thing: he would inform you of your birth, of your good and ill fortune; there is nothing, however secret, that he will not find out for you; and when the world says, 'Belle-Etoile possesses the dancing water and the singing apple,' it will say at the same time, 'but she has not the little green bird which tells everything, and without that she might almost as well have nothing.'"
Having thus said all she intended, she retired. The Princess, sad and thoughtful, began to sigh bitterly. "This woman is right," said she; "what advantage can arise from my possessing the water and the apple, if I know not who I am, who are my parents, and by what fatality my brothers and I were exposed to the fury of the waves? There must be something very extraordinary in our births that we should have been thus abandoned; and the interposition of Providence alone could have preserved us in such perils. What delight it would be to know my father and mother, to cherish them if they are still living, and to honour their memory if dead!" Upon which tears rolled down her cheeks, like drops of morning dew bathing the lilies and roses.
Cheri, who was always more impatient to see her than either of the others, hurried back as soon as the chase was over. He was on foot; his bow hung negligently by his side; he had some arrows in his hand; his long hair confined by a riband. In this guise he had a martial air, which was infinitely charming. As soon as the Princess saw him she turned into a dark walk, that he might not observe the traces of grief upon her face, which a lover would be sure to detect. The Prince joined her. He scarcely looked at her before he knew she was in some trouble. He was greatly distressed at it. He begged, he implored her to tell him what was the matter. She obstinately refused to do so. At last, he turned the point of one of the arrows to his heart, saying, "You do not love me, Belle-Etoile, and I have nothing to do but to die." The manner in which he spoke alarmed her so desperately, that she could no longer refuse to tell him her secret; but she revealed it only on condition that he would not again risk his life by endeavouring to satisfy her desires. He promised all she exacted of him, and betrayed no intention of undertaking this last journey.
As soon as Belle-Etoile had retired to her room, and the
