II.   THE ROSE-PRINCESS IS LOST.

Of course there was great joy when it came to be known that Queen Flora was the mother of a lovely Princess, and all the bells in the city were set ringing, while the poor people, for once, had as much food as they could eat. The ladies of the Queen admired the beautiful baby very much indeed, and there was no doubt the little Princess was really a charming child. By the advice of the King, however, Queen Flora told nobody about the transformation which took place at sundown, and always put the Princess to bed herself every night. Then, as the sunlight died out of the western skies, the pretty baby would change into a delicate white rosebud, and rested on a velvet cushion beside the Queen’s bed every night. At the first golden ray of the sun the bud changed to a beautiful Princess once more, and no one ever knew that she was only a flower transformed for the day into a human being.

As the years rolled on, the Rose-Princess grew into a tall, slender girl, with golden hair, blue eyes, and the most beautiful complexion, white and pink, flushed like a delicate rose. When she walked she swayed like a graceful lily, and always dressed in a green gown with a girdle of white roses, which were her favourite flowers.

She also wore a silver circlet on her golden hair, upon which were fastened diamond roses and leaves made out of bright green emeralds, which made her look so beautiful that all who beheld her fell in love on the spot. Many princes heard of her beauty and wanted to marry her, but she did not care for any of her suitors, which pleased Queen Flora very much, for she was anxious her Princess should marry the great-grandson of the exiled King, and cease to change into a rosebud.

The King made a proclamation that if the descendant of the old dynasty came to the palace, he would marry his daughter and be heir to the throne; but no one ever came forward to claim the hand of the Princess, which showed that the Faery Rosina spoke truly when she said the exiled Prince knew nothing about his royal blood.

The Princess was christened Rose by the Queen, because she really was the offspring of the white rose tree, but her complexion was so delicate, and her love for roses so great, that every one called her the Rose-Princess instead of the Princess Rose.

Now, on the seventeenth birthday of the Rose-Princess, there was a mighty revolution in the city of Buss, and a great multitude of men and women marched to the palace in order to dethrone the King. He was not a bad King as kings go, but, not knowing how to govern, he did nothing but amuse himself with balls and fêtes, letting his courtiers govern as they pleased. As the courtiers were all very greedy, and wanted money, they put such heavy taxes on the people, that at last the King’s subjects could stand it no longer, and while a ball was taking place in the great hall of the palace, in honour of the Rose-Princess’s birthday, the doors were burst open, and the mob rushed in. The ball was being given in the day-time, so that the Rose-Princess could attend, because, of course, she could not dance when changed into a flower. The music was sounding most beautifully, the King and Queen sat on their thrones with golden crowns, and the Rose-Princess was dancing gaily, when the noisy crowd of ragged men and women rushed into the beautiful palace.

Oh, it was really a terrible scene! All the gaily dressed lords and ladies were seized by the dirty hands of the people, and stripped of their beautiful jewels. The great mirrors were all smashed, the lovely blue hangings torn down and trampled on by the mob, the gorgeous gardens were all destroyed, and these rioters, breaking into the King’s wine-cellars, began to drink the fine wine of which he was so proud.

All the women of the city collected a lot of velvet couches, gorgeous dresses, and rich curtains into a heap in the garden, and, setting fire to it, danced about in a ring, singing loudly—

“High to low

Down must go;

Low to high

Now must fly.

All the lords and ladies dead,

Let us eat their costly bread,

While beneath our feet we tread

Every proud and haughty head.”

You may be sure the King and Queen did not wait to face these terrible people, but, disguising themselves in mean garments, fled from the palace, leaving all their beautiful things to be destroyed by the mob, who chose a President, and proclaimed a Republic, then began to kill all the lords and ladies they could find. The whole nation seemed to go mad, and there was no law or order anywhere, but every one did exactly as they pleased, so that the entire kingdom was brought to the verge of ruin.

And the Rose-Princess?—ah, poor lady! she also fled in dismay from the terrible people, and sought refuge in her own room. It was still early in the afternoon, so she could not change into a rose, and thus escape the fury of the mob; and, as her parents had deserted her, she stood trembling in her beautiful chamber, thinking she would be found and torn to pieces. Besides, being ignorant of her nightly transformation, she was afraid to go to bed, lest she should be killed while asleep.

As she stood weeping and wringing her hands in despair, she suddenly saw a tall handsome lady standing before her, looking at her kindly. This was the Faery Rosina, who had come to save the Rose-Princess from the people, as it was not her fault that they had rebelled against the King.

“Do not weep, Rose-Princess,” she said in a kind tone; “though things seem to be going wrong just now, they will all come right.”

“But my dear parents!” cried the Rose-Princess, weeping.

“They have left the palace,” said the faery in a severe tone, “and will now endure hardship, to punish them for the way in which they have neglected their office; but when they have learnt a lesson, they will come back again.”

