"Thus no murder yet had stained the nation; and the white cross still remained amongst us, and we dwelt unchanged in our accustomed spot. But the servant, by remorse urged on, revealed the murder he had done. Then, loyal as was hitherto the nation, the crime so raised our indignation, that our duty we forgot.
"In the first tumult of their ire some of our fiercest spirits did conspire their monarch's blood to spill. They tore the thorns from the stem of the rose, and the strongest and longest and sharpest they chose to work their wicked will. Beneath their mantles green they hid the spears; and sought their king, the curse-beladen one, who again in the tulip lay alone in sorrow and in tears. Wildly they the stem ascended, and in their rage they struck the deadly blow; they pierced him till his heart's blood forth did flow,—and with his life, his sorrow ended.
"Now the sinful deed was done,—now our innocence was gone! Heaven withdrew its sheltering hand. The white cross the old man had given, the token of our bond with heaven,—vanished from the land! And as we flocked together trembling, we heard a rushing through the air, as if fierce winds in conflict were. Devouring grief our hearts distracted; our delicate limbs all suddenly contracted, and into ugly worms we turned!
"Yet as we were not guilty all of the vile crime that caused our fall, the fair light still upon our foreheads burned. And as we sat in fear and gloom, a shrill voice thus pronounced our doom.
"Henceforth as homeless worms, away, away!—wander and stray, here and there, and up and down, until at length ye place the crown on the brow of the child who by your king's decree was sunk amid the waves of the foaming sea. Far, far from hence is his dwelling-place, and he seems like a child of the human race,—but him ye shall know by the star on his brow.
"'Your lost cross, too, ye must find once more, which he is destined to restore; when your king and your cross shall again be found, your penance shall end and the spell be unbound.'
"The gay-dressed elves who had their king deceived by treachery and lies, were, like ourselves, transformed, and became butterflies.
"Soon as we heard our melancholy doom, we fled, and traversed many a distant land,—ever peering through the gloom, into each little sleeping-room; peeping about us all the night, in hope to see the twinkling light on the brow of some fair boy. And we looked on many a blessed child, who in his sleep so sweetly smiled, that we would have chosen him with joy,—but the star was wanting still."
"Poor worms!" said Julius; "and thus you still are seeking now, the boy with the star upon his brow?"
"Oh! no my child! by Heaven led, we have found the child with the light on his head; and now I will tell what him befel.