Indeed, it is most
probable that Ceres was then a thousand miles off, making the corn grow
in some far-distant country. Nor could it have availed her poor
daughter, even had she been within hearing; for no sooner did Proserpina
begin to cry out than the stranger leaped to the ground, caught the
child in his arms, and again mounting the chariot, shook the reins, and
shouted to the four black horses to set off. They immediately broke into
so swift a gallop that it seemed rather like flying through the air
than running along the earth. In a moment, Proserpina lost sight of the
pleasant vale of Enna, in which she had always dwelt. Another instant,
and even the summit of Mount AEtna had become so blue in the distance
that she could scarcely distinguish it from the smoke that gushed out of
its crater. But still the poor child screamed and scattered her apron
full of flowers along the way, and left a long cry trailing behind
the chariot; and many mothers, to whose ears it came, ran quickly to see
if any mischief had befallen their children. But Mother Ceres was a
great way off, and could not hear the cry.
As they rode on, the stranger did his best to soothe her.
"Why should you be so frightened, my pretty child?" said he, trying to
soften his rough voice. "I promise not to do you any harm. What! You
have been gathering flowers? Wait till we come to my palace, and I will
give you a garden full of prettier flowers than those, all made of
pearls, and diamonds, and rubies.
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