“But what will become of me?” cried the Rose-Princess, as the noise of the mob came nearer and nearer.

“You will be quite safe,” replied the faery; “and the people who are now crying out to kill you, will soon be cheering you on your wedding-day, when you are married.”

“Married to whom?” asked the trembling Princess.

“Ah, that you must find out!” answered the Faery Rosina, as the crowd commenced to batter at the door of the room. “But now I must save you from the people, or they will certainly kill you.”

As she said this, she touched the Princess, who immediately changed into a white rosebud, and lay on the dark green carpet like a snowflake. Then the Faery Rosina vanished, and the door was burst open, as the mob rushed in.

Of course they now saw nothing, and never for a moment dreamt that the white rose lying on the carpet was their beautiful Princess, so they commenced to pull down all the costly things in the room, and would have trampled the rosebud under their feet, only a young student picked it up.

He was a handsome fellow of twenty, this young student, with a slender figure and a dark, splendid-looking face. His name was Ardram, and he was one of the leaders of the revolt, although he did not wish the people to destroy everything as they were doing. Ardram was a very learned youth, and the son of a poor sick woman, of whom he was very fond. He had seen all the misery of the poor people who were in want of bread, and the sinful luxury of the court, so thought it but right that a change should be made. Therefore he led the people to the palace, to ask justice of the King, but they had become too strong for him, and he was already regretting that he had not let them stay where they were. However, it was too late now for regrets, but he determined not to take any part in the follies of the mob, so walked home to his own little room in the city, with the white rosebud in his button-hole.

All night long he saw the flames rising from burning dwellings, and heard the shrieks of people being killed, so he felt very sad to think that he was the original cause of it all, though he certainly had no intention of letting such things be done. Then he determined on the morrow to talk to the people, and try and persuade them to stop their plundering and cruelty, but, in the meantime, went to bed and slept for an hour in an uneasy manner.

He forgot all about the white rosebud, which had fallen on the floor, as he flung himself, dressed as he was, on his bed, but when he awoke in the morning, he was much surprised to find seated beside him a beautiful woman, who was weeping bitterly.

“Who are you?” asked Ardram, springing to his feet; “and how did you come here?”

“I am the Rose-Princess,” she replied sadly; “but I do not know how I came here. You will let me stay, will you not? I am so afraid of those terrible people who broke into the palace.”

“Oh, I won’t let them harm you, Princess,” said Ardram, who had fallen in love with her beautiful face; “but you must not leave this room, or else I cannot protect you.”

“I’ll stay here,” said the Rose-Princess obediently; “but will you please give me something to eat?—I feel rather hungry.”

So Ardram brought out some bread and wine, off which the Princess made a hearty meal, talking to her host all the time she was eating.

“I saw you in the palace yesterday,” she said, looking straight at Ardram.

“Yes,” replied the student, blushing; “I was with the people. We only wanted justice, and I did not think they would go on like they did. The people were too strong for me, so I left them.”

“And will you put my father on the throne again?” asked the Rose-Princess eagerly.

“I’m afraid that will be impossible, Princess,” said Ardram quietly, “unless he promises to govern better. You see, many years ago, a king was deposed for governing badly, and your grandfather was put on the throne—now they’ll offer the crown to some one else.”

“Perhaps they’ll offer it to you?” suggested the Rose-Princess.

“I don’t think so,” said Ardram, laughing, as he arose to his feet; “but if I did become king, I would take care that all my subjects were well off. Now I’ll go out, Princess, and you stay here.”

“Very well,” answered the Rose-Princess; “and do look for my parents.”

“I will—though I daresay they’ve left the city,” said Ardram, and he went away more in love with the Princess than ever.

Meanwhile the Rose-Princess was left alone, and thought how noble and brave Ardram was.

“If he was only the Prince I was to marry!” she sighed; “but then the faery said everything would come right, so, perhaps, he is to be my husband after all.”

She waited all through the long day for the return of Ardram, but he did not return till sundown, and just as his hand was on the door, the Princess changed into a white rosebud, so, when he entered, he found the room empty.

“Princess, Princess, where are you?” he called out in alarm; but of course no Princess answered him, and Ardram asked every one in the house if they had seen a beautiful lady go out, but no one had done so.

“I’ll go and see my mother,” said Ardram in perplexity, for his mother was a very wise woman, although at present she was lying on a bed of sickness. As soon as Ardram made up his mind to ask his mother’s advice, he put on his cap to go, when he spied the white rosebud on the floor.

“Hullo!” he cried, picking it up; “this is the rose I found in the palace yesterday—my mother is fond of flowers, so I’ll take it to her;” and he went away.

The streets were quite full of people, all in a great state of excitement, for the King, Queen, and Princess had vanished, and, as all the ministers were beheaded, there was no one to rule, so the whole kingdom was in a dreadful state.

