in all directions. It was now quite late, and there was no moon.
"'I must go home,' said the princess. 'I am very sorry, for this is delightful.'
"'So am I,' responded the prince. 'But I am glad I haven't a home to go to—at least, I don't exactly know where it is.'
"'I wish I hadn't one either,' rejoined the princess; 'it is so stupid! I have a great mind,' she continued, 'to play them all a trick. Why couldn't they leave me alone? They won't trust me in the lake for a single night! You see where that green light is burning? That is the window of my room. Now if you would just swim there with me very quietly, and when we are all but under the balcony, give me such a push—up you call it—as you did a little while ago, I should be able to catch hold of the balcony, and get in at the window; and then they may look for me till to-morrow morning!'
"'With more obedience than pleasure,' said the prince, gallantly; and away they swam, very gently.
"'Will you be in the lake to-morrow-night?' the prince ventured to ask.
"'To be sure I will. I don't think so. Perhaps,'—was the princess's somewhat strange answer.
"But the prince was intelligent enough not to press her further; and merely whispered, as he gave her the parting lift: 'Don't tell.' The only answer the princess returned was a roguish look. She was already a yard above his head. The look seemed to say: 'Never fear. It is too good fun to spoil that way.'
"So perfectly like other people had she been in the water, that even yet the prince could scarcely believe his eyes when he saw her ascend slowly, grasp the balcony, and disappear through the window. He turned, almost expecting to see her still by his side. But he was alone in the water. So he swam away quietly, and watched the lights roving about the shore for hours after the princess was safe in her chamber. As soon as they disappeared, he landed in search of his tunic and sword, and, after some trouble, found them again. Then he made the best of his way round the lake to the other side. There the wood was wilder, and the shore steeper—rising more immediately towards the mountains which surrounded the lake on all sides, and kept sending it messages of silvery streams from morning to night, and all night long. He soon found a spot whence he could see the green light in the princess's room, and where, even in the broad daylight, he would be in no danger of being discovered from the opposite shore. It was a sort of cave in the rock, where he provided himself a bed of withered leaves, and lay down too tired for hunger to keep him awake. All night long he dreamed that he was swimming with the princess."
"All that is very improper—to my mind," said Mrs. Cathcart. And she glanced towards the place where Percy had deposited himself, as if she were afraid of her boy's morals.
But if she was anxious on that score, her fears must have been dispersed the same moment by an indubitable snore from the youth, who was in his favourite position—lying at full length on a couch.
"You must remember all this is in Fairyland, aunt," said Adela, with a smile. "Nobody does what papa and mamma would not like here. We must not judge the people in fairy tales by precisely the same conventionalities we have. They must be good after their own fashion."
"Conventionalities! Humph!" said Mrs. Cathcart.
"Besides, I don't think the princess was quite accountable," said I.
"You should have made her so, then," rejoined my critic.
"Oh! wait a little, madam," I replied.
"I think," said the clergyman, "that Miss Cathcart's defence is very tolerably sufficient; and, in my character of Master of the Ceremonies, I order Mr. Smith to proceed."
I made haste to do so, before Mrs. Cathcart should open a new battery.
* * * * *
"CHAPTER X.—LOOK AT THE MOON.
"Early the next morning, the prince set out to look for something to eat, which he soon found at a forester's hut, where for many following days he was supplied with all that a brave prince could consider necessary. And having plenty to keep him alive for the present, he would not think of wants not yet in existence. Whenever Care intruded, this prince always bowed him out in the most princely manner.
"When he returned from his breakfast to his watch-cave, he saw the princess already floating about in the lake, attended by the king and queen—whom he knew by their crowns—and a great company in lovely little boats, with canopies of all the colours of the rainbow, and flags and streamers of a great many more. It was a very bright day, and soon the prince, burned up with the heat, began to long for the water and the cool princess. But he had to endure till the twilight; for the boats had provisions on board, and it was not till the sun went down, that the gay party began to vanish. Boat after boat drew away to the shore, following that of the king and queen, till only one, apparently the princess's own boat, remained. But she did not want to go home even yet, and the prince thought he saw her order the boat to the shore without her. At all events, it rowed away; and now, of all the radiant company, only one white speck remained. Then the prince began to sing.
"And this was what he sang:
"'Lady fair,
Swan-white,
Lift thine eyes,
Banish night
By the might
Of thine eyes.
Snowy arms,
Oars of snow,
Oar her hither,
Plashing low
Soft and slow,
Oar her hither.
Stream behind her
O'er the lake,
Radiant whiteness!
In her wake
Following, following for her sake,
Radiant whiteness!
Cling about her,
Waters blue;
Part not from her,
But renew
Cold and true
Kisses round her.
Lap me round,
Waters sad
That have left her;
Make me glad,
For ye had
Kissed her ere ye left her.'
"Before he had finished his song, the princess was just under the place where he sat, and looking up to find him. Her ears had led her truly.
"'Would you like a fall, princess?' said the prince, looking down.
"'Ah! there you are! Yes, if you please, prince,' said the princess, looking up.
"'How do you
