Part 33

'Has anything been done?' he asked.

'Oh yes,' said the blacksmith. 'All the doctors have seen her, but they can't do anything. And the King has advertised in the usual way, that any one who can cure her may marry her. But it's no good. King's sons aren't what they used to be. A silly lot they are nowadays, all taken up with football and cricket and golf.'

'Humph,' said Sep, 'thank you. Which is the way to the palace?'

The blacksmith pointed, and then burst into tears again. Sep rode on.

When he got to the palace he asked to see the King. Every one there was crying too, from the footman who opened the door to the King, who was sitting upon his golden throne and looking at his fine collection of butterflies through floods of tears.

'Oh dear me yes, young man,' said the King, 'you may see her and welcome, but it's no good.'

'We can but try,' said Sep. So he was taken to the room where the Princess sat huddled up on her silver throne among the white velvet cushions with her crown all on one side, crying out of her poor blind eyes, so that the tears ran down over her green gown with the red roses on it.

And directly he saw her he knew that she was the only girl, Princess as she was, with a crown and a throne, who could ever be his heart's lady. He went up to her and kneeled at her side and took her hand and kissed it. The Princess started. She could not see or hear him, but at the touch of his hand and his lips she knew that he was her heart's lord, and she threw her arms round his neck, and cried more than ever.

He held her in his arms and stroked her hair till she stopped crying, and then he called for bread and milk. This was brought in a silver basin, and he fed her with it as you feed a little child.

The news ran through the city, 'The Princess has eaten,' and all the bells were set ringing. Sep said good-night to his Princess and went to bed in the best bedroom of the palace. Early in the grey morning he got up and leaned out of the open window and called to his old friend the wind.

And the wind came bustling in and clapped him on the back, crying, 'Well, my boy, and what can I do for you? Eh?'

Sep told him all about the Princess.

'Well,' said the wind, 'you've not done so badly. At any rate you've got her love. And you couldn't have got that with anybody's help but your own. Now, of course, the thing to do is to find the wicked Magician.'

'Of course,' said Sep.

'Well--I travel a good deal--I'll keep my eyes open, and let you know if I hear anything.'

Sep spent the day holding the Princess's hand, and feeding her at meal times; and that night the wind rattled his window and said, 'Let me in.'

It came in very noisily, and said, 'Well, I've found your Magician, he's in the forest pretending to be a mole.'

'How can I find him?' said Sep.

'Haven't you any friends in the forest?' asked the wind.

Then Sep remembered his friends the squirrels, and he mounted his horse and rode away to the chestnut-tree where they lived. They were charmed to see him grown so tall and strong and handsome, and when he had told them his story they said at once--

'Oh yes! delighted to be of any service to you.' And they called to all their little brothers and cousins, and uncles and nephews to search the forest for a mole that wasn't really a mole, and quite soon they found him, and hustled and shoved him along till he was face to face with Sep, in a green glade. The glade was green, but all the bushes and trees around were red-brown with squirrel fur, and shining bright with squirrel eyes.

Then Sep said, 'Give the Princess back her eyes and her hearing and her voice.'

But the mole would not.

'Give the Princess back her eyes and her hearing and her voice,' said Sep again. But the mole only gnashed his wicked teeth and snarled.

And then in a minute the squirrels fell on the mole and killed it, and Sep thanked them and rode back to the palace, for, of course, he knew that when a magician is killed, all his magic unworks itself instantly.

But when he got to his Princess she was still as deaf as a post and as dumb as a stone, and she was still crying bitterly with her poor blind eyes, till the tears ran down her grass-green gown with the red roses on it.

'Cheer up, my sweetheart,' he said, though he knew she couldn't hear him, and as he spoke the wind came in at the open window, and spoke very softly, because it was in the presence of the Princess.

'All right,' it whispered, 'the old villain gave us the slip that journey. Got out of the mole-skin in the very nick of time. He's a wild boar now.'