The Heart of Princess Osra. Anthony Hope
word must be enough for you."
"And your Majesty says that she loves me?"
"I do say so, smith."
"Then," said Stephen, "I am very sorry for her; for as there's a heaven above us, sire, I do not love her."
Prince Rudolf laughed; Osra's smile broadened in greater scorn; the Countess hid her face in her companion's bosom. The old King roared out a gruff burst. "Good, good!" he chuckled. "But it will come with marriage, smith; for with marriage love either comes or goes—eh, son Rudolf?—and since in this case it cannot go, you must not doubt, friend Stephen, that it will come." And he threw himself back in his chair, greatly amused that a smith, when offered the hand of a Countess, should hesitate to take it. He had not thought of so fine a humiliation as this for the presumptuous girl.
"That might well be, sire," admitted Stephen, "were it not that I most passionately love another."
"Our affections," said the King, "are unruly things, smith, and must be kept in subjection; is it not so, son Rudolf?"
"It should be so, sire," answered the merry Prince.
But the Princess Osra, whose eyes had been scanning Stephen's figure, here broke suddenly into the conversation.
"Are you pledged to her whom you love so passionately?" she asked.
"I have not ventured to tell her of my love, madame," answered he, bowing low.
"Then there is no harm done," observed Prince Rudolf. "The harm lies in the telling, not in the loving."
"Tell us something about her," commanded the Princess; and the King, who loved sport most when it hurt others, chimed in: "Aye, let's hear about her whom you prefer to this lady. In what shop does she work, smith? Or does she sell flowers? Or is she a serving-girl? Come, listen, Countess, and hear about your rival."
Prince Henry took one step forward in uncontrolled anger; but he could not meet the savage mirth in the old man's eyes, and, sinking into a chair, spread his hand across his face. But Stephen, regarding the King with placid good-humour, began to speak of her whom he loved so passionately. And his voice was soft as he spoke.
"She works in no shop, sire," said he, "nor does she sell flowers, nor is she a serving-girl; though I would not care if she were. But one day, when the clouds hung dark over our street, she came riding down it, and another girl with her. The two stopped before my door, and, seeing them, I came out——"
"It is more than you do for me," remarked Prince Rudolf.
Stephen smiled, but continued his story. "I came out; and she whom I love gave me a bracelet to mend. And I, looking at her rather than at the bracelet, said, 'But already it is perfect.' But she did not hear, for, when she had given me the bracelet, she rode on again at once and took no more notice of me than of the flies that were crawling up my wall. That was the first and is the last time that I have spoken to her until this day. But she was so beautiful that there and then I swore that, until I had found means and courage to tell her my love, and until she had thrice refused it, I would marry no other maiden nor speak a word of love."
"It seems to me," said Prince Rudolf, "that the oath has some prudence in it; for if she prove obdurate, friend Stephen, you will then be able to go elsewhere; many lovers swear more intemperately."
"But they do not keep their oaths," said Stephen, with a shrewd look at the Prince.
"You had best let him alone, my son," said the old King. "He knows what all the country knows of its future King."
"Then he may go and hang with all the country," said the Prince peevishly.
But the Princess Osra leant a little forward towards Stephen, and the Countess Hilda also looked covertly out from the folds of her friend's dress at Stephen. And the Princess said:
"Was she then so beautiful, this girl?"
"As the sun in heaven, madame," said the smith.
"As beautiful as my pretty sister?" asked Rudolf in careless jest.
"Yes, as beautiful, sir," answered Stephen.
"Then," said the cruel old King, "very much more beautiful than this Countess?"
"Of that you must ask your son Henry, sire," said Stephen discreetly.
"Nevertheless," said the King, "you must put up with the Countess. We cannot all have what we want in this world, can we, son Henry?" and he chuckled again most maliciously.
"Not, sire, till my lady has thrice refused me," the smith reminded the King.
"Then she must be quick about it. For we all, and my lord Bishop here, are waiting. Send for her, Stephen—by heaven, I have a curiosity to see her!"
"And, by heaven! so have I," added Prince Rudolf with a merry smile. "And poor Henry here may be cured by the sight."
The Princess Osra leant a little further forward, and said gently:
"Tell us her name, and we will send for her. Indeed I also would like to see her."
"But if she refuses, I shall be worse off than I am now; and if she says yes, still I must marry the Countess," objected the smith.
"Nay," said the King, "if she does not refuse you three times, you shall not marry the Countess, but shall be free to try your fortune with the girl;" for the smith had put the old Lion in a better temper, and he thought he was to witness more sport.
"Since your Majesty is so good, I must tell her name," said Stephen, "though I had rather have declared my love to herself alone."
"It is the pleasantest way," said Prince Rudolf, "but the thing can be done in the presence of others also."
"You must tell us her name that we may send for her," said the Princess, her eyes wandering now from the Countess to the smith, and back to the Countess again.
"Well, then," said Stephen sturdily, "the lady who came riding down the street and took away my heart with her is called Osra, and her father is named Henry."
A moment or two passed before they understood what the smith had said. Then the old King fell into a fit of laughter, half choked by coughing; Prince Rudolf clapped his hands in merry mockery, and a deep flush spread over the face of the Princess; while the Countess, her companion, and the younger Prince seemed too astonished to do anything but stare. As for Stephen, having said what he had to say, he held his peace—a thing in him which many men, and women also, would do well to imitate; and, if they cannot, let them pray for the grace that is needful. Heaven is omnipotent.
The old King, having recovered from his fit of laughing, looked round on the smith with infinite amusement, and, turning to his daughter, he said: "Come, Osra, you have heard the declaration. It remains only for you to satisfy our good friend's conscience by refusing him three times. For then he will be free to do our pleasure and make the Countess Hilda happy."
The heart of women is, as it would seem, a strange thing; for the Princess Osra, hearing what the smith had said and learning that he had fallen passionately in love with her on the mere sight of her beauty, suddenly felt a tenderness for him and a greater admiration than she had entertained before; and although she harboured no absurd idea of listening to his madness, or of doing anything in the world but laugh at it as it deserved, yet there came on her a strange dislike of the project that she had herself, in sport, suggested: namely, that the smith should be married immediately to the Countess Hilda by the Lord Bishop of Modenstein. The fellow, this smith, had an eye for true beauty, it seemed. It would be hard to tie him down to this dusky, black-maned girl; for so the Princess described the lady whom her brother loved, she herself being, like most of the Elphbergs, rather red than black in color. Accordingly, when the King spoke to her, she said fretfully:
"Am I to be put to refuse the hand of such a fellow as this? Why, to refuse him is a stain on my dignity!" And she looked most haughty.
"Yet you must grant him so much because of his oath," said the