The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Dreamer of Dreams, by Marie, Queen of Roumania, Illustrated by Edmund Dulac

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Title: The Dreamer of Dreams

Author: Marie, Queen of Roumania

Release Date: October 6, 2012 [eBook #40950]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DREAMER OF DREAMS***

E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan,
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
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from page images generously made available by
Internet Archive/American Libraries
(http://archive.org/details/americana)

The DREAMER of DREAMS

By THE QUEEN of ROUMANIA

ILLUSTRATED BY EDMUND DULAC

HODDER & STOUGHTON
LONDON, NEW YORK, TORONTO

Everything about her was white, glistening and shining.

Dedicated
TO MY DAUGHTER
ILEANA
"I LOOKED INTO HER EYES AND THEREIN
I SAW HOPES AND DREAMS AND ALL THE
PROMISES LIFE CONTAINS."

ILLUSTRATIONS

I

And I dream in my waking dreams, and deep in the dreams of sleep.

Fiona MacLeod.

Consternation reigned in King Wanda's castle,—the great Northern King before whose will so many trembled, before whose smile so many crouched in expectation. His favourite painter had suddenly lost his wits and refused to finish the picture he had begun on the walls of the ancient hall where all the great banquets were held—a beautiful hall, where a frieze was being conjured into life by the incomparable art of Eric Gundian, a quite young man of wonderful talent, who had been discovered by the King one sunshiny morning.

Each day that Eric Gundian had spent within the King's walls his reputation had grown, and he had, all unconsciously, become the Court favourite. His every whim had been an order; and his gay handsome face had been loved by old and young.

The creeping jealousies around him had died down of themselves before the sweetness of his smile and the wonder of his art.

The sound of his voice was like spring birds singing of love in green-clad forests, and when the sun shone on his head it was like the haze of a summer's evening over a ripe cornfield. In his eyes slumbered the beautiful peace of mountain lakes, and in his heart there lived the simple trust of a pure soul ... and now Eric Gundian, Eric of the golden locks—Eric the fairy-fingered, Eric the sweet-voiced had lost his wits!

One morning he awoke, and no one could understand the meaning of his talk; he declared he had had a dream, and in his dream he had seen two eyes, the eyes he needed for the completing of his picture; and without those eyes he never again could touch either colour or brush. King Wanda had called for him to be brought before his presence, but Eric had sullenly refused to answer his command.

At first King Wanda had been furiously angry, but then he remembered Eric's wonderful art, and had deigned to go out to where his favourite sat on the cool marble steps, that led down to the lake, before the King's white palace of beauty.

Eric had risen before the crowned figure that bent towards him a stern face of inquiry, but to all the King's questions, to all his persuasions, flatteries, threats, and entreaties Eric had replied with a sad gesture of resignation, that never again could he take up his brush till he had found those eyes which had haunted his dream. His pain and his despair were so evident, that King Wanda felt that no words had force to move the distracted young man. Sadly he departed, and mounted one by one the shallow marble steps which reflected in glowing colours the costly clothes that he wore. Once more he turned and looked down upon his favourite, who sat, his head in his hands, gazing across the sparkling lake; he heaved a deep sigh and felt like quarrelling with Fate who had despoiled him of one of his great joys.

As he reached the palace door, he was met by the sweet little figure of his daughter, who came out into the sunshine, gathering up her long trailing dress, a golden ball clasped in her hands. The King smiled upon her, and bade her go down to the water's edge to try and console the young painter with her radiant youth. With a gay laugh Oona rolled her golden ball down the snow-white steps, and it fell with a splash into the water at the young man's feet, making great circles that spread, always widening, over the blue expanse; but Eric never moved, he kept staring into the distance as if he were following a vision no other eye could see. Oona came noiselessly down the steps, rather awed by the silence and stillness of the young man who had always been her gayest playfellow.

Gently she drew near to where he sat, and dropped down at his side—then like a playful kitten she nestled quite close to him and peered up into his face. The smile faded