“That,” said the shepherd, “is my grandmother, and she is reputed one of the wisest women in the countryside, but she is aged and weak, and speaks but seldom.”
Now as soon as supper was ended, the company drew around the fire, and the shepherd begged his guests to relate the story of their wanderings.
“My father is a mighty king,” the princess made answer, “and dwells in a city many leagues distant. Not long ago a strange series of misfortunes befell us. One night as I stood by my window and looked out upon the palace garden, I saw that a fairy was pillaging the blossom of the king’s favourite almond-tree, and I called in haste to my waiting-woman, and pointed the strange sight out to her, but she protested that she could see nothing, and the next morning she went and told my parents what had taken place. The night following I stood again by my window, looking out upon the terrace, and this time I saw a fairy luring away the queen’s favourite peacock. Again I called to my waiting-woman, for I was afraid, but again she declared that she could see nothing. The next morning the faithless woman went once more to my parents, and told them what had befallen, and this time she even dared assure them that I must be a witch, for had there indeed been a fairy in the castle she would certainly have seen it as well as myself. At first my parents were unwilling to credit her charge, for, said the king my father, the almond-tree had most assuredly been plundered, though none knew by whom, and, said the queen my mother, that the peacock was lost there could be no doubt. Nevertheless, they were both much disturbed, and bade the woman watch me narrowly. Now as evening fell I was sitting in my bower, when all at once I heard a sound behind me as of breaking flax, and turning round I saw a fairy standing in the middle of my room, breaking the flax that hung upon my golden spinning-wheel. Then I became frightened, and pointed her out to my waiting-woman, but again she said she saw nothing. The next day when my parents heard what had happened, they summoned me to their presence and questioned me, and I could but affirm that each time I had seen a fairy, though my waiting-woman had seen none. Now the king my father lives in great dread of witches and their charms, and forthwith he charged me with witchcraft, because I saw things that were not good to see, and which were hidden from other folk, and when my mother pleaded for me he would not listen, but said that there was a spell upon the palace and that I must go, or else no one could tell what might come of it, and he sent me away. But indeed, good people, I am no witch, yet the fairies I did most assuredly see, three several times.”
After that the apprentice also told his story, and how the cobbler had blamed him for the boggart’s pranks, and had driven him out. “Yet I am unjustly accused,” said he, “for I myself saw the boggart at his work, not once nor twice.”
“These are the strangest tales that ever I heard!” cried the shepherd.
“The old grandmother is learned in fairy lore,” added his wife; “it may be that she can solve the riddle.” When she heard that, the princess rose, and went to the dark corner where the old crone sat, and knelt down beside her.
“Tell me, I pray you, good mother,” said she, “how comes it that this stranger and I both saw the fairies where others saw none?” But the old crone only blinked at her with dull eyes, and made no reply.
“It is a king’s daughter who kneels to you, granddame,” cried the shepherd, “will you not give her an answer?”
“A peaked cap and fernseed,” muttered the old hag, “the boggart put on his peaked cap, and the fairies carried fernseed.”
“But whoever carries fernseed becomes invisible,” said the princess, “and in spite of that I saw them.”