“Yes, your Majesty; it’s under the beech tree,” replied Berl eagerly.
“Then I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said the King. “As the Queen has pardoned Lurina, of course she can’t go back, as no faery likes to live in your world; but the faery Mala has been very naughty of late, so I will condemn her to inhabit your wife’s body, and stay in exile until she is good enough to come back to court.”
“But that won’t be Lurina,” said Berl.
“She will wear Lurina’s body,” replied Oberon, laughing; “and no one but yourself will be the wiser. Leave the forest at once, and to-morrow morning you will see your wife come to the cottage door. Strike up, music!”
Whereupon the faery music began to play loudly—the blue bells rang merry chimes, the grasshoppers creaked gaily, and the wind commenced to sigh among the forest leaves.
Berl dare not disobey the King’s command, and, after seeing Oberon return to the throne of white lilies, and all the faeries commence their dance again, he arose to his feet. As he did so, he accidentally dropped the rowan twig, which was snatched up by a faery at once, and then the whole of the faery revel vanished. Berl could see nothing of the dancing, nor hear anything of the music, but only beheld the smooth green lawn, the myriad trees around, and the round orb of the moon.
There was nothing left to do but to return home, which he did at once, and you may be sure he got very little sleep that night. At early dawn he was standing at his cottage door, looking towards the wood, when he beheld Lurina tripping gaily towards him, singing merrily. When she saw Berl, she flung herself into his arms.
“Dear Berl, here I am at last!” she cried, kissing him.
“But you are the faery Mala,” said Berl, looking at her in perplexity.
“Who is the faery Mala?” asked Lurina, who had forgotten all about her faery existence now she was in a human body. “I never heard of her. I went into the forest and fell asleep, I suppose. When I awoke I came straight back to you.”