Part 4

Graciosa was led into the palace, and everything she saw about her was so beautiful and wonderful that she hardly knew how to express her admiration. Wherever they went they were accompanied by soft music; doors opened before them as they approached, and in one apartment a feast was set forth for them with every sort of delicious food that can be imagined. It was served to them without hands, and nowhere did Graciosa see any one but themselves. This gave the Princess some anxiety.

“After all,” thought she to herself, “all this is magic and may at any moment vanish suddenly, even as it appeared, and I may find myself again in the forest, helpless and alone.” She therefore, as soon as she found an opportunity, asked the Fairy Finetta whether it would not be possible to send her back to her father’s palace again.

The fairy seemed both surprised and displeased at this question. “Nothing would be easier,” she replied, “but have you so soon wearied of our company that you should wish to leave us? You know how Percinet adores you. He will be miserable if he finds he is unable to make you happy even for a few short hours.”

Graciosa murmured something about her father.

“Your father is well and in good spirits,” replied the fairy; “he has not even missed you.”

The Princess could now no longer urge to be sent home. She agreed to remain in the castle for a while, at least. Percinet showed the greatest joy when he heard this. “Ah, Graciosa,” said he, “you cannot but know that I am miserable without you, and if you would accept my love and devotion, I would be the happiest creature in the world.”

The Princess blushed, but made no answer and Percinet dared not press her further.

The next few days passed like a dream for Graciosa. Every day she found herself provided with clothes and jewels more beautiful than any she had ever imagined. Every day invisible hands served her with food that was strange to her, yet very delicious. Often she walked in the gardens or amused herself by feeding the fish in the fountains. Percinet was almost constantly with her and found a thousand ways in which to please her and show his devotion, and the Fairy Finetta was always gracious and charming. But one day, when Percinet had left her for a short time, Graciosa began to think of her father, and she was seized with such a great desire to see him that she grew very sad, and could not forbear from weeping.

When Percinet returned and saw her tears, he at once asked her, with the greatest concern, what was troubling her.

“I am sad because I am thinking of my father,” replied Graciosa. “Oh, Percinet! Is it not possible for me to see him? I have been parted from him for so long.”

Percinet became very thoughtful, but presently he said, “It is indeed quite possible for you to see him and that without even leaving the palace, but I fear harm may come of it. However, as you know, I can refuse you nothing, so come with me.”

Percinet then led Graciosa to a high tower from which they could see a great stretch of country in every direction. He bade her place her right foot on his left foot, and her little finger on his thumb, and look in the direction he pointed out to her.

As soon as Graciosa had done this, she no longer saw Percinet or the tower, or anything around her. It seemed to her that she was back again in her father’s palace, in the chamber where the King sometimes went to be alone. She saw him there and in his hand he held a little picture of herself painted when she was a child and he was weeping and grieving over it so bitterly that Graciosa’s heart was wrung with pity for him. She wished to speak to him and throw her arms about his neck, but no sooner did she step forward toward him than she found herself back again on the tower with Percinet, and the vision of her father was gone.

Graciosa turned to the Prince, her face bathed with tears. “Dearest Percinet, if you love me, let me return to my father,” she cried. “He is grieving for me, and I cannot bear the thought of his sorrow.”

Percinet looked at her reproachfully. “And is my sorrow nothing to you?” he asked her. “You know how it would grieve me to the heart to lose you. The King was willing to leave you to the cruelty of Grognon, and I have treated you always with the tenderest respect, and yet you would gladly leave me to return to him.”

Graciosa could make no answer to this, and after a moment Percinet added with a sigh, “So be it.”

He then led her to the fairy and told her of Graciosa’s wish to leave them.

Finetta looked at her with a severe expression. “I fear Graciosa, that you are very ungrateful,” said she. “But if you wish to leave us, we will not keep you. Only, when you find yourself again in the power of the Queen, remember that it is of your own choice you are there.”

