In her calm way, quite as triumphant as her sister mermaid had been, Orona swam back with all possible swiftness. She reached her own country without misadventure, and, smiling confidently, entered the great hall of the palace, where the King was awaiting her with intense eagerness.
“Success!” she exclaimed, as she drew out her leafy parcel. The outside looked green and fresh enough, but, alas! inside there was only the same miserable little bundle of colourless rags as Ila had brought back the day before—nay, of the two, to-day’s withered flower looked even less like a rose than the former one!
Orona clenched her hands in rage; the King’s face sank into utter despair, for the Queen’s state was considered worse this morning.
“Alas, alas!” he cried, as he turned away, “it is hopeless.”
But among those who overheard his words was one who was not satisfied with feeling very sorry for the poor King.
This was a little mermaid named Chryssa. She was younger than Ila and Orona, and she was of far less exalted position; in fact, she was scarcely more than a little servant in the Queen’s household. And probably no one would have spoken of her as beautiful if asked to describe her. But she was beautiful, nevertheless, and wonderfully sweet and loving; and the living being she loved the most in the world was the Queen. Of course, like every one else, Chryssa had heard all about the quest of the rose which was to cure the Queen; and now the thought struck her, could she, unknown to any one, try in her turn to bring the earth-flower fresh and fragrant which alone would have magic power to save her royal mistress’s life? There seemed something lucky in being the third to try, “and, at least,” thought Chryssa, “it would be, so far as I am concerned, ‘the gift of love,’ as the poor Queen keeps murmuring.”
She determined to make the endeavour; and late that night, just for fear of being seen—though she was so insignificant a person that there was not much chance of her being missed—she set off. She was not by nature so strong or courageous as Ila and Orona; she knew very little, indeed, of anything but her own sea home, as she had been treated like a child, and had never heard the stories and descriptions of the world above, which were often related to entertain the Queen and her ladies. No wonder her poor little heart almost failed her through the long dark journey up to land. And at first when she reached the surface all was still as dark there as below. But as she lay there panting, almost doubting if she had done well to come, up above, over the land, there shone out a marvellous light, which at once filled her with hope and joy. It was the moon—slowly the silvery lamp glided out from behind the clouds, and the little mermaid almost cried aloud for joy.
“Oh, beautiful light,” she said, “thank you for coming. Show me what to do; I will follow your guidance,” and a gleaming streak across the water shone out as if inviting her to follow it.
Swiftly the mermaid swam in the direction of the land, full in the glow of the light; and a girl—an earth-maiden—standing at her window in the summer night thought that she saw a vision, and scarce knew if she were awake or dreaming.
“It is late,” she thought. “I must get to sleep or I shall be growing too fanciful.”