he bent over the grim face of the expiring beast, and that drops of blood were slowly trickling from a wound in his hand into Iarine's pitcher, which he held up to receive them. So intent was he on this occupation, and on gazing at the panther, that he had not perceived the approach of his rival, who, stung with jealousy at what he beheld, and with remembrance of what the Flower Spirit had uttered, stood a little way off, eyeing him with fiery looks, and brandishing his stainless weapon, without knowing exactly in what terms to couch an accusation, or how to challenge one who was already wounded in combat. While he yet hesitated, the prince was struck by the sound of Leucoia's voice, crying "Karadan!" The maiden had heard her brother wind the horn, and, knowing by that signal that the beast was slain, she came flitting through the forest to the place of the encounter. Phantasmion gave up all thoughts of seeking a quarrel with Karadan when he saw his sister approach he withdrew behind the broad trunk of a tree, and soon afterwards beheld Leucoia binding up her brother's wound with strips torn from her own garment, while the dogs leaped around fawning on the maiden, as if rejoiced at the aid that she rendered to their master. The lady's milk-white stag, fearless of the hounds, with which he had long been familiar, stood beside the bloody pard, and was the only one of the group who seemed to espy Phantasmion, as he lingered among the overarching trees of thickest foliage. "Karadan loves Iarine,"

were the words that rang in the prince's ear, as he retraced his steps through the forest; and, without re-entering Magnart's abode, he forthwith departed to find that of Penselimer, king of Almaterra.

CHAPTER XIII.

PENSELIMER TELLS HIS STORY TO PHANTASMION.

PHANTASMION pursued his journey for several days in that rich land, travelling by leaps, whenever he could do so without attracting the gaze of the rustics, and taking refreshments in the humblest dwellings. He found that the peasant folks in general were quite unacquainted with the person of their king, though they had many strange tales to tell respecting him; but all the certain information in these matters which the prince gained, was, that he lived in retirement with Laona, the mother of Arzene and Anthemmina, the affairs of his kingdom being managed by Sanio, a wise and worthy man, who had been the friend of his father. The prince pursued his way, according to the directions he had received, till he found that blossomed orchards, gardens, and gay buildings, began to be less and less frequent, and it seemed as if, from the land of summer, he had stepped into November's dreary domain. At length he entered a tract which was full of fading flowers and trees, clad in the garb of autumn, and thence proceeded to a bleak and barren moor, where cold swamps, rocks encrusted with ashy pale lichens, or fringed with rustling fern, and twisted uncouth trunks, that looked like mummies of trees as they reclined in sepulchral cavities, were the only features of the stern landscape. One light-coloured

object appeared in view just beneath a company of gaunt pine trees that straggled over a stony slope; this was a forlorn mountain ash, with foliage of transparent brightness. The wind came by fits, whistling through the pine grove, and, whenever it shook the fragile ash, a shower of yellow leaves fell from its delicate branches on the steely pool below. Those stagnant waters were agitated by the rough gale, and foaming waves for a moment were visible; then again, relapsing into torpor, they sullenly reflected the sullen sky and the wasting roan tree. Streaks of dull clouds covered great part of the heavens, but, just where the sun was sinking on the horizon, they showed a spectral whiteness, edged with faintest yellow and sea green. In the opposite quarter, the moon appeared like a wan face gradually kindling into life; she looked out from the sky in full splendour while Phantasmion was yet on his way; and, when he saw her beams resting on an ancient castle, surrounded by a moat and a high and thick wall, he knew that he beheld the domain of Penselimer. Arrived at the edge of the moat, he surveyed the barrier before him, and, having taken a good aim, leaped to the top of it, gained a sure footing on the wall, and waved his sword to an ancient domestic, who had espied him from a court-yard below. The old man gazed in astonishment at the youthful figure on the horizon, with nodding plume and glancing sword illumined by the moon-beams. Phantasmion proceeded along the top of the wall, looking down upon groves of cypresses and glistering laurels, till he came over-against a wide lawn which fronted the castle. Down into this grassy plain he leaped, and beheld straight before him an ancient yew tree which rose about the

G

centre of it, casting a gigantic shadow on the moonlit sward. As the prince passed under this tree on his way to the castle, he perceived that a tall man, habited in a long black stole, was leaning over one of its broad arms, and looking from amid its dusky foliage, at the star bright sky. Just then a thin vapour was flitting across the moon; but soon Phantasmion beheld the side of the gazer's face in a clear light, and was struck with the majesty of his features, and the placid melancholy of their expression. He stood still, feeling assured that this was Penselimer, and considering how to proceed; when the man in the mourning robe turned round, and, having scanned his face, exclaimed reproachfully, "Ha! Dorimant; art thou come to render up the silver pitcher ?" Phantasmion, who had been continually thinking of Iarine's silver pitcher ever since he first saw it in the hands of his rival, was too much struck with these words to make a prompt reply; but the lofty personage before him pointed to the moon: "Thou art come,' said he, "from visiting the lady Anthemmina !" "King Penselimer," cried Phantasmion, a little confused, "I come from Palmland." "It is false," rejoined the monarch, in a tone of solemn indignation; "with my own eyes I saw thee descend from the sky, and alight on the hither side of those fir trees!" Then again he gazed upward at the moon: "I had been pleading with her all this evening," said he; "she was still silent and obdurate; she would not promise to restore the silver pitcher, but now I trust she has sent it by thy hand." "Noble Penselimer," cried the youth impetuously, "I know not what thou meanest by pointing to the sky, and speaking of a silver pitcher.' "And perchance," rejoined the

king, with a disdainful smile, " thou dost not behold the fair Anthemmina in heaven, and perchance she too will deny that she is at this moment looking down upon thee and me.' King Penselimer," said Phantasmion, who now began to understand why the sovereign of Almaterra lived in retirement, "I see that fair dispenser of light as plainly as thou dost, and true it is that she has guided me to thy abode; but the lady Anthemmina I never beheld while she sojourned upon earth." "Art thou not mine enemy, Dorimant?" inquired the king earnestly, perusing the features of his youthful visitant. "Dorimant, king of Palmland, sleeps with his ancestors," replied the youth; "I know not why thou callest him thine enemy, nor how he can have injured thee concerning a silver pitcher?" "Ha, indeed!" said Penselimer," then I will tell thee the whole story of my wrongs! But not here," he added, in a low voice, casting up his eyes to the moon, "lest she should hear the tale it is my belief she often listens when shame or pride forbids her to reply." Then he moved away, and beckoned to Phantasmion, who followed him, as he strode across the loan, thinking of Iarine with the silver pitcher on her head, and Karadan pressing it to his bosom, and how the fishy woman by the sea-shore, and the bright fairy in the wood had both spoken of a charmed vessel. Penselimer conducted the youth to an apartment in the castle, where a fire upon the hearth cast its light on the walls, hung with dark paintings, and on a harp and other musical instruments which were scattered around. The king of Almaterra made Phantasmion take a seat opposite to one which he himself occupied, and began to speak thus: "There was a time when the beautiful