So saying, the fairy waved her hand, and at once the castle and all in it vanished away like mist. Graciosa found herself again in her father’s palace. With eager steps she hastened to the chamber where she had seen him sitting. He was still there, and weeping. She ran to him and threw her arms about him.

“Dearest father, do not grieve any longer,” she cried. “Your Graciosa has returned to you, loving you better than ever.”

The King was filled with joy at the sight of his daughter and embraced her and caressed her with so much tenderness that Graciosa hoped her sorrows were now ended, and that nothing but happiness lay before her.

But she had forgotten Grognon. The stepmother was furious when she heard that the Princess had returned to the castle. “Will I never be able to rid myself of this wretched girl!” she cried. “But wait a bit! I will make her so miserable that she will be glad enough to leave the palace herself, of her own will and desire.”

She then hastened away to the King, who was again alone, as Graciosa had gone to her chamber.

“I hear that Graciosa has returned!” cried Grognon. “The girl thinks she can come and go at pleasure and cares nothing for any anxiety or sorrow she may cause us. But leave her to me, and I will teach her a lesson in obedience that may save us much trouble in the future.”

The King was troubled at hearing this. He could not bear the thought of again putting the Princess in the power of her stepmother, and yet he knew Grognon’s furious temper and was afraid of awakening it. In the end, however, he agreed to what the Queen asked and promised that she should do as she wished with Graciosa.

Grognon had learned a lesson from the return of the Princess, and she now determined to call to her aid a fairy who was a friend of hers and was as wicked as herself. “This girl,” thought she, “is surely protected by some magic, and if I would succeed against her, I must call upon some power that is greater than my own.”

The fairy came in haste at the Queen’s summons, and when she found what was required of her, her little eyes sparkled with malice.

“This is indeed a matter to my own taste,” said she. “I will tell you how to set a task for the Princess that she cannot possibly accomplish. Then, when she fails, you can say she is disobedient and obstinate, and this will give you an excuse for breaking every bone in her body.”

The advice delighted Grognon. “Quick!” said she. “Tell me what I am to do, for I can hardly wait to rid myself of this creature.”

The fairy then drew from an enormous pocket in her gown a great mass of tangled threads of silk. They were of all colors of the rainbow, and each thread was so twisted in with the others that there seemed neither beginning nor end to it and yet was so fine that one could scarcely breathe upon it without breaking it.

“Take this silk to Graciosa,” said the fairy, “and tell her that before to-morrow she must separate the different colors from each other and wind them into skeins, each color to itself, and that not a single thread of them must be broken. This she will find it impossible to do, and when you visit her to-morrow and find that she has failed, it will give you an excuse to punish her as you see fit.”

This advice delighted the Queen. She took the skeins and hastened away to the place where she had had Graciosa imprisoned. The Princess was weeping and looked so beautiful in her tears that any heart less hard than Grognon’s would have pitied her. But her beauty only increased the Queen’s fury against her.

“Come, lazybones!” cried the Queen. “Here is something to give work to your idle fingers. Take these silks and separate them from each other, winding each color into a skein by itself. See that not a thread of it is broken, and do you have the task done before to-morrow, or else you shall suffer for it.”

“Alas, Madam!” cried the poor Princess. “You know that this is an impossible thing to do.”

“That is your concern,” cried Grognon harshly. “But this I will tell you; if you are too lazy and obstinate to do as I bid you, it is only right and proper that you should be punished.”

So saying, she gave Graciosa a push so violent that it almost threw her upon the floor and went on out, locking the door behind her.

Left alone, Graciosa took up the mass of silk and with careful fingers began to try to separate the strands, but hardly could she touch them before they broke, and she soon found the task was indeed impossible.

In despair she threw aside the silks and burst into tears.

“Alas! Alas! My sorrows are well deserved,” wept the poor Princess. “Had I but listened to Percinet and to the fairy’s warnings, I might even now be safe and happy in her palace with Percinet for my companion.”

