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- Джордж Макдональд
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- Страна Северного Ветра
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- Стр. 197/290
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“
Do
I
?
”
said
the
fairy
.
“
Yes
,
you
do
,
”
said
the
prince
.
“
Very
well
,
”
said
the
fairy
.
The
prince
was
not
used
to
be
spoken
to
in
this
fashion
,
so
he
felt
a
little
angry
,
and
turned
and
walked
away
.
But
this
did
not
offend
the
fairy
.
She
stood
at
the
door
of
her
little
house
looking
after
him
till
the
trees
hid
him
quite
.
Then
she
said
“
At
last
!
”
and
went
in
.
The
prince
wandered
and
wandered
,
and
got
nowhere
.
The
sun
sank
and
sank
and
went
out
of
sight
,
and
he
seemed
no
nearer
the
end
of
the
wood
than
ever
.
He
sat
down
on
a
fallen
tree
,
ate
a
bit
of
bread
the
old
woman
had
given
him
,
and
waited
for
the
moon
;
for
,
although
he
was
not
much
of
an
astronomer
,
he
knew
the
moon
would
rise
some
time
,
because
she
had
risen
the
night
before
.
Up
she
came
,
slow
and
slow
,
but
of
a
good
size
,
pretty
nearly
round
indeed
;
whereupon
,
greatly
refreshed
with
his
piece
of
bread
,
he
got
up
and
went
—
he
knew
not
whither
.
After
walking
a
considerable
distance
,
he
thought
he
was
coming
to
the
outside
of
the
forest
;
but
when
he
reached
what
he
thought
the
last
of
it
,
he
found
himself
only
upon
the
edge
of
a
great
open
space
in
it
,
covered
with
grass
.
The
moon
shone
very
bright
,
and
he
thought
he
had
never
seen
a
more
lovely
spot
.
Still
it
looked
dreary
because
of
its
loneliness
,
for
he
could
not
see
the
house
at
the
other
side
.
He
sat
down
,
weary
again
,
and
gazed
into
the
glade
.
He
had
not
seen
so
much
room
for
several
days
.
All
at
once
he
spied
something
in
the
middle
of
the
grass
.
What
could
it
be
?
It
moved
;
it
came
nearer
.
Was
it
a
human
creature
,
gliding
across
—
a
girl
dressed
in
white
,
gleaming
in
the
moonshine
?
She
came
nearer
and
nearer
.
He
crept
behind
a
tree
and
watched
,
wondering
.
It
must
be
some
strange
being
of
the
wood
—
a
nymph
whom
the
moonlight
and
the
warm
dusky
air
had
enticed
from
her
tree
.
But
when
she
came
close
to
where
he
stood
,
he
no
longer
doubted
she
was
human
—
for
he
had
caught
sight
of
her
sunny
hair
,
and
her
clear
blue
eyes
,
and
the
loveliest
face
and
form
that
he
had
ever
seen
.
All
at
once
she
began
singing
like
a
nightingale
,
and
dancing
to
her
own
music
,
with
her
eyes
ever
turned
towards
the
moon
.
She
passed
close
to
where
he
stood
,
dancing
on
by
the
edge
of
the
trees
and
away
in
a
great
circle
towards
the
other
side
,
until
he
could
see
but
a
spot
of
white
in
the
yellowish
green
of
the
moonlit
grass
.
But
when
he
feared
it
would
vanish
quite
,
the
spot
grew
,
and
became
a
figure
once
more
.
She
approached
him
again
,
singing
and
dancing
,
and
waving
her
arms
over
her
head
,
until
she
had
completed
the
circle
.
Just
opposite
his
tree
she
stood
,
ceased
her
song
,
dropped
her
arms
,
and
broke
out
into
a
long
clear
laugh
,
musical
as
a
brook
.
Then
,
as
if
tired
,
she
threw
herself
on
the
grass
,
and
lay
gazing
at
the
moon
.
The
prince
was
almost
afraid
to
breathe
lest
he
should
startle
her
,
and
she
should
vanish
from
his
sight
.
As
to
venturing
near
her
,
that
never
came
into
his
head
.
She
had
lain
for
a
long
hour
or
longer
,
when
the
prince
began
again
to
doubt
concerning
her
.
Perhaps
she
was
but
a
vision
of
his
own
fancy
.
Or
was
she
a
spirit
of
the
wood
,
after
all
?
If
so
,
he
too
would
haunt
the
wood
,
glad
to
have
lost
kingdom
and
everything
for
the
hope
of
being
near
her
.
He
would
build
him
a
hut
in
the
forest
,
and
there
he
would
live
for
the
pure
chance
of
seeing
her
again
.
Upon
nights
like
this
at
least
she
would
come
out
and
bask
in
the
moonlight
,
and
make
his
soul
blessed
.
But
while
he
thus
dreamed
she
sprang
to
her
feet
,
turned
her
face
full
to
the
moon
,
and
began
singing
as
she
would
draw
her
down
from
the
sky
by
the
power
of
her
entrancing
voice
.
She
looked
more
beautiful
than
ever
.
Again
she
began
dancing
to
her
own
music
,
and
danced
away
into
the
distance
.
