“This is the dwarf’s treasure,” continued the white witch, again making the magic sign so that cowslips covered the ground as before, “but generations ago, when man first came to live upon this coast, and built the Abbey and the town, the dwarfs fled further inland towards the mountains, to escape from human dwellings. And since they had more treasure than they could carry with them, they buried this great hoard here. I will give it to you as your dowry, so that your father may do no hurt to his soul.”
Yolande fell at the witch’s feet to thank her, but when she had spoken her thanks, she confessed with a blush that it was not the rich farmer whom she loved, but his poor goatherd.
“I know that,” said the white witch smiling, “but this treasure of the dwarfs is more than the old farmer’s riches multiplied a thousandfold, so that your father will not stand in the way of your marriage with the man you love. But you must make haste. Go to your father, and tell him all that I have told you. Then when the black witch comes to market to hear his answer, he will be able to say that he will have nothing to do with her and her treasure.”
“How shall I know her?” asked Yolande.
“She will come to market,” said the witch, “riding on a donkey that has no cross upon its back. Moreover, when she reaches the brook that flows hard by the market-place, she will turn and go round by another way, since it is not lawful for an evil spirit to cross running water. Take these two straws, and when you and your father return home together, lay them on the ground behind you, across and across—so—and then she will not be able to bewitch you. If you should need my help again, call your name to the sevenfold echo on the beach, and I shall hear it and come to you.”
All fell out as the white witch had said, and great was the joy of the fisherman on hearing that a rich dowry was to fall to his daughter without his having to call the black witch to his help. He was glad of the two straws, however, for when she rode up to him and heard his answer, she was so angry that he quailed before her; but Yolande had seen and spoken with her lover, and both were so happy at the thought of their approaching marriage that they felt no fear.
But the black witch lost no time in setting about her revenge. She came to the goatherd in the guise of a peddling gipsy, and offered him for sale the picture of a beautiful maiden. Now over this picture the black witch had pronounced a charm, so that the goatherd could see nothing in it aright, but fancying it as fair as it seemed, fell so deeply in love with the beautiful face that he straightway ceased to love Yolande. The days went by; the goatherd did not keep his trysts with his betrothed, and when he met her he was cold and careless. Yolande wondered and wept, but could not solve the mystery.
At last she bethought her of the kindly white witch, so one day she went alone to the beach, and raising her voice, she called out “Yolande! Yolande!” in the hope that the white witch would befriend her a second time. The echo from the rocks caught up her cry and passed it on, one echo echoing another, till it reached the ears of the white witch, who came flying towards the coast in the form of a gull. High above the old Abbey she soared, on strong white wings, and flew to Yolande’s side.
“Tell me your trouble, child,” said she, assuming her own shape. So Yolande told her all that had happened.
“It is black art,” said the white witch, “your enemy has bewitched your lover. She has shown him the picture of a maiden whom he now loves instead of you. Look, Yolande, here is a mirror; what do you see in it?”