Within the glowing crimson of the stone,
Like to a heart, that, lost in pleasant dreaming,
Keepeth the image of the fair unknown.
A thousand sparks around the gem are streaming,
A softened radiance in the heart is thrown;
From that, the light's indwelling essence darts.
But ah, will this too have the heart of hearts?
As soon as the morning dawned, he took his way in haste to the garden gate.
In the mean while the princess in undressing on the previous evening, had missed the jewel from her necklace. It was a memento from her mother, and moreover a talisman, the possession of which insured to her the liberty of her person, since with it she could never fall into another's power against her will.
This loss surprised more than it frightened her. She remembered that she had it the day before when riding, and was quite certain that it was lost, either in the house of the old man, or on the way back through the woods. She still remembered the exact road she had taken, and concluded to go in search of it as soon as the day should break. This idea caused her so much joy, that it seemed as if she was not at all sorry for her loss, in the good pretence it gave to take the same road once more. At daybreak she passed through the garden to the forest; as she walked with unwonted speed, it was natural that her bosom should feel oppressed, and her heart beat faster than usual. The sun was beginning to gild the tops of the old trees, which moved with a gentle whispering, as if they would waken each other from their drowsy night-faces, in order to greet the sun together; when the princess, startled by a rustling at some distance, looked down the road, and saw the young man hastening towards her. He at the same time observed her.