e poor little fellow to death. But as soon as the giant
tasted the berries he got into good humor, and he asked the page if he
could remove the spell of enchantment from him.

"I can," said the page, "and I will if you promise me that you will not
try to cross the borders of fairyland."

"I promise that, with all my heart," said the giant. "But hurry on, my
little man, for there are pins and needles in my legs."

The page plucked a cowslip, and picking out the five little crimson
spots in the cup of it, he flung one to the north, and one to the south,
and one to the east, and one to the west, and one up into the sky, and
the spell was broken, and the giant's limbs were free. Then Sharvan
and the fairy page set off for Dooros Wood, and it was not long until
they came within view of the fairy tree. When Sharvan saw the berries
glistening in the sun, he gave a shout so loud and strong that the wind
of it blew the little fairy back to fairyland. But he had to return to
the wood to tell the giant that he was to stay all day at the foot of
the tree ready to do battle with anyone who might come to steal the
berries, and that during the night he was to sleep amongst the branches.

"All right," said the giant, who could scarcely speak, as his mouth was
full of berries.

Well, the fame of the fairy-tree spread far and wide, and every day some
adventurer came to try if he could carry away some of the berries; but
the giant, true to his word, was always on the watch, and not a single
day passed on which he did not fight and slay a daring champion, and the
giant never received a wound, for fire could not burn him, nor water
drown him, nor weapon wound him.

Now, at this time, when Sharvan was keeping watch and ward over the
tree, a cruel king was reigning over the lands that looked towards
the rising sun. He had slain the rightful king by foul means, and his
subjects, loving their murdered sovereign, hated the usurper; but much
as they hated him they feared him more, for he was brave and masterful,
and he was armed with a helmet and shield which no weapon made by mortal
hands could pierce, and he carried always with him two javelins that
never missed their mark, and were so fatal that they were called "the
shafts of death." The murdered king had two children--a boy, whose name
was Niall, and a girl, who was called Rosaleen--that is, little Rose;
but no rose that ever bloomed was half as sweet or fresh or fair as she.
Cruel as