atue in her little garden, and she kissed him
again, and wished that he might live. Presently they came in sight
of land; she saw lofty blue mountains, on which the white snow
rested as if a flock of swans were lying upon them. Near the coast
were beautiful green forests, and close by stood a large building,
whether a church or a convent she could not tell. Orange and citron
trees grew in the garden, and before the door stood lofty palms. The
sea here formed a little bay, in which the water was quite still,
but very deep; so she swam with the handsome prince to the beach,
which was covered with fine, white sand, and there she laid him in the
warm sunshine, taking care to raise his head higher than his body.
Then bells sounded in the large white building, and a number of
young girls came into the garden. The little mermaid swam out
farther from the shore and placed herself between some high rocks that
rose out of the water; then she covered her head and neck with the
foam of the sea so that her little face might not be seen, and watched
to see what would become of the poor prince. She did not wait long
before she saw a young girl approach the spot where he lay. She seemed
frightened at first, but only for a moment; then she fetched a
number of people, and the mermaid saw that the prince came to life
again, and smiled upon those who stood round him. But to her he sent
no smile; he knew not that she had saved him. This made her very
unhappy, and when he was led away into the great building, she dived
down sorrowfully into the water, and returned to her father's
castle. She had always been silent and thoughtful, and now she was
more so than ever. Her sisters asked her what she had seen during
her first visit to the surface of the water; but she would tell them
nothing. Many an evening and morning did she rise to the place where
she had left the prince. She saw the fruits in the garden ripen till
they were gathered, the snow on the tops of the mountains melt away;
but she never saw the prince, and therefore she returned home,
always more sorrowful than before. It was her only comfort to sit in
her own little garden, and fling her arm round the beautiful marble
statue which was like the prince; but she gave up tending her flowers,
and they grew in wild confusion over the paths, twining their long
leaves and stems round the branches of the trees, so that the whole
place became dark and gloomy. At length she could bear it no lon