dawn, but as yet there was no streak of light
in the sky, when he came to a great birch-tree, and sat down weary at
the foot of it. While he sat--very miserable, you may be sure--full of
fear for the princess, and wondering how her attendants could take it so
quietly, he bethought himself that it would not be a bad plan to light
a fire, which, if she were anywhere near, would attract her. This he
managed with a tinder-box, which the good fairy had given him. It was
just beginning to blaze up, when he heard a moan, which seemed to come
from the other side of the tree. He sprung to his feet, but his heart
throbbed so that he had to lean for a moment against the tree before he
could move. When he got round, there lay a human form in a little dark
heap on the earth. There was light enough from his fire to show that it
was not the princess. He lifted it in his arms, hardly heavier than a
child, and carried it to the flame. The countenance was that of an old
woman, but it had a fearfully strange look. A black hood concealed her
hair, and her eyes were closed. He laid her down as comfortably as he
could, chafed her hands, put a little cordial from a bottle, also the
gift of the fairy, into her mouth; took off his coat and wrapped it
about her, and in short did the best he could. In a little while she
opened her eyes and looked at him--so pitifully! The tears rose and
flowed from her grey wrinkled cheeks, but she said never a word. She
closed her eyes again, but the tears kept on flowing, and her whole
appearance was so utterly pitiful that the prince was near crying too.
He begged her to tell him what was the matter, promising to do all
he could to help her; but still she did not speak. He thought she was
dying, and took her in his arms again to carry her to the princess's
house, where he thought the good-natured cook might be able to do
something for her. When he lifted her, the tears flowed yet faster, and
she gave such a sad moan that it went to his very heart.
"Mother, mother!" he said. "Poor mother!" and kissed her on the withered
lips.
She started; and what eyes they were that opened upon him! But he did
not see them, for it was still very dark, and he had enough to do to
make his way through the trees towards the house.
Just as he approached the door, feeling more tired than he could have
imagined possible--she was such a little thin old thing--she began to
move, and became so restless that, unable to carry her a
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