Ardram reached his mother’s house, and found her in bed, very ill, but when she saw him she was much delighted.

“How are things going?” she asked, after he had kissed her.

“Very badly,” replied Ardram; “no one is able to rule, and I’m afraid we will have a civil war.”

“Oh no, we won’t,” said his mother quickly. “If the people won’t have their present King, perhaps the exiled Prince of the old royal family will be found.”

“I’m afraid not,” replied her son, smiling; “but if he is, I hope he’ll rule wisely.”

“I hope so too,” said his mother pointedly. “Who gave you that beautiful rose, Ardram?”

“I picked it up in the palace, mother,” he answered, and, taking it out of his button-hole, he gave it to her to smell. Then he told her all about the beautiful Princess, and his mother was very much astonished that the poor lady had left the safe shelter of his room, and perhaps been torn to pieces by the angry people in the street.

At last Ardram went away, leaving the rosebud with his mother, who laid it on her pillow and went to sleep. Next morning, when the beams of the sun were shining into her chamber, she awoke, and found the Rose-Princess sleeping beside her.

“Are you not the Rose-Princess?” she asked, for of course she recognised the King’s daughter at once by her crown.

“Yes,” answered the Rose-Princess quickly; “but how did I get here? The last thing I remember before I went to sleep, was standing in Ardram’s room.”

“You must have walked here in your sleep, then,” said the sick woman, looking at her, “because he has been searching for you everywhere.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” said the Rose-Princess, rising. “I would not like him to think I’d run away, because I am so fond of him.”

“Are you fond enough of him to marry him?” asked the mother sadly.

“Yes, I am,” answered the Princess, blushing; “but I’m afraid he would not marry me. Besides, you know, I am to marry the exiled Prince of the old royal family, as soon as he is found.”

“He is found,” said the sick woman quietly. “Ardram is my son, and the great-grandson of the King who was driven from the throne, so, if you marry him, he will be able to regain his throne again.”

“And my father and mother?” asked the Princess in a faltering voice.

“I’m afraid they’re not fit to reign, if all I have heard is true,” said the mother in a melancholy tone; “and if you and my son, Prince Ardram, ascend the throne, I hope you will govern more wisely. Now, to prove the truth of what I say, pull out that wooden box from under my bed.”

The Rose-Princess did as she was told, and, on lifting up the lid, saw a most beautiful crown, all over diamonds, and rubies, and great blue sapphires, sparkling like the stars.

“That is the old royal crown,” said the sick woman, as the Princess put it on her head, “and Ardram will be crowned with it.”

“But if your son is the Prince, why did you not send him to the palace to marry me?” asked the Rose-Princess, who looked truly royal, as she stood in the room with the great crown on her golden head.

“Because I wanted him to see the misery of the people, before ruling over them,” said the mother quickly. “Now he knows what poor people endure, he will be a wise king, and govern well. Now, I will sleep until my son comes back, then we will see about getting you married.”

So she turned her face away, in order to sleep, and the Princess put away the royal crown, and began to sing to the sick woman in a low, sweet voice. This is what she sang:

“Roses red, in the red, red dawn,

Open your hearts to the sun, I pray;

The dew lies heavy upon the lawn,

Westward rises the golden day.

Roses, droop in the hot noon-tide,

Scatter your petals of red and white,

Far in the depths of your green leaves hide,

Till to the eastward the sun takes flight.

Roses white, at the shut of day,

Close your blossoms thro’ sunless hours;

The moon rides high in the sky so grey.

Night brings sleep to the weary flowers.”

Then she also fell asleep, and, as night came on, she was once more changed into the white rosebud, and lay on the pillow beside the grey head of Ardram’s mother. When the doctor, a gruff old man called Mux, came in, the sick woman awoke, and asked at once for the Princess.

“What princess?” asked Mux gruffly. “There’s no princess here. So much the better, as I’d cut her head off if I saw her.”

“But she was here when I went to sleep,” said Ardram’s mother angrily.

“Well, she isn’t here now,” retorted the doctor. “I expect she’s left you to look for the King and Queen. But never mind about her—how do you feel yourself?”

But the sick woman was much agitated over the loss of the Rose-Princess, and when her son entered, she told him how the Princess had been with her all day, and again vanished; whereupon Ardram rushed out into the streets, to see if he could find the poor Rose-Princess again.

When Mux was taking his leave, Ardram’s mother said she had no money to pay him.

“Never mind,” said the doctor gruffly, for he was really very kind-hearted; “I’ll take this rose as payment;” and he picked up the white rose off the pillow.

“It’s very kind of you, doctor,” said the sick woman gratefully. “Take the rose by all means—my son gave it to me. But, doctor, do try and find the Princess; if you do, I will reward you better than you think.”

“Stuff!” said the gruff Mux; and he went away home with the white rosebud fastened in his coat.