her hold; it was that of a female in distress.

The young Knights rushed on board, when, ere the vessel sank, they drew
forth a young and lovely damsel, and carried her in safety to their own
bark. A few words sufficed to tell them that she was no other than the
Princess Urania, of whom they were in search.

Saint George was highly delighted with the prowess of his sons, and he
and his friends accompanied them to the Court of Urania's father, where
they were all, as might have been expected, sumptuously entertained.

From thence they again set forth in search of fresh adventures, which
were no less wonderful than those I have already narrated, but which
require a longer pen than mine to tell.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

THE DEATH OF SAINT PATRICK.

Time, which spares not kings or princes, any more than other people, at
length laid his heavy hand on the Seven Great Champions of Christendom,
and eke on their once doughty Squires. Hard knocks in battles and
tournaments, voyages by sea, and travels by land, hard fare as well as
gay revellings, fights with giants, monsters, wild beasts, and evil
spirits, had done their work, unnerved their once iron arms, and turned
their raven or auburn locks to grey; while from their chins, instead of
full bushy beards, hung down long silvery streamers of white; and those
lion voices, which once had been heard high above the din of battle, and
had braved kings on their thrones and giants in their dens, were now
changed to weak and trembling trebles, which could scarce be heard even
above the summer breeze.

First, of Saint Patrick I will tell. Laying aside his lance, and trusty
sword, and armour, which he committed to the care of his ancient
follower and faithful squire, Terence O'Grady, (now the father of a fine
family, and settled on his own estate in Ireland, which has been handed
down to his descendants from generation to generation,) he assumed the
humble palmer's guise, and resolved to wander up and down the world,
not, as before, to perform feats of arms, but to collect all sorts of
information which might be useful to his beloved native land, where he
proposed ultimately to lay his bones.

No longer was he accompanied by his faithful Terence, but solitary and
alone did the aged Palmer go forth. Great as he was, many sins had he
to mourn, and much had he to be sorry for.

Among the things he most regretted were the opportunities he had lost of
doing good, and of gaining th