Ulander, and had been sent by the Tigridian queen to work his ruin. This discourse inspired him with fresh desire to encounter his foes, and fresh hope that he should prevail against them ere long, by Valhorga's aid. The Spirit of the Storm he feared not. "Anthemmina's dying day," thought he, "is long since past, and her vow to serve Glandreth must have expired." With a joyful heart he quitted that sapphirine sky, and pursued another dark winding passage, till it led him up into the light of day. When he emerged, the sun was shining in meridian splendour, and he found himself in the midst of Penselimer's army, with the numerous bands of Gemmaurians and fugitives from Palmland, who had flocked around him. They had assembled on the sandy tract, and were greatly at a loss to know what had become of the young monarch, scouts having been sent on all sides to look for him in vain. Great was the astonishment of Penselimer when he beheld the earth gape a little way from the place where he stood, and Phantasmion come forth in helmet, shield, and breastplate of diamonds, which sparkled like icicles in the sunshine, though not to be melted by the hottest ray. This jewelled armour,” cried the king of Palmland, "is a pledge from Valhorga, the Spirit of the Earth soon it shall be exchanged for a more serviceable suit, and every soldier of our numerous host Let us march shall receive the same harness as myself. to the volcanic mountain of Tigridia, there to be equipped for battle and victory." Acclamations rent the sky, after the silence of amazement which his first reappearance occasioned: Phantasmion showed himself to his whole army in his brilliant array, so that all were inspired with confidence, and eager to start for the mountain of Malderyl. Phantasmion delayed their march, while he interred his mother's remains, with the body of her faithful guardian, in a secret but honoured grave those rites performed, the united armies set forth on their distant expedition. CHAPTER XXXIX. ARZENE WANDERS IN SEARCH OF KARADAN TO A BAY, WHENCE HE HAS JUST SET SAIL WITH IARINE. "THE spring returns, and balmy budding flow'rs When pleasures were as bright and fresh, though brief, But now when kingcups ope their golden eyes, And rival tints that little cheek illume Dear boy! thou art thy mother's vernal flow'r, By bringing buds and fresh delights for thee." WITH tearful eyes Arzene murmured this song, and seemed to see the childish form of Karadan sporting No one gave before her, as when she sang it first. tidings of her son at the hamlet where she had spent the night, but the goatherd had expressed a belief, from inquiries which the youth made, that he and his fair companion were bound for the Tigridian coast, and thither she directed her steps. At mid-day she entered a sunny field, where the reapers were busy at work, and women were binding sheaves. There she sate below the U 4 shady fence to rest, and saw a little boy collecting corn poppies, which the sickle had cut down, while his sister was busy in gathering the scattered ears. "Idle child!" cried the laden girl, "what hast thou gleaned, I pray? will those gaudy flowers make bread?" "Bread for bees!" replied the urchin. 'If thou art a busy bee, thou canst make bread of flowers." So saying, with a laugh, he flung his posy at the chider's face, and a shower of the profitless blossoms fell down into her armful of corn. Arzene thought of her own playful Hermillian and young Arimel, who loved to forestall womanhood, and step into her mother's place, till the golden crop and the bending groups swam through her tears, and, starting from her seat, she resolved forthwith to seek no more for him who scorned her anxious love, but return to her other children. In this mind she turned. her face from the village, whither she had intended to proceed, and, having partaken of the reapers' fare, which they charitably offered, she travelled on in another direction till the day was far spent. Then, sitting down again to rest, she heard the wind sigh dolefully, and saw the black shadow of a tree on a smooth green slope wave slowly up and down. Arzene was thinking with deep sorrow of her truant son, and now she seemed to hear his voice, and to see his image reproaching her change of purpose. She arose, and again resolved to seek along the coast for Karadan. Scarce hoping to reach the sea that night, she journeyed, however, towards it, till she entered a field that was bathed in the clear melancholy sunshine, and contained a clump of dark holm oaks, about which a rivulet wound like a silver chain. Just across that brook, a shepherdess was sitting, while her flocks nibbled the green grass on its margin. Arzene would scarce have seen her among the trees, but the notes of her song, while the words were inaudible, came across the field to her ear, and she went up to the place where the maiden sate, with the intention of begging a shelter for that night. "Go on with thy sweet song," said Arzene, courteously, when the damsel rose at her approach: "I will sit beside thee on this fallen log." The shepherdess renewed her melody, and these were the words of her song: Full oft before some gorgeous fane The youngling heifer bleeds and dies; The mother wanders all around, Through shadowy grove and lightsome glade; The stall where late her darling lay In restless movements wastes the day, She roams along the willowy copse, No youthful kine, though fresh and fair, |