Hardly had she spoken thus when the Prince himself stood before her.

“Ah, Graciosa,” said he, “are you perhaps beginning to learn at last the worth of my affection? You have indeed brought this sorrow on yourself, but I love you too dearly to be willing to see you suffer.”

He then struck the silk three times with a silver wand he carried. Immediately the tangles and knots were smoothed away, the different colors separated themselves one from another, and broken ends rejoined. In less time than it takes to tell, the task was done, and the different silks lay smoothly wound and side by side upon the table.

Graciosa hardly knew how to thank Percinet.

“Do not thank me,” said the Prince gravely. “I wish no thanks from you. You know how dearly I love you, and I, on my part, am sure that now you also love me. Come away with me from all these fears and sufferings and live with me in the palace my mother is eager to provide for us.”

But Graciosa could not yet make up her mind to marry one who was half a fairy.

“Ah, Percinet, forgive me!” she cried. “I know that you love me, but you are a fairy and I am a mortal, and I fear your love for me may not be lasting. Let us wait and see whether the Queen’s heart may not soften toward me. Perhaps she has only set me this task as a trial of my patience and does not really intend evil to me.”

“In other words, you trust to her cruelty rather than to my tenderness,” cried the Prince with some anger. “So be it. But at least I have saved you from a beating.”

Thus saying, he disappeared, and the Princess was left alone.

Early the next morning Grognon hastened to Graciosa’s prison. Already she was planning what was the most cruel punishment she could give the Princess, for she had no other thought but that Graciosa would have found the task impossible.

What was her amazement to see, when she opened the door, that all the silks had been separated and wound into skeins, and that they lay upon the table so beautifully arranged that to see them was like looking upon a rainbow.

Graciosa met her with a smile. “Madam, I have done your bidding,” said she, “and the silks are ready for you, as you can see.”

Grognon could think of no reply to make. She snatched up the silks and left the room, casting upon Graciosa a look so furious and so malignant that the poor girl trembled.

No sooner had Grognon reached her own chamber than she sent for the wicked fairy and at once began to reproach her for setting such an easy task for the Princess.

The fairy frowned and shook her head. “I do not understand it,” she said. “Some magic power must be helping Graciosa, for never could mortal fingers have separated the skeins after I had tangled them. However, I will set her another task even harder than the first, and which I am very sure will put her in your power.”

The fairy then caused a great tub to appear, and it was full of the feathers of hundreds and hundreds of different birds.

“Give her these feathers to separate,” said the fairy. “Tell her that the feathers of each kind of bird must be put by themselves, and all must be separated by the earliest break of day to-morrow. She will certainly find it impossible to do this task, and you will then have her in your power.”

At this advice all of Grognon’s anger disappeared and she thanked the fairy smilingly. She called for two of her attendants and bade them carry the feathers to the room where Graciosa was kept prisoner, and she herself also went there.

The poor Princess was terrified when she saw Grognon appear once more, for she knew it could only mean some new trouble for her.

The tub was set upon the floor, and Grognon motioned Graciosa to it. “Idle one,” she cried, “here is something that will keep you busy for a few hours at least. Your task is to separate these feathers, putting the ones that belong to each kind of bird by themselves, and see that they are all separated by morning, or woe betide you.”

She then left the room, taking the attendants with her and locking and double-locking the door behind her.

As soon as Graciosa examined the tub of feathers, she knew the task to be hopeless, but nevertheless she sat down and made some attempt to separate the feathers; but she did not even know which ones belonged together, and there were, besides, thousands and thousands of them.

In despair she threw them back again into the tub, and burst into tears. “What will become of me?” she sobbed. “Percinet I have offended so deeply that I dare not call upon him for help, and he is the only one who can aid me. Ah, how ungrateful I have been! I would that that noble Prince were here that I might ask for his pardon before the Queen destroys me.”

“I _am_ here, beautiful Graciosa! And not only ready but eager to help you. Do not fear. This task the Queen has set you is not as impossible as you seem to think it.”

