💾 Archived View for tilde.pink › ~bencollver › books › fae-fables › pink-topaz.gmi captured on 2022-03-01 at 15:42:31. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
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[Art by Lucy Fitch Perkins]
The Princess had lost her Pink Topaz ring, and the palace was being
turned inside out and upside down as the entire Court rushed hither
and thither searching for it. All sorts of missing articles turned
up, everything that had been lost for years,--everything, that is,
save the Princess's ring. The tumult had reached even the
Astrologer's Tower, that nook where perched the Wisest Man in the
Kingdom, writing the history of King Yolo's family.
Whereas he would have smiled calmly over the loss of anything else
(except his salary), he now, having shut his glasses in his book, was
searching madly for them in order to join in the hunt for the Pink
Topaz.
It was he, the Wisest Man, who understood more fully than any one
else how terrible a calamity had befallen the Princess Lotis in the
loss of her ring. The first chapter of his History was given to a
description of the jewel, with footnotes which took up twice as much
space as the chapter. It had been in the family for twenty-seven
generations, dating from Yolo the Invincible, to whom it had been
given by a great magician. It was a clear, transparent gem, in color
like the petal of a wild rose, or the first flush of dawn in the
eastern sky. Its surface was cut in a curious magic cipher which
even the Wisest Man himself did not understand.
Usually the same tint as the stone, at times these faint tracings
glowed and flashed like lines of fire, whilst the Princess noted the
change half in awe, half in pleasure at the jewel's beauty and the
fair fortune which it foretold. For to the family which owned it,
and especially to the wearer of it, the Pink Topaz brought Wisdom,
Strength, and Happiness, and its occasional flashes of fire denoted
some unusual stroke of good luck. Imagine, then, how great a
misfortune was its loss!
The King had sent out heralds in all directions with promise of great
reward to the lucky finder, and already half the kingdom was
searching for the lost ring. When the reward was increased to a
million of ducats, the other half joined in the hunt. But, although
three days had passed and there seemed to be nowhere else to look,
the Pink Topaz was as hopelessly lost as ever.
Then King Yolo added to the million of ducats a far greater reward,
the the hand of the Princess: and heralds were sent into all the
adjoining kingdoms with his proclamation.
Then all the princes of all those kingdoms donned their armor,
mounted their steeds, and clattered into King Yolo's territory to
search for the missing gem and win hand of the beautiful Princess
Lotis.
When she heard the first ring of horses' hoofs upon the flagstones of
the great courtyard, the Princess peeped through her oriel window for
a glimpse of the newcomer. An iron-gray charger pranced below, his
scarlet trappings flecked with foam, the breath of the wind in his
tangled mane. In the saddle sat Prince Valmir, noblest, bravest,
best of all who rode that day to win King Yolo's daughter.
Dark locks waved across his broad brow; the red of the pomegranate
stained the clear olive of his cheek and dyed the firm, close lips;
silken lashes veiled, but could not dim, the brilliance of eyes
darker than midnight, flashing with high courage, hope, and right
resolve. Suddenly the Prince glanced up at the window, catching the
glint of a golden head, when a cloud of snowy lace, descending, shut
out the vision fair.
All night long belated princes were arriving, but no
hoofbeat reached the ears of Princess Lotis, through whose
dreams the iron-gray charger pranced, bearing a princely
rider with soft, dark eyes.
Now, while the Wisest Man was still hunting for his glasses, to
enable him to join in the search for the ring, he was heard to say
that the Pink Topaz had been lost once before, in the time of Yolo
the Unlucky, thirteen generations back, and was found in the most
distant corner of the kingdom. How it got there, tradition did not
say, but there was an account of the finding in footnote nine hundred
and thirty-seven, in the first chapter of his History. No one took
the trouble to look up the footnote, but the tradition, coupled with
the knowledge that the Princess had been out hunting over a large
stretch of country the day her ring disappeared, left no spot in the
kingdom too unlikely to be searched.
Each day, when the various princes rode out to hunt anew for the
missing jewel, as the gray charger shot across the drawbridge like a
bolt from a crossbow, Prince Valmir looked back at the oriel window.
Sometimes he saw the sun gleam on golden locks; anon he caught the
curve of coral lips, and once a white hand waved to him in greeting.
