“That’s good. The green ship sailed through the waves for a long time, and day by day, the little queen and the rose girl became colder. The wind was bringing snow now, real snow.
“‘Your roses are already starting to wilt,’ the sea lion said to the rose girl. ‘Not only where I tore them but everywhere else on your body, too. They will wither. And you will freeze in the cold wind.’
“But the rose girl wasn’t the only one to feel the cold. Mrs. Margaret and the little queen were shivering, too, now that they were standing on deck.
“‘Maybe it’s the black ship,’ the little queen said. ‘It brings the cold with it! It comes closer and closer without ever reaching us. Isn’t that weird? I almost wish it were here and something would happen at last!’
“‘Something is happening,’ the sea lion said, lifting his head out of the waves as far as he could. ‘Look there! There’s the next island.’
“‘It’s all covered in snow,’ the rose girl said. But she was mistaken.
“A little later, they anchored the ship, and there on the shore of the island stood an information board.
“‘Island of the Blind White Cats,’ read the lighthouse keeper, and he scratched his head with his glasses. ‘It is forbidden for strangers to hum ashore.’
“‘That’s a spelling mistake,’ the rose girl said. ‘They must have meant that strangers are forbidden to come ashore.’
“The little queen began to hum a tune, the first one that came into her head, just to test things out. And, instantly, a white cat appeared and came racing toward her like a living snowball, shouting, ‘Quiet! It’s forbidden to hum ashore! Can’t you read? You’re startling our weavers and spinstresses, and that leads to the most awful mistakes in the fabrics they’re producing.’
“The little queen and her friends followed the white cat inland, where many white cats were sitting at spinning wheels and handlooms, or, in their case, paw looms. They seemed to have been spinning threads and weaving fabric all day long. The threads were made out of their own white fur, which clearly grew rapidly. But because the white cats were blind, they couldn’t see where their pieces of fabric began and where they should have ended. They just spun and wove, on and on. The white layers covered the whole island, poured into the sea, and floated on the waves in huge white drifts.
“‘Oh, could you spare some of that lovely white material?’ the little queen asked excitedly. ‘Just a little bit, so that we can make a few warm clothes?’
“‘Well, you’ll have to pay for it, of course,’ one of the cats said.
“‘Our fabric is the best and most durable,’ another of them added.
“‘It protects against the rain, snow, and fire,’ a third one remarked.
“‘Everything has its price,’ all three said.
“‘Oh, but we don’t have anything we could give to you,’ the little queen sighed. ‘You see, our clothes aren’t made for the icy winter here. Don’t you see how urgently we need your fabric?’
“‘How could we see that?’ an elderly cat asked crankily. ‘We are blind. Visitors tell us our fabric is beautiful, though. They say that if you look at it for a long time, rainbows spring from its folds. But we have never seen that ourselves.’
“‘Oh, you poor creatures!’ the little queen exclaimed.
“They sat down to take a closer look at the fabric that covered the island; and, indeed, after a while, a rainbow shot up in front of them, gleaming and sparkling in all the colors of the world. A second one followed, and then a third. The rainbows began to swirl into each other, as if they were threads themselves. They danced and spun around; they formed spirals and knots up there, in the clear, cold winter air—blue, green, yellow, orange, pink, red, violet—and everyone got a bit dizzy looking at them.
“‘How beautiful!’ the little queen said finally. ‘Isn’t it so sad the cats are blind?’
“‘Glasses,’ the lighthouse keeper murmured. ‘Maybe they aren’t blind after all; maybe glasses are all they need. I left my own glasses on the ship …’
“‘I’ll go and get them!’ the little queen said. She picked up one of the white cats to carry it with her, for the cats looked so soft and nice, but the cat complained. ‘Come on, you can warm my hands till we reach the ship,’ the little queen said. ‘Like a muff made of white fur.’
“‘If you insist,’ the cat said begrudgingly.
“On the beach, the silver-gray dog with the golden eyes was pacing to and fro nervously.
“‘Just imagine … this fabric can create rainbows!’ the little queen shouted, out of breath. ‘Oh, if only we had clothes made of such fabric!’
“The silver-gray dog just growled. ‘Don’t put that fabric on,’ he said. ‘Little queen, don’t do it! Ever! Whoever wears that cloth sees nothing but rainbows and forgets about danger!’
“‘Oh, you! You just don’t like anything!’ the little queen said. ‘Think of the rose girl … you wanted to bite her when she first joined us!’
“‘I will go and see what the others are doing,’ the silver-gray dog snarled. ‘So we don’t lose them to rainbows.’
“The little queen climbed aboard the ship and put the cat down on the deck, where it curled into a ball on the planks and fell asleep instantly. She looked for the lighthouse keeper’s glasses everywhere, but she couldn’t find them. At last, when she was on her knees searching under one of the benches, someone knocked on the rail very politely. The little queen looked up, and there was a man there, clad from head to toe in glittering white fabric.
“‘Come aboard,’ the little queen said. ‘Is it true that one sees only rainbows when one is wearing that fabric?’
“The man didn’t answer. He plopped down on the bench. ‘Oh, little queen,’ he said. ‘I am so tired! I have come far, far across the water, just to see you.’
“‘To see me?’ the little queen repeated, surprised.
“At that moment, the man reached out and grabbed her, pulling her closer. His grip was strong. The little queen gave a cry of fear and pain. Only now did she see that the man had a blond mustache.
“‘Your diamond heart is more beautiful than all the rainbows in the world,’ he whispered. ‘And it is mine, rightfully mine. For you owe your very existence to me. I am your father.’ His white gown slid to the floor; the little queen saw the blood-red coat he was wearing beneath. And the next second, the red hunter lifted her up, as if she weighed no more than a sheet of paper. But then he stepped on a rose branch the rose girl had lost, and thorns pricked through the sole of his boot. He lost his balance and fell, swearing loudly.
“When he sat up, the little queen saw the silver-gray dog racing toward the ship. The rose girl and the lighthouse keeper were behind him. The red hunter stood up. He had let go of the little queen as he fell, and now she fled into the cabin and slammed the door. Then, there was a terrible noise from outside, on the ship’s deck. Some things fell down, and wood splintered; she heard the heavy breathing of two people and pressed Mrs. Margaret to her breast.
“Finally, she glanced through a crack in the wood of the cabin door. Outside, two bodies were rolling over the planks between toppled-over benches and torn sails. It wasn’t a dog that was fighting with the red hunter. It was a wolf. A big gray wolf. The red hunter sprang to his feet and swung his rapier, from which he cast dangerous, glowing sparkles.
“‘Oh, my sea lion, my dog, my wolf!’ the little queen whispered. ‘He will kill you!’
“But she couldn’t do anything; she was too frightened. And she felt very ashamed of herself.
“She saw that the wolf’s fur was dark with blood in some places. Then the wolf collapsed and lay on the floor very still. The red hunter put his rapier away. He kicked the wolf with his boot one last time, stepped over it, and walked to the rail. Caressing the wood, he smiled contentedly. ‘This could be my ship,’ he said. ‘I will not sail her, though. She is too green. I will take nothing from here but the little queen’s heart. I will cut it from her body with my rapier …’