all at once she jumped to her feet, and ran at full speed down the hill and into the wood. she heard howlings and yellings on all sides of her, but she ran straight on, as near as she could judge. her spirits rose as she ran. suddenly she saw before her, in the dusk of the thick wood, a group of some dozen wolves and hyenas, standing all together right in her way, with their green eyes fixed upon her staring. she faltered one step, then bethought her of what the wise woman had promised, and keeping straight on, dashed right into the middle of them. they fled howling, as if she had struck them with fire. she was no more afraid after that, and ere the sun was up she was out of the wood and upon the heath, which no bad thing could step upon and live. with the first peep of the sun above the horizon, she saw the little cottage before her, and ran as fast as she could run towards it, when she came near it, she saw that the door was open, and ran straight into the outstretched arms of the wise woman.
the wise woman kissed her and stroked her hair, set her down by the fire, and gave her a bowl of bread and milk.
when she had eaten it she drew her before her where she sat, and spoke to her thus:—
“rosamond, if you would be a blessed creature instead of a mere wretch, you must submit to be tried.”
“is that something terrible?” asked the princess, turning white.
“no, my child; but it is something very difficult to come well out of. nobody who has not been tried knows how difficult it is; but whoever has come well out of it, and those who do not overcome never do come out of it, always looks back with horror, not on what she has come through, but on the very idea of the possibility of having failed, and being still the same miserable creature as before.”
“you will tell me what it is before it begins?” said the princess.
“i will not tell you exactly. but i will tell you some things to help you. one great danger is that perhaps you will think you are in it before it has really begun, and say to yourself, ‘oh! this is really nothing to me. it may be a trial to some, but for me i am sure it is not worth mentioning.’ and then, before you know, it will be upon you, and you will fail utterly and shamefully.”
“i will be very, very careful,” said the princess. “only don’t let me be frightened.”
“you shall not be frightened, except it be your own doing. you are already a brave girl, and there is no occasion to try you more that way. i saw how you rushed into the middle of the ugly creatures; and as they ran from you, so will all kinds of evil things, as long as you keep them outside of you, and do not open the cottage of your heart to let them in. i will tell you something more about what you will have to go through.
“nobody can be a real princess—do not imagine you have yet been any thing more than a mock one—until she is a princess over herself, that is, until, when she finds herself unwilling to do the thing that is right, she makes herself do it. so long as any mood she is in makes her do the thing she will be sorry for when that mood is over, she is a slave, and no princess. a princess is able to do what is right even should she unhappily be in a mood that would make another unable to do it. for instance, if you should be cross and angry, you are not a whit the less bound to be just, yes, kind even—a thing most difficult in such a mood—though ease itself in a good mood, loving and sweet. whoever does what she is bound to do, be she the dirtiest little girl in the street, is a princess, worshipful, honorable. nay, more; her might goes farther than she could send it, for if she act so, the evil mood will wither and die, and leave her loving and clean.—do you understand me, dear rosamond?”
as she spoke, the wise woman laid her hand on her head and looked—oh, so lovingly!—into her eyes.
“i am not sure,” said the princess, humbly.
“perhaps you will understand me better if i say it just comes to this, that you must not do what is wrong, however much you are inclined to do it, and you must do what is right, however much you are disinclined to do it.”
“i understand that,” said the princess.
“i am going, then, to put you in one of the mood-chambers of which i have many in the house. its mood will come upon you, and you will have to deal with it.”
she rose and took her by the hand. the princess trembled a little, but never thought of resisting.
the wise woman led her into the great hall with the pictures, and through a door at the farther end, opening upon another large hall, which was circular, and had doors close to each other all round it. of these she opened one, pushed the princess gently in, and closed it behind her.
the princess found herself in her old nursery. her little white rabbit came to meet her in a lumping canter as if his back were going to tumble over his head. her nurse, in her rocking-chair by the chimney corner, sat just as she had used. the fire burned brightly, and on the table were many of her wonderful toys, on which, however, she now looked with some contempt. her nurse did not seem at all surprised to see her, any more than if the princess had but just gone from the room and returned again.
“oh! how different i am from what i used to be!” thought the princess to herself, looking from her toys to her nurse. “the wise woman has done me so much good already! i will go and see mamma at once, and tell her i am very glad to be at home again, and very sorry i was so naughty.”
she went towards the door.
“your queen-mamma, princess, cannot see you now,” said her nurse.
“i have yet to learn that it is my part to take orders from a servant,” said the princess with temper and dignity.
“i beg your pardon, princess,” returned her nurse, politely; “but it is my duty to tell you that your queen-mamma is at this moment engaged. she is alone with her most intimate friend, the princess of the frozen regions.”
