A cry of joy burst from the boy’s lips, and he clasped his treasure as if it had been indeed a flower from paradise.

“Edelweiss!  Edelweiss!” was all he could utter, but the sweet and grateful tone thanked Franz better than a thousand other words could have done.

“Why, Franz,” they all asked, “where did you get it at this season?  It does not grow in winter.”

“No,” said Franz, “I know that it does not, but I have often found it in summer, and I just happened to remember plucking some by the roots last spring for Father Glueckner up at the convent—­he is always gathering roots and herbs for the sick, and he has a great curiosity to transplant wild-flowers that he may see what they will produce under cultivation.  See; this plant already has flowers—­months too soon.  He has several others, so he gave me this quite willingly.”

While they were talking, the little stranger had drawn a small case of birch-bark from his pocket, and was earnestly comparing the faded and pressed flower it contained with the blooming one beside him.  His face glowed with happiness, and from that moment his restoration to health began.

CHAPTER III

Again the summer-time had come, with all its warmth and beauty.  The fairies were thronging all the wildwood one lovely summer evening, when a tall, handsome lad, with light, quick tread and merry glancing eyes, entered the woods, followed by a red fox, and boldly shouted, “Florella!  Florella!” making the woods ring with his voice.

You would not have supposed that this could be the same boy whose sobbing aroused Florella’s compassion—­the poor, trembling little creature, spiritless and unhappy, who had hardly dared to say his name was Florio.  But so it was; and when he called so loudly in his cheery voice, Florella quickly came forth from the sweet-brier bush and stood before him.

Doffing the cap which covered his curly pate, and bending on one knee, Florio presented without words the small plant which he had guarded with the utmost care.

A look of gracious sweetness came into the fairy’s face, and she examined the flowers with the eye of one accustomed to look at things closely.  Having assured herself that it was the desired plant, she turned to her assistants and invited them to examine it also.  All agreed that it was the far-famed Edelweiss, and there was a great fluttering of wings, and soft exclamations of delight and excited surprise, until Florella, with a gentle wave of her hand, commanded silence.

“Now, young knight of our fair domain,” she said, addressing Florio, “give me some account of your journeying, for not only have you done all that I desired, but more:  here are not only seeds, but flowers and root.  I pray you be seated while I listen.”

Florio had learned to be mannerly, so with cap in hand he only leaned against a beech-tree, and began: