She again took him by the hand, and they walked outside through the wall just as they had entered. When their feet crunched on the snow, they rose off the ground and flew through the sky. William looked behind them and saw the sun as its last light disappeared. Again they raced headlong into darkness again. Unlike the first two darknesses of blackness and night, there was a strange foreboding about this darkness. It cast over William feelings of dread and doom and despair. He wondered if there were not unseen beings watching them fly by. Suddenly lightning flashed and thunder boomed all around them; then they were on solid ground again. They seemed to be on a road covered with a gray mist. It was raining as the lightning and thunder continued above them.
"I do not recognize this place, fairy godmother; where are we?" William asked. Turning to her, he gasped. Her hair reached the ground; her eyes were black as coal. Her hair and skin and dress were white as chalk. She seemed like an old woman, but still she stood tall. Yet her skin and face, without wrinkle or crease, still seemed like that of a young girl. The fairy, looking about with her deep black eyes, did not answer his question but simply said, "Come." And they started walking down the road.
After walking a while (William was not sure if they had walked for six minutes or six hours), three darkly clothed figures appeared through the rain and mist. William and his guide drew closer to where the three had stopped on the road. They could hear some of the conversation.
"I don't know all; I only know he's dead," one figure said.
"I heard it was murder or poison," another said.
"I doubt anyone will really worry. He's gone and all are happy," the third said.
"Hear, hear!" the first said.
"May the new majesty set things right," the second said.
This was also agreed upon, and they moved on and that was that. "Those men seemed familiar," William said to the fairy.
She did not answer but instead led him forward on the road. Soon they came to a huge stone wall that towered before them. William wondered how they were to get around it, but .the fairy took him by the hand, and they walked through the wall and found themselves inside a dark room with only a few candles to shed light. A bed was in the center of the room; there lay someone on it, but the face was covered by a sheet. Shadows danced on the walls. The fairy pointed a finger toward the bed and said, "Go."
William looked at her, puzzled, and she made a sign with her hand for him to lift the sheet from the person's face. William began to tremble.
"Please, fairy godmother! Show me more before I must see this face!" William begged. "So be it," the fairy said in a grave voice that sent a chill up William's spine. She turned back toward the way they had entered, and William followed.
They no longer faced the wall but another room. A young woman was kneeling at a bed and seemed to be praying. An old woman came up to her, laid a hand on her shoulder, and said gently, "The ministers are waiting."
The young woman rose from where she knelt and allowed the old woman to put a robe about her shoulders. The old woman then kissed her on both cheeks and curtsied. "Your Majesty," she said softly.
"Not yet, my, friend," the woman answered. Then, taking a deep breath, she went out the door, followed by the old woman.
Before William could think on this, he and the fairy were on the same road they had been on before.
"Must we come back to this frightful place?" he asked. The fairy did not answer. "That young woman, she seemed familiar. Do I know her?" No answer.
They continued on in silence for a while. "Fairy godmother, are the things that we're seeing things that have happened, will happen, or might happen?" The fairy only looked at him with her black eyes. "I promise you that this heart of mine is changing. It is!" Tears streamed down William's face. A great fear had seized him. He dreaded what would be at the end of the road.
Two iron gates loomed before them and opened by themselves. William held back, but the fairy urged him on. He realized this was not the royal cemetery. It was where the beggars and wretches without family were buried. He took a little heart. The thought gave him very little comfort.
"Why are we here?" he asked.
The fairy pointed with her finger to a stone. "Go!"
William trembled again. He begged, "Must I? Can we not do it together? Please show me just a little more --"
The fairy turned her piercing eyes on him. Still pointing, she said, "Look!" Lightning and thunder responded with the loud command.
William could hardly walk. He felt sure his knees would buckle. Kneeling next to the stone, he raised his eyes to the writing: KING WILLIAM II. Again the tears came. A cloud burst. Thunder crashed. Lightning flashed. Winds howled.
William stumbled to his feet and turned to the fairy, still as a statue except for her white hair blown by the wind.
Oh, please, fairy godmother!" William cried, falling at her feet and wrapping his arm around her ankles. "Don't tell me that I am to lie with the worst people of the kingdom!"
