also bands of music and a great multitude of lords and ladies of the court, in their fine gilded coaches, all in grand array. Also one hundred young nobles, in shining steel armor, and all mounted upon jet black horses, whose trappings were of pure gold.
Like a triumphal procession they entered the city, bugles playing, trumpets sounding, drums beating, banners streaming, horses prancing, plumes waving, and were met by the people with wild huzzas. And years and years after, mothers related to their children the story of the wonderful day when good King Brondé brought home his lost child.
CHAPTER XVI.
A DISCOVERY.
YEARS passed by, and happy years they were. Rosebud, as she grew older, was the same sweet-voiced, kindly maiden, winning love from all. People gazing at her beaming face asked themselves often what it was that so charmed them there. This which they could not name was the love-light, which shone through her eyes and lighted up her countenance; for the holy fire burned always in her heart, making her whole life pure and bright. The idol of the court, praised, petted, flattered, still was she not spoiled. Ah, Rosebud was far too modest, too humble for that. Real love not only brightens, but purifies, keeping away all evil.
As King Brondé had no son, he adopted Myrtle for his own. He provided for him the best instructors, and treated him in all things as if he were really his child.
And the youth grew up, stately and handsome as a young prince. He mingled freely with the young nobles of the court, and, by his gentle bearing and his true manliness, became a favorite with every one.