situation. At length he entered the service of the
King and Queen of the Twelve Towers.

This royal couple, who were renowned in Fairyland as much for their
goodness and generosity as for their wealth and magnificence, had but
one son, Prince Florizel. No braver or more gallant prince ever drew
breath. He had driven the dragon of the blue cavern out of his father's
kingdom; he had fought three wicked ogres one after the other, and
finished each one; he had delivered the diamond castle of a terrible
spell which lay upon it.

When Florian entered the service of the King and Queen, these excellent
parents were sending their son on a visit to his uncle, the Emperor of
the Plain, and Florian was ordered to join the gay company of lords and
ladies, knights and soldiers, who were to make the journey. According to
the gossip of the company, Prince Florizel was being sent to his uncle's
in the hope that he would fall in love with his uncle's ward, the
beautiful Princess Rosamond.

Now in some way or other, after the company had been a few days on the
road, Prince Florizel, who watched over the company as carefully as a
good captain does over his soldiers, became aware of the bravery,
trustworthiness, and modest bearing of Florian, the little page, and
promoted him to be his own personal squire. Alas! no sooner had he been
advanced, than Florian the little page, though remaining outwardly a
page, became at heart the runaway girl, Isabella. Though she fought as
hard as she could against her own heart, it was of little use, and she
knew herself to be deeply in love with the gallant Florizel. Yet she
suffered no word or sign of her affection to escape her, for Prince
Florizel thought her only a little page, and to speak would be to betray
the secret she had so long and successfully guarded.

One morning, as the cavalcade was riding through a charming country,
Florian, for so we must still continue to call Isabella, was following
close behind his master, when the Prince caught sight of a wonderful
scarlet flower, something like a scarlet lily, blooming by the roadside.
At the same moment, the little golden bird that Florian wore round his
neck sang a few clear notes as if it were alive.

"What a pretty flower!" said the Prince. "I must have it."

And he was about to dismount and pick the flower, when Florian spurred
on ahead of him, grasped the enchanted flower, and tossed it into a
ditch.

"Fie, what a naughty page!" cried t