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The Hind Of The Forest
by
Longthorn, who learned each evening from the officers of the household, when they came to bring the princess her supper, how far they were on their journey, at last persuaded her mother, who put off the cruel act as long as she could, that it would never do to wait any longer. They were nearly at the capital, and the young prince might, in his impatience, come to meet them, and the opportunity be lost. So next day, at noon, when the sun was at the hottest, the lady-in-waiting took out a knife, which she had brought with her for the purpose, cut a large hole in the side of the carriage where they were all shut up together, and the princess, for the first time in her life, beheld daylight. She uttered a deep sigh, and immediately leaped out of the carriage in the form of a white hind, which fled away like lightning, and hid itself in the thickest recesses of a neighbouring wood.
None of the train perceived her, or if they had, they would not have known it was she; besides, the Fairy of the Fountain immediately sent such a storm of thunder and lightning that the whole cavalcade took shelter in the nearest place they could find. The only persons who knew what had happened were Longthorn, her mother, and Gilliflower; but Gilliflower, overwhelmed with grief, had sprung out of the carriage after her beloved mistress; so the two others were left alone. Longthorn immediately put on the garments of Desiree, and adorned herself with her royal mantle, her crown of diamonds, her sceptre of a single ruby, and the globe which she carried in her left hand, composed of one enormous pearl. Thus attired, with her mother bearing her train, the false Desiree marched into the city–they two alone; for, by the fairy’s contrivance, the rest of the attendants had been scattered in all directions. Longthorn doubted not the prince would be already advancing to meet his bride, which was indeed the case; though he was so weak that he had to be conveyed in a litter, surrounded by courtiers and knights, who all wore splendid armour and green plumes, green being the favourite colour of the princess. Seeing the two ladies so richly dressed, coming forward on foot and unattended, they dismounted, and respectfully greeted them.
“May I inquire,” said Longthorn, “who is in that litter?”
“Madam,” replied a knight, “it is the Prince Warrior, who comes to meet his betrothed, the Princess Desiree.”
“Tell him,” said Longthorn, “that I am she. A fairy, jealous of my happiness, has driven away all my attendants, but that I am Desiree is proved by these my royal ornaments, and the letters of my father, borne by my lady-of-honour here.”
Immediately the courtiers kissed the hem of her robe, and made all diligence to announce to the prince, and the king his father, who accompanied him, that the Princess Desiree had arrived.
“What!” cried the king; “arrived here in full daylight?” But the prince, burning with impatience, asked no questions, except about the lady herself–“Is she not a miracle of beauty–according to her portrait?” There was no reply. “You are afraid to speak, gentlemen, lest you should praise her too much.”
But the courtiers were still silent. “Sir,” at last said one of the boldest of them, “you had better go and see the princess yourself.”
The prince, much surprised, would have thrown himself out of his litter; but he was too feeble, and his father went instead. When the king beheld the false princess, he involuntarily drew back; but the lady-of-honour advancing boldly, said:
“Sire, this is the Princess Desiree;–I bear letters from the king and queen her parents, and also a casket of priceless jewels, which they charged me to place in your hands.”
The king kept a mournful silence, and regarded his son, who now approached, leaning on one of the courtiers. When he looked at the girl, he recoiled with disgust; for she was so gaunt and tall that the clothes of Desiree scarcely covered her knees, and her extreme thinness, her red, hooked nose, her black and ill-shaped teeth, made her as ugly as Desiree was beautiful. Prince Warrior, who for months had thought of nothing but his lovely bride, stood petrified. “King,” said he to his father, “I am betrayed! this is not the lady whose portrait was sent me, and to whom I have plighted my faith; I have been deceived, and the deception will cost me my life.”