CHAPTER XVII.

PHANTASMION MEETS WITH IARINE AND ALBINET ON THE BANKS OF THE BLACK LAKE.

PHANTASMION again sought an interview with the fairy, and told her that he desired above all things to win the heart of Iarine, and to confound his enemy Glandreth. Potentilla replied, "Go then to the Black Lake, offer thyself as cup-bearer to Queen Maudra, and with my aid thou shalt accomplish both these projects." Having spoken thus she turned to the bough of a plane tree, where a cicada was pertinaciously chirping, as if it would bear a part in the discourse. She touched the insect, and it gradually expanded to a vast magnitude, while the sound of its drum grew rapidly louder and louder, till at last it seemed about to split, with its vibrations, the broad trunk and stout arms of the tree on which it stood. Phantasmion exclaimed, "With such an instrument as this I might roam at night through the forests, and make the wild beasts fly on all sides." "Ay," replied Potentilla, "and with an instrument like this thou shalt terrify the soul of Glandreth; for I will whisper such a warning in his ear that when he hears that sound, he shall believe his last hour to be at hand.' Phantasmion embraced the fairy's scheme with ardour, feeling confident that he should not fail in executing his part of it. Potentilla placed the drum in the fore

part of his body, and showed him by what slight imperceptible motions he might draw forth the full powers of the instrument; then, removing her wand to his shoulders, she endued them with wings that might be closely folded down lengthwise, and concealed beneath his loose upper vest.

Having entrusted the affairs of his kingdom to the brother of Cyradis, and the royal scion to that of his ancient nurse, he attired himself in garments denoting the office he meant to assume; they were embroidered at the edge with green vine leaves and clusters of purple grapes. Thus equipped he set forth, flying many a league till he reached the valley of the Black Lake, and stayed to rest on a large tree where he was hidden by the abundant foliage. When he arrived at this station, the King's Island, and the whole sheet of water in which it stood, was wrapped in a thick fog, only the edge of the lake being visible beyond the vapoury curtain, like a rim of lurid steel. Phantasmion looked out

from amid the boughs, and, after a time, began to perceive a small ghost-like vessel advancing through the mist. It contained two figures, faint and shadowy, a young boy moving the oars, and, standing beside him, a damsel clad in white robes, and wearing a crown of star-shaped azure lilies, which gleamed within the misty veil. Slowly the boat made way, gradually the figures grew in distinctness, and, as the lake looked clearer, and the radiant face of Iarine came closer, it seemed to the prince that she, and not the dull red orb on high, was pouring brightness through the sullen mist. Young Albinet, now weary of his task, resigned the oars : skilfully the maiden drew the boat to land, then leaping

on the shore she held up both her arms of gleaming whiteness, and lifted the lame child out of the boat. "Sister," said the boy, "thou wast kind to come with me when nobody else would venture out. The finest summer days often begin thus. Let us sit down here and see the white curtain draw up from the lake.” Iarine seated herself beside young Albinet on a bank below the tree where Phantasmion was concealed, and soon the child began to amuse himself with plucking purple flags, and sticking the blossoms all about her dress, and here and there amid the labyrinth of her locks. Now he would lift up those tresses, and spread them abroad in the faint sunshine, till they glittered like a tissue of golden threads, now heap them together in full masses, which looked as deep and mellow as rich wine in the cask. "Sister," said the child, "why wilt thou always wear those cold blue water lilies ? Red and yellow flowers are livelier than blue ones." 'I love them because my mother loved them," said Iarine. "Dost thou think she wears such a crown as this now?" said Albinet, softly, looking up at the sky. 66 The flowers she wears," replied the maiden, "are such as will never fade." "Heaven must be very full of flowers," cried he, "if new ones come and yet the old ones never go away. I hope it is not like that picture of a sunny garden which never changes; I hope there are half opened buds in heaven, Iarine, and merry milk white lambs." "Heaven is happiness," the maid replied; "all that can make us happy we shall meet with there." "I wish," said Albinet, with a sigh, "that we could get thither without going down into the dark grave. Is there no lightsome road to heaven, up in the open air?"

" said Iarine,

My mother never went into the grave; "she was buried in the waves of the sea. "O, from

the sea," said Albinet, "it must be easy enough to
climb up into the sky, for I myself have marked the
very place where it meets the water. When this fog
clears away, if I could get to the top of that tree, and
look intently, perchance I might descry some very
minute trace of the beginning of heaven. Dear Iarine,
these are no heavenly flowers, for they are drooping
already I will throw them into the lake to send away
the fog." So saying, he pulled the chaplet from his
sister's brow, and flung it into the water, when a large
dark bird suddenly rose from one of the craggy islets,
and rushed onward, appearing vast and indistinct as it
loomed through the mist. Albinet shrieked aloud, and
fell upon the ground writhing; Iarine hung over him
tenderly, and, when he recovered, she pointed to the
dark bird, which now stood on the shore in full view.
"There is the goblin," she said; "no goblins but such
as that will ever come near thee and me.' The pale
boy smiled, and, hiding his face in his sister's lap,
entreated her to soothe him for a while with one of her
soft melodies, and, while the fog was rapidly dispersing,
she
sang words like these :-

How gladsome is a child, and how perfect is his mirth,
How brilliant to his eye are the daylight shows of earth!
But Oh! how black and strange are the shadows in his sight,
What phantoms hover round him in the darkness of the night!

Away, ye gloomy visions, I charge ye hence away,
Nor scare the simple heart that without ye were so gay ;
Alas! when you are gone with all your ghastly crew,
What sights of glowing splendour will fade away with you!

He'll see the gloomy sky, and know 'tis here decreed,

That sunshine follow every storm, and light to shade succeed,
No more he'll dread the tempest, nor tremble in the dark,
Nor soar on wings of fancy far beyond the soaring lark.

I love thee, little brother, when smiles are on thy face,
I love thy eager merriment, thy never failing grace:
But when the shadow darkens thee and chills thy timid breast,
I'd watch from eve till day-break that thou might'st be at rest.

"I dreamt that we were in the grave," said Albinet, roused by his sister from sobbing sleep; "and I began to cry but, behold, it was only a passage, and there was light at the other end." "What have we to do with the grave?" said Iarine, in a sprightly tone: "we can never be laid under ground, only our worn garments. The earth is nature's wardrobe; for out of it every living thing and every tree and plant receive apparel. Ere we go hence we must replace our garments in the great receptacle, that the old materials may serve to make new clothes for other creatures." Albinet looked at his pining limb: "I will have finer clothes than these in heaven," he said, "and such as fit me better." "Think of our garden favourite," said the maid again; "when the streaked petals and shining leaves and upright stem all disappeared, was the dear lily dead?" 'No, no,' she might have cried from under ground, though all you ever saw me has gone to dust, yet I am still alive, and soon shall have fresh raiment fit to appear in; unless the spring proves faithless."" Albinet clasped his sister's hand joyfully: "We too shall be fresh clothed," he cried, "and better clothed, because our spring will be in a far finer soil and climate. Ha, ha! who knows but these bodies of ours may be the bulbs out of which our