George had won the fight and slain the dragon.

The watchman on the brazen tower had also seen the dragon fall, and so the king had the gates of brass, that had been closed for so long, thrown wide open.

With sounds of trumpets and shouts of joy the king and queen and their people came out to greet George and Una, and to thank George, who had saved them and their land from the horrible dragon.

The people crowded round the dead body of the monster. The children wished to look at it closely, and when a bold little boy took hold of its claws, his mother screamed with fright, and dragged him back. So long had they been in terror of their savage enemy, that even when it lay dead they still feared that it might do them some harm.

The dragon was dead (page 30)

There never was a happier wedding than the wedding of Una and George, the Red Cross Knight, nor was there ever any bride more beautiful than Una.

Her dress was spotless, like a white lily. It was not made of silver nor silk, yet like silver and silk it shone and glistened. Her golden hair hung round her happy face, and her face was like the freshest flower of May.

Fairy music rang through the air, and there was nothing but happiness in the land on the day that Una wedded brave George of Merry England.

III

BRITOMART AND THE MAGIC MIRROR

Long years ago there lived a beautiful princess whose name was Britomart.

When she was a little girl she did not care to play with dolls nor to sew, but she loved to ride and to play boys’ games. And when she grew older she learned to fight with spears and swords like the knights at her father’s court.

Now a great magician called Merlin had once given a wonderful gift to the king, Britomart’s father.

It was a magic mirror, that looked like a ball of the clearest crystal.

When the king looked in this mirror he saw all that was going to happen to him, and which of his friends were false and which true. There was no hidden secret which that crystal ball could not tell.

One day Britomart went into her father’s room and looked into his magic mirror.

‘What shall I wish to see?’ she asked of herself.

Then she thought, ‘Some day I shall marry. I should like the crystal ball to show me what my husband will be like.’

Even as she thought this, she saw, like a moving picture, a knight riding across the crystal.

He was tall and broad and strong, and looked very brave. The front of his shining helmet was drawn up, and from under it looked out the handsome face that his friends loved and his foes feared. He wore beautiful armour, all inlaid with gold, and she knew what his name was, and that he had won this armour in a fight with another great knight, for on it was written:

‘Achilles’ armes which Artegall did win.’

From that day Britomart could think of nothing but the knight whose picture had ridden across the mirror and vanished away.

She grew thoughtful and sad, and could not sleep, for she feared it was a dreadful thing to love a shadow.

Her old nurse slept in her room, and at night when she heard Britomart tossing about in bed and softly crying to herself, the old woman was very unhappy. Night after night she heard her, till she could bear it no longer. She asked Britomart what was wrong, and Britomart sobbingly told her.

Then the good old nurse comforted Britomart. She said she was sure that Artegall must be a real man, and not just a shadow, and that she would find him. Then she tucked the bedclothes round Britomart, and put out the flickering lamp. When Britomart, much comforted, had fallen quietly asleep, her nurse sat and watched beside her, and dropped some tears because Britomart was no longer a little baby-girl for her to take care of, but a grown-up girl who loved a knight.

Next day the old nurse went to the woods and gathered all sorts of herbs. She boiled them down together, and mixed them with milk and other things, and put them in an earthen pot. Round the pot she bound three of her hairs plaited together. Then she said a charm over the pot, and made Britomart turn round and round and round about it. She thought that this charm would cure Britomart of loving the knight, and make her gay and happy again. But the old nurse’s charm was no good. Britomart grew thin and sad and ill.

Then the old woman thought of Merlin, the magician who had made the mirror.

‘It is all his fault that my princess is so sad,’ she said; ‘he must make her happy again.’

So she dressed Britomart and herself in shabby old clothes, and went to seek Merlin.

The magician lived in a dark cave under a rock. The rock lay near a swift-rushing river that ran down between thickly wooded hills. Hollow, fearful sounds, and a clanking, as of chains, were always heard there.

When Britomart and her nurse reached the lonely cave, and heard the noise of moans and groans and clanking chains, they were too frightened at first to go in. But at length they plucked up courage and entered the cave, and found Merlin writing magic words on the dark floor. He knew very well, although they wore shabby old clothes, that his visitors were the Princess Britomart and the princess’s nurse. But he pretended that he did not know them, and asked them what they wanted.

‘Three moons have come and gone,’ said the nurse, ‘since this fair maid first turned ill. I do not know what ails her, but if you cannot cure her, she will die.’

Merlin smiled.

‘If that is all you want,’ he said, ‘you had better take her to a doctor.’

‘If any doctor could have done her good,’ said the nurse, ‘I should not have troubled you. But I fear that a witch or a wicked fairy must have bewitched her.’

Then Merlin burst out laughing.

‘Why do you go on pretending to me?’ he said. ‘I know all about it. This is the beautiful Princess Britomart, and you are her nurse.’

At that Britomart blushed rosy red, but the nurse said:

‘If you know all our grief, then have pity on us, and give us your help.’

Then Merlin told Britomart not to be sad, for Artegall was a real living knight, and one of the bravest and noblest that lived. His home was in Fairyland, but he was a king’s son that the fairies had stolen away when he was a baby.

‘You shall marry Artegall,’ said the magician, ‘and bring him back from Fairyland to his own country, where he shall be king.’

Then he gave her much advice, and told her of the great things that should be done in the days to come by the sons that were to be hers and Artegall’s.

And Britomart and her nurse, with happy hearts, came away from the magician’s gloomy cave.

‘But how shall we seek my knight?’ asked Britomart of her nurse. ‘How shall we find him?’

The nurse said: ‘Let us dress ourselves in some of the armour that your father has taken from his enemies. You shall be a knight, and I will be your squire. Together we will ride to Fairyland and find Artegall.’

When Britomart was dressed in shining armour of silver and gold, she looked a very handsome, tall, young knight. Her nurse dressed her as carefully as she had dressed her long ago in her baby-clothes, and, when all her armour was on, she put into her hand a