He found the
child in the middle of the floor, weeping bitterly, and Derba
slumbering peacefully in bed. The instant she saw him the
night-lost thing ceased her crying, smiled, and stretched out her
arms to him. Unwilling to wake the old woman, who had been working
hard all day, he took the child, and carried her with him. She
clung to him so, pressing her tear-wet radiant face against his,
that her little arms threatened to choke him.
When he re-entered the chamber, he found the king sitting up in
bed, fighting the phantoms of some hideous dream. Generally upon
such occasions, although he saw his watcher, he could not
dissociate him from the dream, and went raving on. But the moment
his eyes fell upon little Barbara, whom he had never seen before,
his soul came into them with a rush, and a smile like the dawn of
an eternal day overspread his countenance; the dream was nowhere,
and the child was in his heart. He stretched out his arms to her,
the child stretched out hers to him, and in five minutes they were
both asleep, each in the other's embrace.
From that night Barbara had a crib in the king's chamber, and as
often as he woke, Irene or Curdie, whichever was watching, took the
sleeping child and laid her in his arms, upon which, invariably and
instantly, the dream would vanish. A great part of the day too she
would be playing on or about the king's bed; and it was a delight
to the heart of the princess to see her amusing herself with the
crown, now sitting upon it, now rolling it hither and thither about
the room like a hoop.
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