"Now, my child, thou may'st be sure, full little could those elves endure that we, on our holy mission bound, the silence and darkness should chase away by our song, and our prayer, and our emerald ray,—hoping by that solemn sound to give the dead repose.
"Those who had drunk deep by day, roused by it could not sleep away the ill effects of their carouse, so they with aches and fevers rose. But those deceitful spoilers of the flowers, who trusted by night's shade protected to work their purpose undetected, had now to fast,—for as we passed, the flowers who loved to hear our song saw by our light, that pierced the night, their foes come creeping stealthily along. This with the jealousy within their hearts that glowed, because the star had not on them, too, been bestowed, between our tribes raised feud and jar,—whence bitter grief has grown. They had a king, to whom was known full many a spell of gramarye; 'twas said, that he a league had made with spirits lost, and by their aid could read the scroll of destiny. And there he found this dread decree, which told our coming misery:—
"'When the star-adorned race, shall fall from innocence and grace,—when their first murder shall be done,—when their monarch's first-born son by the waves of the sea shall swallowed be;—then vain shall be rendered their song and their prayer,—from amongst them the white cross shall disappear,—and to insects transformed they shall flutter and creep, doomed far from their own land to wander and weep. The fatal spell may be undone only by their king's lost son; but ere even he can set them free, he must their chosen sovereign be.'
"The king of the butterflies, when he heard this, began to consider how he might contrive to bring us to endless wretchedness; and as by magic he could appear in any form he chose to wear, an angel's guise he took one day, and neared the spot where our king lay deep sleeping in a tulip's cup. He by the rustling wakened up, was struck with wonder and pious awe, when he the angel near him saw; who thus in wicked words began:—
"'Thy loving wife shall bear a son to thee, of whom 'tis written in the Book of Fate, that if he be not whelmed beneath the sea, the elfin nation shall be desolate, and from their native country driven:—such is the mysterious will of Heaven. Therefore must thou this offering make for the elfin nation's sake; else thy people's love for thee, will turn to hatred when they see thou wilt not save them from their misery; and thou thyself a shameful death shalt die.'
"This said, the guilty wretch departed. No longer slept the king; but heavy hearted, he musing lay, till break of day. And lo! just as the sun his radiance bright o'er earth began to shed, the queen gave birth unto a child, lovely and innocent and mild, and small as a pin's head!
"The king looked on it, but no pleasure glowed in his heart at this new treasure; and as he gazed, an icy chill through all his members seemed to thrill; for love of his people, and desire to save his own life, did inspire his thoughts with a ferocious plan.
"He had a faithful serving-man, to whom his secret he confided; and to him command he gave to plunge the child beneath the wave, there to find a watery grave. The boy, however, did not perish:—how he escaped I shall tell thee hereafter.
THE PRINCE OF THE GLOW WORMS.