But when the other princes chanced to look up, they saw only a cloud
of snowy drapery drawn close against the pane.
Morning after morning they rode away, eager and hopeful; evening
after evening they rode back, wearied and dejected, whilst the
Princess Lotis wept behind her oriel window.
As Prince Valmir galloped along the highway early one morning, there
arose suddenly, in front of him, a very old and poor-looking woman.
She was almost under the horse's hoofs, but the Prince reined in the
fiery steed with a strong hand, and said:
"Take heed, good dame! Lookest thou, too, for the Princess's ring,
and on the King's highway?"
"Nay," she answered, "I do but gather mushrooms. Oh, buy them, kind
sir."
"I have no use for them," he began, but the old woman pleaded:
"Ah, buy them, noble sir. 'T would be an act most kind."
Taking from his girdle a broad gold piece, the Prince dropped it into
her basket, saying, with a smile: "This is thine. Wish me success in
my quest."
Giving rein to his steed, he would have passed on, but ere the gray
could take a step, the old woman laid her hand on his bridle.
The horse shivered, then stood still.
"Thou wilt not find the ring," she said. The Prince started.
"But the reward shall be thine," she added.
She seemed to grow taller, and smiled at him with eyes dark as his
own. Her hand dropped from the bridle and the gray plunged forward,
fearfully.
Although Prince Valmir thought of the old woman's words during the
day, he quite forgot them in the exciting news which greeted him on
his return to the palace at dusk.
Day after day the Princess watched at the oriel window for tidings of
her lost jewel. At nightfall, as the princes rode wearily back, she
eagerly scanned each face, but found hope in none. She could not
eat; she could not sleep; she grew so pale that even the Wisest Man,
who was still searching for his glasses, observed it and said the
Princess would better go out in the fresh air. So she wandered
listlessly into the garden, where she had not been since the
disappearance of the Pink Topaz, and sat down by the brookside.
Now the worst of all to her was the haunting sense the Princess had
had from the beginning that she herself had misplaced the ring. But
she had thought and thought, and wept and wept until eyes and head
and heart ached together, all to no purpose. And now she sat by the
brook in absolute despair.
By and by she observed that the goldfish in the stream were behaving
in a very curious manner. They were leaping up out of the water to
look at her.
"It is because I have so long forgotten to feed them," thought she,
remorsefully, but that did not quite explain their mysterious actions.
Every little fish, as it came swimming by, popped up in the same
place, directly under a pink blossoming shrub at her side. The
Princess grew more and more interested.
"They seem to be trying to tell me something," she thought, and as
one little fish made a desperate leap toward the shrub, her eyes
followed its motion. A sunbeam struggled through the dense shade
overhead and fell upon something gleaming among the blossoms. The
Princess's heart gave a great bound, for there, hanging on a little
twig, was--the Pink Topaz!
And then she remembered that the last time she had fed the goldfish,
fearing her ring might drop in the stream, she had hung it on the
little bush, only in bud then, and forgotten all about it.
"Dear little fishes," she cried, as she seized it, "you shall never
be neglected again! If I had remembered you I should long ago have
had my ring."
Here the goldfish gave joyous flops.
"Now--" began the Princess, when she stopped suddenly, for she
remembered that Prince Valmir could not claim the reward she had
hoped would be his. Thoughtfully she drew the precious ring from her
finger and sat looking at it for a long, long time. At last, with a
sigh of satisfaction, she rose, dropped the jewel in her pocket, and
turned toward the palace. Arriving there, she sent a page to the
King to announce that the Pink Topaz had been recovered and the
finder would that night claim the reward, but, until then, would
prefer to remain unknown.
The Court buzzed with excitement and curiosity, although by common
consent Prince Valmir was declared to be the fortunate man. The
great news met each prince as he rode in at the outer gate, and
stifled hope forever in his heart. Yet each was eager to see upon
whom the reward would be bestowed, and the vast audience hall was
filled when the hour arrived.
At the end of the hall a dais covered with crimson cloth supported
the throne of King Yolo the Twelfth. Above the golden carving of his
chair glowed a magnificent sunburst of jewels; sapphires bluer than a
summer night's sky; emeralds of tenderer green than young spring
leaves; amethysts that caught their tints from far-off purple hills;
opals that united all the hues of sea and sky and land; diamonds
unnumbered, and in the very center of all, a wonderful ruby of great
size and untold splendor.
