Part 36 (2/2)

Not long after this, the widow's son returned to his native land.

There, sure enough, was the tiny cottage where he had lived with his mother, but the gorgeous building beside it was quite new to him. What had become of his wife and his mother, and who could be dwelling in that other wonderful place. These were the first thoughts that flashed through his mind; but not wis.h.i.+ng to betray himself by asking questions of pa.s.sing strangers, he climbed up into a tree that stood opposite the palace and watched.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BLIND RAGE FILLED THE HEART OF THE WATCHER]

By-and-by a lady came out, and began to gather some of the roses and jessamine that hung about the porch. The twenty years that had pa.s.sed since he had last beheld her vanished in an instant, and he knew her to be his own wife, looking almost as young and beautiful as on the day of their parting. He was about to jump down from the tree and hasten to her side, when she was joined by a young man who placed his arm affectionately round her neck. At this sight the angry husband drew his bow, but before he could let fly the arrow, the counsel of the wise man came back to him: 'Patience is the first step on the road to happiness.' And he laid it down again.

At this moment the princess turned, and drawing her companion's head down to hers, kissed him on each cheek. A second time blind rage filled the heart of the watcher, and he s.n.a.t.c.hed up his bow from the branch where it hung, when words, heard long since, seemed to sound in his ears:

'He wins who waits.' And the bow dropped to his side. Then, through the silent air came the sound of the youth's voice:

'Mother, can you tell me nothing about my father? Does he still live, and will he never return to us?'

'Alas! my son, how can I answer you?' replied the lady. 'Twenty years have pa.s.sed since he left us to make his fortune, and, in that time, only once have I heard aught of him. But what has brought him to your mind just now?'

'Because last night I dreamed that he was here,' said the youth, 'and then I remembered what I have so long forgotten, that I _had_ a father, though even his very history was strange to me. And now, tell me, I pray you, all you can concerning him.'

And standing under the jessamine, the son learnt his father's history, and the man in the tree listened also.

'Oh,' exclaimed the youth, when it was ended, while he twisted his hands in pain, 'I am general-in-chief, you are the king's daughter, and we have the most splendid palace in the whole world, yet my father lives we know not where, and for all we can guess, may be poor and miserable. To-morrow I will ask the king to give me soldiers, and I will seek him over the whole earth till I find him.'

Then the man came down from the tree, and clasped his wife and son in his arms. All that night they talked, and when the sun rose it still found them talking. But as soon as it was proper, he went up to the palace to pay his homage to the king, and to inform him of all that had happened and who they all really were. The king was overjoyed to think that his daughter, whom he had long since forgiven and sorely missed, was living at his gates, and was, besides, the mother of the youth who was so dear to him. 'It was written beforehand,' cried the monarch. 'You are my son-in-law before the world, and shall be king after me.'

And the man bowed his head.

He had waited; and he had won.

(From _Contes Armeniens_. Par Frederic Macler.)

_THE STEEL CANE_

Once upon a time there lived an old woman who had a small cottage on the edge of the forest. Behind the cottage was a garden in which all sorts of vegetables grew, and, beyond that, a field with two or three cows in it, so her neighbours considered her quite rich, and envied her greatly.

As long as she was strong enough to work all day in her garden the old woman never felt lonely, but after a while she had a bad illness, which left her much weaker than before, and she began to think that now and then it would be nice to have some one to speak to. Just at this moment she heard of the death of a shepherd and his wife, who dwelt on the other side of the plain, leaving a little boy quite alone in the world.

'That will just suit me,' she said; and sent a man over to bring the child, whom she intended to adopt for her own.

Now the boy, who was about twelve years old, ought to have considered himself very lucky, for his new mother was as kind to him as the old one. But, unfortunately, he made friends with some bad rude companions whose tricks caused them to be a terror to everyone, and the poor old woman never ceased regretting her lost solitude.

Things went on in this way for some years, till the boy became a man.

'Perhaps, if he were to be married he might sober down,' she thought to herself. And she inquired among the neighbours what girls there were of an age to choose from. At length one was found, good and industrious, as well as pretty; and as the young man raised no objections the wedding took place at once, and the bride and bridegroom went to live in the cottage with the old woman. But no change was to be seen in the husband's conduct. All day long he was out amusing himself in the company of his former friends, and if his wife dared to say anything to him on his return home he beat her with his stick. And next year, when a baby was born to them, he beat it also.

At length the old woman's patience was worn out. She saw that it was quite useless to expect the lazy, idle creature to mend his ways, and one day she said to him:

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