It was Percinet who spoke. He had appeared before her, handsome and graceful as ever. He now approached the tub of feathers and touched it with the silver wand which he carried.

No sooner had he done this than the feathers arose in a many-colored cloud, and each kind, separating itself from the others, gathered in a little heap by itself.

Graciosa hardly knew how to thank the Prince.

“I desire no gratitude, but love only,” exclaimed Percinet. “Has not this taught you that as long as you are in the Queen’s power there is no safety for you? Oh, Graciosa, delay no longer. Come with me to my mother, and let us tell her you have consented to our marriage.”

But Graciosa could not yet make up her mind to trust him. “Dear Percinet,” she said, weeping, “do not think me ungrateful, but how can I, a mortal maiden, ever mate with one who is half a fairy? No, no. We could never be happy. Be to me a friend, as I will be to you, but do not ask me to marry you.”

Percinet was deeply offended; he could not help showing his resentment.

“Farewell, proud Princess,” he said to her. “You say you are not ungrateful, and yet with every word you show your lack of trust in me. Heaven send that you may not suffer for the scorn you show me.”

So saying, Percinet again disappeared, leaving the Princess alone and weeping.

The next day, at earliest dawn, Grognon hastened to Graciosa’s prison, and nothing could be greater than was her wonder and fury when she found the feathers separated and each kind lying neatly by itself.

Her rage was so great that she could not forbear from shaking Graciosa till the poor Princess’s teeth rattled in her head, giving, as an excuse, that the feathers were not laid evenly.

She then went away in a rage to her own room, and calling the fairy to her, she scolded her at such a rate that her voice could be heard all over the castle.

The fairy was confounded when she found this second task had also been accomplished, and, it seemed, as easily and quickly as the first.

“It is some magic,” she repeated. “Some one is helping her who is as powerful as I--perhaps even more so. But this is not the end of the matter. You shall still have a chance to punish the Princess at your pleasure. I have here a box. Give it to Graciosa, and bid her carry it to your castle, and leave it in a certain cabinet in the hall, but not by any means to open it on the way. Her curiosity will prove too much for her, she will think it no harm to peep into the box after she is out of sight and if she once opens it, she will find it impossible to close the lid on its contents and you can then punish her for her disobedience.”

The fairy at once disappeared, and Grognon sent for the Princess to come before her.

Graciosa obeyed the summons, wondering what new sorrow was to come upon her, but to her surprise the Queen met her with a smiling face. “My dear Graciosa,” said she, “I have here a box which I wish to send to my palace, and what is within it is so precious and wonderful that I do not dare to trust it to any one but you. It is not locked, and there is no key to it, but do not open it on your way, whatever you do. Place it upon the central cabinet in the main hall, and then return to me in haste, that you may assure me that you have carried it there in safety.”

Graciosa at once hastened to her room for a cloak, which she threw about her. She took the box that the Queen handed to her, and holding it in such a way that the folds of the cloak hid it, she set out upon her journey.

The Queen looked after her with an evil smile.

“This time she shall not escape me,” she muttered. “Never will she be able to withstand her wish to see what it is that the box holds.”

Graciosa, indeed, was very curious. As she hastened along, clasping the box to her, she wondered more and more what could possibly be in it that was so precious that the Queen dared not trust it to any one but herself. The way was long, and the Princess was unused to walking, and so at last when she came to a green meadow with a brook flowing through it, she sat down to rest. As she sat there, she became so tormented by curiosity as to what was in the box, that at last she determined to raise the lid very carefully just a hair’s breadth, and take one look within.

But scarcely had her fingers touched the lid when it flew open in her hands, and out from the box there streamed a host of little people. There were lords and ladies in fine clothes, and workmen, who at once set about putting up silken tents as a shelter from the sun. There were tiny coaches of gold, drawn by horses even smaller, and driven by coachmen with powdered wigs, and there were little footmen sitting beside them. There were cooks, who directed tiny scullions to build up fires and at once set about preparing a grand feast. Tables were spread, and small musicians began to play gay music to which the fine folk danced.

