Roswal found himself alone at nightfall in the forest, as hungry as a hawk, and very much at a loss where to find food and shelter. He wandered along till he saw a little brown hut, under the branches of a wide-spreading oak-tree. Here, in the door, sat an old woman knitting, and Roswal's youth and beauty soon won his way into her affections. She led him into her house, gave him a good meal of brown bread, eggs, honey and milk, and a bed of clean straw. Roswal slept as sweetly as ever he had done on his golden bedstead and his pillow of down at home. Next day, he offered to work for the old woman, and set to cutting up wood and binding fagots cheerfully. For several months he lived thus, until the chamberlain of the King of Bealm chanced to pass that way. Taking a fancy to the handsome youth, he carried him off to court, where Roswal was appointed cup-bearer to the king's lovely daughter. His duties were light, and the princess was kind; so Roswal had little to complain of, until one day he heard it announced that Prince Roswal, of Naples, was about to wait upon the King of Bealm and demand his daughter's hand in marriage.
Roswal pricked up his ears at this, and immediately suspected the supposed Prince of Naples to be none other than his late travelling companion, the wicked steward; though, when he heard the princess say to her maidens that this Prince Roswal was remarkably pushing, considering that he had only recently presented a letter of introduction to them, and that, for her part,
she could not see what her papa found to fancy in the young man, Roswal rejoiced. He was delighted to find that the princess did not care for the impostor. Then he remembered his oath, never to reveal what the steward had done to him, and his spirits fell again.
In a day or two, the King of Bealm announced to his daughter that he had accepted the offer of the King of Naples' son, and that preparations for their marriage would immediately begin. The princess was very unhappy, for she had taken a great dislike to the pretended prince. Roswal met his late servant face to face at one of the bridal feasts, and the eyes of the steward fell before his scornful gaze. But he knew that he was safe in trusting Roswal's honor not to tell the secret, and so carried on his impudent pretence.
A tournament, lasting three days, was announced in honor of the wedding, which was soon to come off. Roswal found the Princess Lilian in tears about that time and, while endeavoring to console her, let her know, without intending it, that he, too, had fallen in love with her. This made the pretty princess so happy, that she confessed to Roswal she had loved him secretly ever since he was chosen to be her cup-bearer. She was sure he was of noble birth from his manners and appearance; and she urged him to admit that he was as worthy of her rank as of her love.
Tournament in honor of the Princess of Bealm.
Roswal was never so sorely tempted to reveal himself! He restrained the impulse to confess by a strong effort, and, alone and melancholy, wandered out into the forest—longing for an opportunity to enter the lists of the tournament and prove his knightly skill before the king and princess; and while he sat musing thus, there approached him a knight leading a magnificent white war-horse, on whose saddle was suspended a suit of splendid armor.
"Prince," said the strange knight, bowing low before him, "put on this armor, and mount this steed. The tournament has begun, and thou wilt be in time to prove thy prowess. I await here thy return."