“i shall see for myself,” returned the princess, bridling, and walked to the door.
now little bunny, leap-frogging near the door, happened that moment to get about her feet, just as she was going to open it, so that she tripped and fell against it, striking her forehead a good blow. she caught up the rabbit in a rage, and, crying, “it is all your fault, you ugly old wretch!” threw it with violence in her nurse’s face.
her nurse caught the rabbit, and held it to her face, as if seeking to sooth its fright. but the rabbit looked very limp and odd, and, to her amazement, rosamond presently saw that the thing was no rabbit, but a pocket-handkerchief. the next moment she removed it from her face, and rosamond beheld—not her nurse, but the wise woman—standing on her own hearth, while she herself stood by the door leading from the cottage into the hall.
“first trial a failure,” said the wise woman quietly.
overcome with shame, rosamond ran to her, fell down on her knees, and hid her face in her dress.
“need i say any thing?” said the wise woman, stroking her hair.
“no, no,” cried the princess. “i am horrid.”
“you know now the kind of thing you have to meet: are you ready to try again?”
“may i try again?” cried the princess, jumping up. “i’m ready. i do not think i shall fail this time.”
“the trial will be harder.”
rosamond drew in her breath, and set her teeth. the wise woman looked at her pitifully, but took her by the hand, led her to the round hall, opened the same door, and closed it after her.
the princess expected to find herself again in the nursery, but in the wise woman’s house no one ever has the same trial twice. she was in a beautiful garden, full of blossoming trees and the loveliest roses and lilies. a lake was in the middle of it, with a tiny boat. so delightful was it that rosamond forgot all about how or why she had come there, and lost herself in the joy of the flowers and the trees and the water. presently came the shout of a child, merry and glad, and from a clump of tulip trees rushed a lovely little boy, with his arms stretched out to her. she was charmed at the sight, ran to meet him, caught him up in her arms, kissed him, and could hardly let him go again. but the moment she set him down he ran from her towards the lake, looking back as he ran, and crying “come, come.”
she followed. he made straight for the boat, clambered into it, and held out his hand to help her in. then he caught up the little boat-hook, and pushed away from the shore: there was a great white flower floating a few yards off, and that was the little fellow’s goal. but, alas! no sooner had rosamond caught sight of it, huge and glowing as a harvest moon, than she felt a great desire to have it herself. the boy, however, was in the bows of the boat, and caught it first. it had a long stem, reaching down to the bottom of the water, and for a moment he tugged at it in vain, but at last it gave way so suddenly, that he tumbled back with the flower into the bottom of the boat. then rosamond, almost wild at the danger it was in as he struggled to rise, hurried to save it, but somehow between them it came in pieces, and all its petals of fretted silver were scattered about the boat. when the boy got up, and saw the ruin his companion had occasioned, he burst into tears, and having the long stalk of the flower still in his hand, struck her with it across the face. it did not hurt her much, for he was a very little fellow, but it was wet and slimy. she tumbled rather than rushed at him, seized him in her arms, tore him from his frightened grasp, and flung him into the water. his head struck on the boat as he fell, and he sank at once to the bottom, where he lay looking up at her with white face and open eyes.
the moment she saw the consequences of her deed she was filled with horrible dismay. she tried hard to reach down to him through the water, but it was far deeper than it looked, and she could not. neither could she get her eyes to leave the white face: its eyes fascinated and fixed hers; and there she lay leaning over the boat and staring at the death she had made. but a voice crying, “ally! ally!” shot to her heart, and springing to her feet she saw a lovely lady come running down the grass to the brink of the water with her hair flying about her head.
“where is my ally?” she shrieked.
but rosamond could not answer, and only stared at the lady, as she had before stared at her drowned boy.
then the lady caught sight of the dead thing at the bottom of the water, and rushed in, and, plunging down, struggled and groped until she reached it. then she rose and stood up with the dead body of her little son in her arms, his head hanging back, and the water streaming from him.
“see what you have made of him, rosamond!” she said, holding the body out to her; “and this is your second trial, and also a failure.”
the dead child melted away from her arms, and there she stood, the wise woman, on her own hearth, while rosamond found herself beside the little well on the floor of the cottage, with one arm wet up to the shoulder. she threw herself on the heather-bed and wept from relief and vexation both.
the wise woman walked out of the cottage, shut the door, and left her alone. rosamond was sobbing, so that she did not hear her go. when at length she looked up, and saw that the wise woman was gone, her misery returned afresh and tenfold, and she wept and wailed. the hours passed, the shadows of evening began to fall, and the wise woman entered.