It was all so wonderful and pretty that Graciosa watched them, smiling, and with the greatest delight, quite forgetting that she had disobeyed the strict orders of the Queen, and that she would suffer for it.

Suddenly a cloud came over the sun, and a few drops of rain fell.

This brought Graciosa to herself. Laying down the box, she ran over to the tent where the little lords and ladies had taken shelter, and tried to gather them up so as to return them to the box again. But this they would not have. As soon as they found she intended to catch them, they ran away and hid themselves among the tufts of grasses and back of stones. Soon they had all disappeared. Not one of them was to be seen, though Graciosa looked for them all about.

She was now so frightened that she was like one distracted. She ran about the meadow, calling to the little people to return, and at last, quite worn out with her exertions, she fell upon the ground and burst into tears.

“Ah, Percinet, you will be well revenged,” she sobbed. “Whatever will become of the poor Graciosa, and how shall I ever withstand the rage of the cruel Grognon?”

Suddenly she heard a deep sigh, and looking up, she saw that Percinet was standing beside her. Seeing him there, she could not restrain a cry of joy, but the Prince gazed upon her with a sad and sorrowful look.

“Ah, Graciosa, would you ever remember me,” he asked, “if it were not for the cruel Grognon?”

Graciosa, ashamed, did not dare to raise her eyes to his.

“Cruelly as you have treated me,” said Percinet, “I cannot leave you to suffer.”

With these words he struck three times upon the lid of the box. At once, as though this were a signal, the little people came running out from their hiding places, and, as though each one wished to be the first, they hastened back into the box, pushing and hustling each other in their hurry. The workmen hastily folded the tents, the cook and his scullions gathered up their cooking utensils, the coachmen cracked their whips and shouted to their horses. Back into the box they crowded, the box closed of itself, and the meadow lay green and deserted in the sunlight.

Graciosa would have thanked Percinet, but when she turned to speak to him, he was gone.

“Alas, he is so angry I fear he no longer loves me,” sighed Graciosa, “while I have at last learned both to love and trust him. If he had but asked me again to return with him to the fairy palace, how gladly I would have agreed!”

Sadly the Princess again set out for Grognon’s castle, and in due time arrived there without having had any more adventures, and placed the box in the cabinet in the main hall as the Queen had directed.

When Grognon found that again Graciosa had accomplished her task, and so escaped punishment, her rage was so great that she was like one who has suddenly gone crazy. She sent for the fairy, and as soon as she appeared, the Queen flew at her with teeth and nails.

“Miserable creature!” she shrieked. “You have deceived me. Three times you have promised to put Graciosa in my power. And what has happened? Every time she has accomplished the tasks and met me smiling. Begone, or I will tear you limb from limb.”

Powerful as the fairy was, she was frightened by the fierceness of Grognon. She made haste to take herself out of the way and fled back to her castle, glad to have escaped with her life.

Grognon now made up her mind to take matters again into her own hands. She caused a deep pit to be dug in the garden, too deep for any one who fell into it to have any chance of escaping. Over this a great stone was rolled, so that the mouth of the pit was hidden.

The Queen then sent for Graciosa to come and walk with her in the garden. She also took several attendants with her.

Though Grognon met Graciosa with a smile and seemed to have forgotten all her rage against her, the Princess was very uneasy. She feared the Queen’s plots and felt sure that some new evil was being planned against her, but she did not know from what direction the danger would come.

As they walked along, the Queen so arranged it that presently they came to the place where the great stone was lying. Grognon pointed it out to Graciosa. “I am told,” said she, “that a great treasure lies hidden under that stone. We will roll it away and see whether those who told me of it have spoken the truth.”

She then bade her attendants push the stone aside, and Graciosa, who was very good-natured, put her hands against the stone, and pushed, also.