“You foolish boy!” and she tore the stick from his hand. “Why, of course it is done! Is ‘Love’ not there as plainly as the other words? Come, we must make haste or we shall be too late.”
As the two reached the door of the hall Shreve of the Fields was standing before the royal dais, his proud lovely head thrown back and one graceful arm stretched forth toward the king. On the tip of his finger there perched a beautiful raven, all glossy black streaked with purple, and as quiet as if it were still in the forest. As these two of the woods stood there in their perfect, unaffected beauty everything else about the gay court seemed curiously dwarfed and cheapened.
“O King,” he said, in his sweet, thrilling voice, “here is a gift for you!”
As the raven flew from his hand to the king the courtiers crowded around the radiant youth; and Mother Jorgan, in the doorway outside, whispered to Bebelle: “Child, he has said nothing of you. If you still wish to do this dreadful thing, you must enter unannounced.”
And so, with his scepter held closely in one arm, the child bravely walked into the gay throng.
As he neared the throne the courtiers drew back on either side; and standing before the royal dais, Bebelle said simply, “My King, I have made you a new scepter for a Christmas gift.”
All about the throne lay precious and costly gifts; gold and tapestries, silver and precious stones. On the arm of the king’s chair perched the beautiful raven, and in the queen’s hand was a necklace of diamonds, and rare aquamarines. Before them stood a child, strange and grotesque, holding in his hand a rough piece of fire-wood.
“I have made you a new scepter,” he had said.
“Child,” said the king, and his voice was not unkind, “this is not the time for you to appear before us.” And he motioned a page to lead Bebelle from the room.
There was a painful silence as the child crept slowly from the bright hall, one hand still clasping the rejected gift. The queen signed for the fiddlers to begin their playing. The princess Faunia, who was standing with the noble prince under the balcony, remarked that such things were enough to spoil one’s Christmas. The prince comforted her, and said if he had his will, nothing should ever happen to mar a single moment of her entire life. The princess was even happier than before. The queen told the king, who looked a little worried, that such things naturally happen in such great households, and that, with the serving of the royal banquet, things would be restored to their former gaiety. This last suggestion comforted the king mightily; and, indeed, before the page had even announced the banquet everything was as gay and merry as it had been an hour before.