Upon the throne sat the King, clad in his purple and ermine robes,
the crown upon his head, the scepter in his hand. At his right was
placed, a little lower than his own, the chair of the Princess, while
on his left Prince Valmir stood, all those other woebegone princes
ranged beyond him.
A strip of crimson cloth reached from the throne to the bronze
entrance doors at the farther end of the hall. On either side stood
the people, waiting to greet the happy man who had won their Princess.
All down the sides the torches flamed, casting fitful shadows up
among the massive rafters of carven oak, black with age. As the
light flickered upon them it brought into view grinning monsters that
supported the huge timbers,--griffins and dragons that, once seen,
peopled the darkness long after for terrified children. It fell on
banners pendent from the walls, their threads of blue and scarlet and
gold now gleaming in the light, now hanging somber in the shadow. It
shone below on burnished shields, and mirrored itself in a thousand
tiny points on helm and cuirass, mace and spear. It lay softly on
the uncovered heads of silent, waiting people.
Suddenly there sounded a blast of trumpets, thrilling each listener,
and the doors swung open to admit--the Princess. Only the Princess,
but how fair, how beautiful to the eyes of her faithful subjects, to
all those unlucky princes, and to that one nearest the throne, whose
heart was nigh to breaking.
Slowly she advanced up the long hall, her little silken-shod feet
falling lightly as snowflakes. No sound was heard save the rustle of
her robes of cloth of gold, down which streamed her shining tresses,
dulling all the luster of her garments. A circlet of diamonds rested
on her head, but the little hands, clasped tightly together, were
bare of jewels. Her long dark lashes swept her cheeks, upon which
the color now glowed, now paled, as she moved along.
Her father rose to lead her to her place, but the Princess Lotis
stopped at the foot of the throne and, holding out her hand to the
King, said "Gracious Sovereign and father, behold in me, the Princess
Lotis, the finder of the Pink Topaz!"
The King was too astounded to respond at once, and the Princess
continued:
"In returning the ring, oh, my father, I claim the reward thou hast
offered for it."
"Oh," said the King, "the ducats. Well, 't is but just." Turning to
the Keeper of the Royal Treasure, he commanded "Pay to my daughter,
the Princess Lotis, one million ducats, the reward due her as finder
of the ring."
"Do thou," said the Princess to the Keeper of the Royal Treasure,
"distribute to-morrow among the poor of the kingdom those ducats, to
each one according to his need."
The King nodded approvingly, and a murmur of admiration and affection
arose from the listening throng. Then the Princess turned again
toward her father with a heightened color in her face, and spoke in
tones that were not quite steady:
"My father, there is yet another reward."
"True," answered King Yolo, a little puzzled, "but that--"
"That also, 'the hand of the Princess,' I demand as finder of the
ring."
The King smiled.
"Is not that thine own, my daughter?"
"It is the right to dispose of it, most gracious Sovereign, I now
ask," breathed the Princess in tones heard only by the King and
Prince Valmir, who was bending eagerly forward.
The monarch frowned in perplexity, then, as his eyes fell on the
Prince, his brow lightened and he answered "Be it so. As the finder
of the ring I grant to thee 'the hand of the Princess,' to dispose of
as thou shalt desire."
There was a moment's pause, and then the Princess Lotis took a step
toward Prince Valmir and held out her hand. Down upon his knee fell
that gallant knight, and pressed his lips to the little hand he had
believed forever lost to him. When he arose, the King handed him the
Pink Topaz, saying:
"Take with my daughter this jewel, which holds the fortunes of our
family. All that I have shall be thine, and thou shalt be as a son
to me."
Bowing low, the Prince received it, slipped it upon the hand of the
Princess which he still held, and they knelt at the feet of the King
for his blessing.
Then a great shout arose from all the people which rang through the
rafters and stirred the silken banners and echoed from the brazen
shields.
And the Wisest Man, who scorned festivities, hastened back to his
History, where he found his long-lost glasses, and immediately
proceeded to record, with many footnotes, the second finding of the
Pink Topaz.
[This story resembles The Tale of Mushkil Gusha.]
