So the long night wore away.
At last the eastern sky began to pale; and then a streak of red fire shot up over the horizon; and the sun rose in his glory; and it was day. The people, when they saw the light and heard the fresh singing of the birds, had hope; and they looked anxiously for the coming of the Prince.
Neither King Mago nor Princess Bluebell dared to go aloft to the tower, but waited patiently in the hall; and their faces were pale as death.
The watchmen of the city and those who joined them looked down the long roadway, expecting ever and anon to see Prince Zaphir's golden armour shining in the bright morning light, and his great white plume, that they knew so well, nodding in the breeze. They knew that they could see it afar off, and so they only glanced now and again into the distance.
Suddenly there was a shout from all the people - and then a sudden stillness.
They rose to their feet, and with one accord waited for the news.
For oh, joy! there among them - shorn of his bright armour and his nodding plume, but hale - stood their beloved Prince.
VICTORY was in his look.
He smiled on them, raising his hands as if blessing; and pointed to the King's palace, as though to say:
"Our king! his is the right to hear the earliest tidings."
He passed into the hall, all the people following him.
When King Mago and Princess Bluebell heard the shout and felt the stillness that followed, their hearts began to beat, and they waited in great dread.
Princess Bluebell shuddered and cried a little, and drew closer to the King, and leaned her face on his breast.
As she leaned with her face hidden, she felt the King start. She looked up quickly, and there - oh, joy of joys! - was her own beloved Zaphir entering the hall, with all the people following him.
The King stepped down from his throne and took him in his arms, and kissed him; and Bluebell, too, put her arms round him, and kissed him on the mouth.
Prince Zaphir spoke and said:
"Oh King my Father, and oh People! - God has been good to us, and His arm has given us the victory. Lo, the Giant has fallen in the pride of his strength!"
Then such a shout went up from the people that the roof rang again; and the noise went out over the City on the wings of the wind. The glad multitude shouted again and again, till the sound rolled in waves over the whole Dominion, and Under the Sunset that hour there was naught but joy. The King called Zaphir his Brave Son; and Princess Bluebell kissed him again, and called him her Hero.
At that very time, far away in the forest, the Giant lay fallen in the pride of his strength - the foulest thing in all the land - and over his dead body ran the foxes and the stoats. The snakes crawled around his body; and thither, too, crept all the meaner living things that had fled from him when he lived.
From afar off gathered the vultures for their prey.
Close to the slain Giant, shining in the light, lay the golden armour. The great white plume rose from the helmet and even now nodded in the breeze.
When the people came out to see the dead Giant, they found that rank weeds had grown up already where his blood had fallen, but that round the armour that the Prince had doffed had grown a ring of lovely flowers. Fairest of all was a rose tree in bloom, for the rose that Princess Bluebell had given him had taken root, and had blossomed afresh and made a crown of living roses round the helmet and lay against the stem of the plume.
Then the people took reverently home the golden armour; but Prince Zaphir said that not such armour, but a true heart was the best protection, and that he would not dare to put it on again.
So they hung it up in the Cathedral amongst the grand old flags and the helmets of the old knights, as a memorial of the victory over the Giant.
Prince Zaphir took from the helmet the feather that the King his father had given him of old and he wore it again in his cap. The rose that had blossomed was planted in the centre of the palace garden; and it grew so great that many people could sit under it, and be sheltered from the sun by its wealth of flowers.
When Prince Zaphir's birthday came, the people had made in secret a great preparation.
When he rose in the morning to go to the Cathedral, the whole people had assembled and lined the way on every side. Each person, old and young, held one rose. Those who had many roses brought them for those who had none; and each person had only one that all might be equal in the sight of the Prince whom they loved. They had taken off all the thorns from the stems that the Prince's feet might not be hurt. As he passed they threw their roses in the way, till all the long street was a mass of flowers.
As the Prince went by, they stooped and gathered up the roses that his feet had touched; and they treasured them very dearly.
At each birthday of the Prince they did the same for all their lives long. When Zaphir and Bluebell were married, they strewed their path with roses in the same way, for the people loved them much.
Long and happily lived THE ROSE PRINCE - for so they called him - and his beautiful wife Princess Bluebell.
When in the fulness of time King Mago died - as all men must - they ruled as King and Queen. They ruled well and unselfishly, ever denying themselves and striving to make others good and happy.
They were blessed with peace.