“Thank goodness I am a mermaid and not a woman,” she thought. “I cannot believe that anything to be found on land is as beautiful as our sea-treasures. How splendid the great pearls in the centre of the necklace would look in this brilliant light! When they are mine I must carry them up here some day for the sake of seeing them glisten on my neck in the sunshine.”
And her thoughts were so full of the jewels that she almost forgot what she had come for. Suddenly the sight of some red blossoms on a tree growing close to the water’s edge reminded her of what she was there to do, and she looked about her wondering how best to set to work. The wise men had described roses to her; they had even found a picture of one in a book about the plants of the land, so she knew very fairly well what it should be like and that it must have a delicious scent. But that was all, and though she saw fields and gardens not far off, she knew not how to get to them. Suddenly glancing in another direction she caught sight of a barge, its white sails gleaming like the wings of a great bird, at anchor some little way from the shore. To and from this barge little boats were coming and going, laden with baskets and cases. Ila swam quietly towards it, taking care to keep almost entirely under water, so that she should not be seen.
When she got quite close to the barge she saw that one of the little boats was approaching it, and this boat was filled with flowers and rowed by but one boy. The little vessel was in fact preparing for a pleasure trip, and the boats were employed in bringing all that could be wanted of decorations and provisions. The boy rowed quite close to the barge, and then throwing a rope on deck from his boat, he himself sprang on board to call some one to help him to unload his flowers.
Now was the mermaid’s chance—she swam up to the boat and stretching out her hand drew from a basket, filled with roses of all shades, the most beautiful red one she could see. She had no doubt of its being a rose, for the perfume had reached her even some little way off. The boy turned round at that moment and gave a cry of terror as he caught sight of a shining white arm and hand taking a flower from the basket of roses, and for long after, a story went about that the spirit of some one shipwrecked off that coast haunted that part of the bay.
But Ila only laughed at the boy’s fright, and swam off as fast as she could, delighted to have succeeded. She hid the rose carefully in the folds of the gauzy robe she wore, and after one breath of its fragrance prepared to hasten home as fast as she could go.
“The pearls are mine,” she thought with exultation, giving no thought to the poor Queen. “I can fancy already that I feel their smooth touch against my skin—so adorned I shall certainly be the most beautiful mermaid that has ever been seen.”
But alas for vain Ila’s hopes!
No sooner had she reached the bottom of the sea than she hastened to the palace, and sought at once for an audience of the King. Eager past words for her return, he hurried out to the hall where she stood.
“I have got it,” she exclaimed, and she slid her hand into the folds of her dress and drew out—a little crumpled rag—a few miserable leaves, sodden and colourless, with no scent or fragrance—the poor wretched ghost of what had once been a magnificent rose!
The King’s face fell. Ila gave a cry of despair.