And now Hugh, with his pockets laden with gold, walked over the hills to the enemy’s land, and ransomed his comrade Jocelyn and the dear friends with whom he had marched to battle on the moor.
Presently a just and mighty emperor compelled both kingdoms to make peace, and the men in red-and-white and the men in black-and-white went home to their fields and their dear ones gathered by the fire.
And Hugh and Jocelyn shared the treasure together, and their farms lay side by side.
THE CITY OF THE WINTER SLEEP
Once upon a time, by the banks of a noble river flowing to the sea through a mountain-girdled plain, stood a city of the wisest people in the world. Instead of spending the winter as others did, huddled over smoky fires, freezing ears and noses, bundling themselves up in a pother of clothes, and being cross at breakfast, these sensible folk simply retired to their dwellings, locked their doors, drew down their curtains, put on their nightcaps, got into bed, and slept the winter away. The north wind howled there about the shuttered houses and woke no citizen from his dreams; in the empty market place and the silent streets, stainless and untrodden lay the snow. But when the leaves were the size of a mouse’s ear, and the singing birds had returned from their winter pilgrimage, the sleepy citizens would wake, rub their eyes, stretch their arms, and come yawning to open their windows on the sunlight and the spring.
The King of this remarkable city, I must tell you, had three children, the two elder of whom were sons and the youngest a daughter. Now, as occasionally happens, the two sons were models of royal deportment, whilst their sister, the slender, dark-haired, and dark-eyed Princess Theolette, was as wilful and spirited as a mountain bird.
Now, on a day when the year was growing old and only a few half-withered flowers were to be gathered in the fields, it chanced that Theolette, who had been idling about with little to do, took it into her head to pay a visit to the royal library. It was very quiet there, the red autumn sun was shining through the great windows, a million motes of dust danced in the broad and ruddy beam, and Theolette, curled in a huge red-leather easy-chair, had great difficulty in keeping awake. Presently her eyes lit upon a large green book entitled, Winter Time, and this Theolette took from its place and opened in her lap.
Somewhat to her disappointment, the print within the old book was in a foreign language, but the pictures—they would have kept anyone from sleeping! There were pictures of snowy mountain-tops, of bright, frozen lakes with people skating on them, of attacks on snow forts, of snowstorms in pleasant country villages, and of belfries agleam with snow beneath the moon. Now, although Theolette had never seen the winter or any snow or ice and could hardly make anything out of some of the pictures, she could see well enough that here was something strange, and new, and wonderful indeed. And then and there she resolved to run away during the winter sleep, see the winter world, and return before the city woke to the coming of the spring!
Shorter grew the golden days, and longer the still cold nights, and presently the great day of the winter sleep was at hand. A trumpeter, posted in the tower of dreams, at sunrise called the city to its last morn of waking life; and scarce had his last notes faded, ere a murmur of bustle and preparations began to rise from every household in the town.
At sunset, in accordance with ancient custom, the edict of sleep was read to the people from a balcony of the palace. This venerable law, I must tell you, summoned all good citizens to go to sleep, and recited the dreadful penalties prepared for all who should dare to stay awake. When the gathering had melted away, and the streets were empty save for a hurrying citizen or two on some belated errand, the gates were locked and the waters of the river turned into the moat about the town.