Now it was in this very palace that all the pixie’s former nurslings had loitered and remained. The first had soon grown covetous of money, and became so skilful in the management of it that he was made Lord High Treasurer. He was now a very old man, and his one delight was to handle the gold pieces in the royal exchequer, which he did every day. The second had quickly learnt the art of lying, and soon flattered so adroitly that he was appointed court chaplain, and in every one of his sermons he told the king and queen what an excellent influence they exerted upon the court. “My dear,” said each to the other, “we are indeed fortunate to have secured so eloquent a preacher and so wise a man.” As for the third, he had fallen in love with the king’s daughter, and had married her, and now lived in the greatest pomp as the king’s son-in-law. Thus it came about that not one of the three nurslings had given another thought to the pixie, who had longed hourly for their homecoming.
But Sorrel took no delight in the splendours which he saw about him, for it seemed to him that the yellow gold was not half so pleasant to look at as the yellow waterlilies at home. The courtiers paid him well turned compliments upon his skill in music, but he noticed that for all their flattery they looked at him askance as soon as he began to speak about his mother and his life in the forest pool. As for the court ladies, so far from falling in love with any one of them, he thought them all quite ugly when he compared them with the beautiful pixie. The very next day he again set out upon his travels, and would not linger at the palace, because he had his mother’s quest at heart.
“And now, sister,” said Speedwell, breaking off suddenly, “I have come to the most difficult part in all my pattern, where one mistake would spoil the lace, so you had better tell the rest.”
“Willingly,” said Spirea, and she continued:—
“Beyond the city lay another great forest in which Sorrel wandered all day long without finding a way out. At last night fell, and he was just wondering whether he would have to seek shelter under a tree, when he heard the sound of a bell tolling near by, and soon came upon a hermitage which stood upon the edge of the forest, with a bare and lonely heath stretching away in front of it. Sorrel knocked at the door of the hut, whereupon an old hermit at once opened to him, and greeted him kindly.
“Come in,” said he, “all strangers are welcome here.” And he made Sorrel sit down, and gave him some rye bread and salt fish for his supper, with a mug of sour wine to drink.
“Have you come from far?” asked the old man.
“My home is in the forest on the other side of the city,” replied Sorrel.
“Are you a forester’s son then?” asked the hermit.
“No, good father,” replied Sorrel, and he began telling the old man all about his beautiful mother and his home, but no sooner had he uttered the first word about living under water, than the hermit started to his feet, and trembled all over with rage.