good
things to eat."

"That we will, little sister," said George. "And I quite agree with
Francoeur, our squire, who when he went to Rome, took a ham with him, in
case he should hunger, and a flask lest he should be thirsty. But hurry,
for it is growing late, though I don't know the time."

"The shepherdesses know by looking at the sun," said Honey-Bee; "but I
am not a shepherdess. Yet it seems to me that when we left the sun was
over our head, and now it is down there, far behind the town and castle
of Clarides. I wonder if this happens every day and what it means?"

While they looked at the sun a cloud of dust rose up from the high road,
and they saw some cavaliers with glittering weapons ride past at full
speed. The children hid in the underbrush in great terror. "They are
thieves or probably ogres," they thought. They were really guards sent
by the Duchess of Clarides in search of the little truants.

The two little adventurers found a footpath in the underbrush, not a
lovers' lane, for it was impossible to walk side by side holding hands
as is the fashion of lovers. Nor could the print of human footsteps be
seen, but only indentations left by innumerable tiny cloven feet.

"Those are the feet of little devils," said Honey-Bee.

"Or deer," suggested George.

The matter was never explained. But what is certain is that the footpath
descended in a gentle slope towards the edge of the lake which lay
before the two children in all its languorous and silent beauty. The
willows surrounded its banks with their tender foliage. The slender
blades of the reeds with their delicate plumes swayed lightly over the
water. They formed tremulous islands about which the water-lilies spread
their great heart-shaped leaves and snow-white flowers. Over these
blossoming islands dragon-flies, all emerald or azure, with wings of
flame, sped their shrill flight in suddenly altered curves.

The children plunged their burning feet with joy in the damp sand
overgrown with tufted horse-tails and the reed-mace with its slender
lance. The sweet flag wafted towards them its humble fragrance and the
water plantain unrolled about them its filaments of lace on the margin
of the sleeping waters which the willow-herb starred with its purple
flowers.

VIII

Wherein we shall see what happened to George of Blanchelande
because he approached the lake in which the nixies dwel

Honey-Bee crossed the sand between two clumps of wil