Page:The Strand Magazine (Volume 4).djvu/656

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
662
THE STRAND MAGAZINE.

"Poor fellow," said the fairy, "your soul is still sleeping; but whatever you may be, I will not be ungrateful. If it had not been for you I should have fallen into the hands of a cruel genie, my bitter enemy; if it had not been for you I should have become a snake for a hundred years; it is to you I owe one hundred years of youth and beauty. In future, Zerbin, all your wishes shall be gratified, and you shall have reason to bless the water fairy."

She then made three circles in the air with her wand, and entered the pool with a step so light that the surface was not even ruffled. The reeds bowed their heads at the approach of their Queen, and the water-lilies opened their loveliest buds; the trees and even the wind seemed to participate in the joy of the fairy. She raised her wand for the last time, and the sparkling waters parted to receive their young Sovereign, who slowly sank, illuminating the depths like a golden shaft of light. Then the surface grew dim and shadowy, and silence reigned once more.

The sun had reached its height when the wood-cutter awoke from his slumbers. He quietly resumed his task of cutting down the tree he had been working at in the morning. The hatchet struck the wood with great force, until the blows rang again and the perspiration ran down Zerbin's face, but all his efforts were in vain.

"Ha!" he said, looking at the blunted edge of his hatchet, "what a pity no instrument has been invented that can cut wood like butter. I wish I had one like that."

He drew back two steps, and swinging his hatchet above his head, he let it fall with such force that he lost his balance, and fell forward on his face with outstretched arms.

"By Bacchus!" he exclaimed, "my aim was crooked."

But Zerbin was soon reassured, for at the same instant the tree fell, and so close to him that he narrowly escaped being crushed.

"What a fine blow!" he cried. "That is a wonderful help. How beautifully it is cut. After all, there is not another woodcutter to equal myself."

Upon which he gathered together the branches that he had cut in the morning, and taking a cord he had fastened round his waist, he sat astride upon the bundle to draw the ends closer together.

"What a pity it is," he said, "that fagots have not four legs like horses. I should prance into Salerno like a handsome cavalier who rides at his leisure. How delightful that would be."

At the same moment the fagot rose and began to trot at a good pace. Without showing the least astonishment, our worthy Zerbin let himself be carried along by this new steed, pitying as he went those wretched creatures who had to walk for lack of a fagot.


"The fagot began to trot."

II.

In the time of which we speak there existed in the centre of Salerno a large square, on which stood the King's palace. As everyone is aware, this monarch was the famous King Honeybee.

Every afternoon the King's daughter Aleli might have been seen seated pensively upon the balcony. In vain her attendants endeavoured to divert her by their songs, their tales, or their flatteries; Aleli was absorbed in her own thoughts. For three years the King had been trying to wed her to some of the barons of the neighbourhood, but Princess Aleli refused all suitors. Upon the afternoon of which we speak, Aleli, yet more dreamy than usual, was startled by the sudden apparition of Zerbin riding his fagot