with redoubled brightness, and cast his many-coloured radiance on the expanded wings and arched necks of the swans, while on before and around the gliding boat all was black shadow, save where the fire-flies made a golden line in the dark wave, or, soaring up, illumined the roof of the vault, enkindling many a sparry rock, which never reflected one bright ray before. At last the damsel's now unwonted eyes were smitten by a faint sunbeam; the birds moved with renewed vigour, hastening toward the genial light, and soon a picture, delicate and minute from distance, presented itself to the eyes of the voyagers, who once more beheld the varied green of trees opposed to the deep blue of the sky, and all the landscape bathed in golden radiance. Melledine seemed blasted by the sight, and crouched with her face to the stern, closely wrapped in her veil. Meantime the halo which surrounded Phantasmion faded away, and his wings disappeared: but heedless of the change he sate, gazing into the stream, while the swans lowered their expanded sails, and Leucoia leaped ashore, with her white stag; for once more he beheld his watery image with that of a damsel holding up a pitcher before her face. And now for the first time he observed, in the faint background of the picture, a prostrate form, with the aspect of one dying or dead. "Why renew this vision?" said he to the enchantress, pulling her chain; "whom wouldst thou now delude?" The prisoner replied that what had deceived Anthemmina was no work of hers, but produced by a spirit of the waters, who had the faculty of fore-showing future scenes. While she yet spoke it faded away; all quitted the skiff, and, at a signal from Melledine, the swans disappeared under the darksome vault. CHAPTER XXXIV. PHANTASMION HEARS THE SECOND PART OF PENSELIMER'S STORY. POTENTILLA bade Phantasmion follow the stream that flowed from Melledine's domain till it entered a large river. There," said she, "thou shalt find one who will convey thee and thy company to a dell not far from Leucoia's home. Offer the gem that clasps thy sleeve to the boatman, and he will receive you all without delay." Then her form changed, and he knew not if she were gone, or still flitted around him among the gilded flies and feathery gnats that hummed in the sunshine. As they proceeded, Phantasmion heard the rocks resound from a distance, above the murmur of the brook, the course of which they were following: sometimes he thought they rang Anthemmina's knell with melancholy falls, and then again their merry tinkling chime seemed fitter to express the happiest espousals. Soon after those sounds ceased to be audible, having arrived where the waters met, and espied an old man in a boat, he plucked the jewel from his sleeve, and ran toward him holding it up to sparkle in the rays of the sun. On a nearer view he saw that the conductor provided by his guardian Fairy was no other than the ancient fisherman of the Black Lake, who clasped his hands for joy as soon as he knew the prince. "The messenger might have told thy name," he cried, "instead of offering hire." "What messenger?" inquired the youth. "She with bright wings," he answered, "who met me in the watery dell, and bade me hasten hither with this boat. Was it not on thy account she promised that I should win by the journey more than my fish had ever earned in Polyanthida? or was it all a dream ?” Phantasmion replied that, if it were, he had dreamed to a good purpose, and, having placed his companions in the vessel, he took an oar, and seated himself beside the fisherman, who felt right glad to see him turn the boat, and begin rowing down the stream. They made great way with little effort, the full tide bearing them so rapidly forward, that the rich meads of Almaterra flew by like dreams, while each new scene had carried its colours into the next, ere the eye had time to distinguish it. Now and then they came to land for refreshment, and added the juicy fruits of the river side to their other provisions: such delays Phantasmion yielded to courtesy, though but ill pleased to see the stream run by his idle boat, Nor did Leucoia wish to linger long upon the way, for she had now resolved on following her sister to the chieftain's palace, if her mother's consent could be gained; and the more her heart reproached her with Zelneth's wound, and Arzene's anguish, the less she felt the pangs of unrequited love. It was now the end of the third day, and night hung over the voyagers: white moths, flitting by, reflected feeble gleams of light at intervals, and once the eyes of the wild cat glared amid branches that deepened the darkness of the waters by their shade. Leucoia slept with a tear on her cheek, lulled by the chant of nightingales; Melledine lay still, and heaved no breath; Phantasmion rowed on in silence, while the old man, from whose failing hand he had taken the oar slumbered heavily at his feet. He was thinking whether Potentilla still watched over him, when a ring of fire-flies suddenly encircled the black visage of the enchantress, and revealed the workings of her sullen face. In a few moments they rose with shrouded light, and a well known voice was heard to sing thus: What means that darkly-working brow, Melledine? Whose heart-stings art thou wresting now, Melledine ? The dearest pleasure follows pain, And for thyself hast forged the chain, "Those gauzy wings!" muttered the fisherman, disturbed, but not awakened, by the fairy's shrill pipe. He slept in peace, while she thus proceeded in a softer tone: Ah, dream of sullen skies no more, Sad Leucoia ! The roughest ocean hath a shore, Sweet Leucoia ! A stedfast shore the billows kiss, Young Leucoia ! By daybreak the vessel was gliding near a field, which the river all but surrounded. Bright green was that field, sun-bright its liquid fence, and brightly shone its groups of giant lilies, their glossy leaves full fed with moisture, their painted petals vying with the painted insect, which seemed in rivalry to rest its wings beside them. Round this fair semi-isle Phantasmion steered his boat, and saw that just beyond its farthest angle a narrower stream, which flowed beneath high woody banks, joined company with the river, losing itself in the stronger current as childhood steals imperceptibly into vigorous youth. Guessing that this new comer issued from the lake near Magnart's mansion, he concluded that here was the place to which the fairy had directed him, and was preparing to land on the meadow when his ear caught the melody of a harp, floating along the hidden course of the tributary stream. The sounds approached quickly from a distance, and now were interpreted by the varying tones of a voice, which it seemed to him that he had formerly heard with the same accompaniment. He fixed his eye on the spot where the rivers met, and soon beheld a skiff, with silken streamer, glide from among the trees. It made for the meadow, and, when he had ascertained by whom it was occupied, he took up the oars, and, having awakened the fisherman, began to look about for a landing place. Leucoia still lay fast asleep, with her head towards the prow; she had been dreaming of Zelneth, and seemed to roam in search of her through tangled wilds; but, when the sounds of the harp came thrilling across the waters, they wrought new images into the dream. That kingly portrait, once her sister's idol, appeared to gleam upon her lonesome path; but, when she stooped towards it, |