"You are unworthy of the title king!" the voice boomed, echoing what he had first been told at his bedside.
"Please! Give me another chance! I will not look at another gold or silver piece again. I will listen to the villagers. I will not rob my friends. And I will love my daughter! Oh, I beseech you, fairy godmother!" William cried over the wind.
Suddenly the wind stopped, the thunder and lighting ceased, the rain was no more. From far off, a distant sound came to William's ear. Louder and louder it came. "Long live the queen! Long live the queen! Long live the queen!"
Then the storm started up again. The rain came harder. The wind blew stronger. A funnel dropped from the sky and touched the ground. Everything blew round and round. But the fairy was like a mighty oak. For not even a hair on her head did the wind blow.
William felt the wind clawing at him, wanting to take him up in the funnel. But his holding onto his fairy godmother kept him safe. He looked up and saw with horror that they were inside the funnel. He buried his head in the fairy's hair on the ground and closed his eyes.
All that he had seen flashed before him: his playing with the village children, the Christmas ball, his seeing his child, the village in the morning, Mary's tears, families full of joy, his friends celebrating, the men on the road, the covered body, the young woman, the gravestone.
Voices echoed in his head.
"You are unworthy of the title king!"
"But you have more than enough riches."
"What a pity her hair isn't gold like her mother's."
"...he took the scarf and tore it to pieces."
"I shall probably be the only one who will mourn his death."
"He's gone and all are happy."
"Long live the queen! Long live the queen! Long live the queen!"
"Please!" William begged again.
The fairy raised her arms, and the wind blew her hair. William felt the wind pulling him. "PLEASE!" he shouted and sat up.
He was in his own bed in his own room. He looked about him, hardly daring to believe it. He opened the curtains and looked down on the village. All seemed quiet. Have I missed it? Am I too late? William wondered to himself.
"Thank you, fairy godmother! I promise that I will not go back on my word. May every person have a godmother like you!"
He could not believe it. He was in his own castle. He got dressed in a rush. As he hurried to the throne room, he saw one of the little kitchen boys. "Good morning, my good fellow! What's today?"
The boy was struck dumb with surprise, for he had never heard such a greeting from the king to one like himself. He gave a bow and answered, "Why, Your Majesty, it be Christmas Day."
"It's Christmas Day!" William said joyfully. The boy nodded. His fairy godmother had not let him miss it!
"Oh! That is wonderful!" He took the boy by the hands and started doing a happy jig right there. All. the servants who happened to go by the hall stopped and looked again and gasped in amazement at the sight.
William went to the throne room after wishing all he saw a merry Christmas. He happened to catch Mary and her nanny just as they were getting ready to leave for the village. "We will be back at noon, Father," Mary promised. "Very well," William said.
He wondered whether to hug her or to wait for her to hug him. But she turned to the door without giving him one and would have gone out if William had not said, "Mary!"
Mary turned back and was crushed as William embraced her. She was very surprised at this but happily hugged him back.
Then William said, "You and nanny will not go alone today, for I will come with you, if you would like that."
Mary's face burst with sunshine, and she hugged him once again. Oh! How she would love that!
Then she said to him, "I have a present for you, Father. It isn't as pretty as your gifts from your friends. But I hope you like it."
And from her pocket she drew out a royal red scarf, which was not tom to pieces.
William took the scarf from her and wrapped it around his neck. "It's the perfect gift," William told her.
Then William, Mary, and the nanny all skipped happily down to the village. And you can imagine all the amazed looks on the villagers' faces when they saw King William with Mary. It was a wonderful day, and William listened to all his subjects and played with the little children. And after that William never went to his treasury unless to give some money to someone in need. And when he stopped expecting his friends to give him great presents, they were truly friends to him. He spent many long evenings with Mary, reading to her by the fire. And so William became worthy of the title king and was deeply loved by all his subjects. And when he died, he was greatly mourned, for he had been a wise and good king. But during all the rest of his life he never forgot his fairy godmother and what he had learned.
And that is what happened, for I saw and heard all, and I have told you everything. And so my story is done.
