I see thee now," replied the king, fixing his pensive eyes on the sprightly maid; " and methought she drew a white violet from her bosom." "Ah, my sister's flower!" the lady cried; "mine eyes must have been dimmed with tears. I only heard her voice. And said she not that a spirit of the wood protects Leucoia, and that this same spirit lent her power to raise the sylvan phantom that brought thee to my aid ?" Methought so," the king replied; "but, lady, let me place thee on thy steed, or the sun will reach his journey's end while we are delaying ours." Then they all rose to depart, and, after bidding farewell to the friendly fisherman, Phantasmion rode with Zelneth and Penselimer toward the mansion of Magnart, relating his adventures in the Sunless Valley by the way. CHAPTER XXXV. PHANTASMION MEETS A NUMEROUS COMPANY AT THE MANSION OF MAGNART. MEANWHILE Arzene and her train were hastening homewards with fair Leucoia, whose snow-white stag tripped on in front of the company, as if delighted to carry a rider that so befitted his own graceful form. At times the maid turned to exchange smiles with Arzene, and see what watchful eyes were ever bent on her, then she flew forward again, surveying with new delight the vale of Polyanthida, and every object brightened by the beams of day. At last her father's mansion came in sight, and the damsel bounded on, waving aloft a white mantle, and casting up her eyes to a little mount within the walls, where her young brothers and sisters were assembled to watch the advancing company. Thus she approached the principal entrance, while the children were skipping down the hill, and beheld, not far from the gateway, an ancient woman seated in a car, to which leopards were harnessed. The heads of the beasts were held by a youth, who had himself somewhat of a wild and sylvan air, but not unmixed with gentleness and lofty grace. He was listening to the words of a dwarf, who stood in front of the car, and grasped the reins with his left hand, while with his right he pointed at Leucoia. But when the damsel's fair stag came nigh the leopards, he started, and rushed through the open gate by which the children had passed to meet Arzene. The youth stepped forward, but could not overtake the fugitive till he had reached the top of that woody hillock which overlooked the road. There, holding the reins of her sylvan steed, he told the lady that his name was Ulander, that he had come to Polyanthida under the guidance of his sage kinswoman Malderyl in search of her lovely sister Zelneth, whom he sought in marriage, and who had been carried away from his forest realm just when he hoped she would become his bride. "Tell me now," cried he, looking out over the road with glowing cheek, “is not that my betrothed lady who comes in front of the troop?" "A betrothed lady comes there, but not thine, I think," replied Leucoia, with a pitying smile. no, I cannot be deceived!” exclaimed the lover; “what damsel rides with such youthful spirit, such queenly grace, as my fair Zelneth? O yes! and surely that is Phantasmion of Palmland who comes on before!" Ulander cast his sparkling eyes upon Leucoia's face, and marked its pensive air. "But who is he that keeps by the side of Zelneth?" the chieftain next inquired. "That is the king of this country," she answered. "And wherefore comes he to Polyanthida?" asked the youth. "To celebrate his nuptials, as I guess," Leucoia made reply. Ulander smiled when he beheld her blushing cheek, and asked in a courteous whisper if she were to be the bride. "O no!" she answered; "Penselimer seeks the hand of Zelneth, who had indeed betrothed herself to him, as I can witness, before she went to seek for me in thy far country." Struck by these unexpected tidings, Ulander dropped 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 :— "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, |