d in the stream that hurried
beneath he imagined he saw the march of mighty nations passing before
his feet to do him homage. To-day all such imaginations must end; and
it was more habit than anything else that had brought him to the spot.
He did not come, as formerly, half in fear and half in delight, hoping
to meet with some beneficent fairy or other, who would grant him the
three wishes which all fairies have in their gift. No; he came to take
a last look at that world of dreams in which he had lived from
childhood, and to make up his mind to living henceforth in the
matter-of-fact world which common people inhabited.

It was afternoon when he came to the willow-stump throne and sat down
upon it. The sky was thronged with stately clouds--phantom mountains,
with castles on their tops--castles wherein Raymond's fancy had often
dwelt. The air was soft and warm, sweet with fragrance of lilac and
apple-blossoms, and bright with bird-songs. The bending willows swept
the river surface with slender green ringers, startling the trout and
grayling that quivered and darted in the pools and shallows. Life and
beauty and happiness were everywhere; and far to the eastward, piled
high against the horizon, rose the white marble walls and towers of
mighty London. They looked less real than the clouds. Sunlight
sparkled on the gilded domes, and cast afar the tender purple shadows
of royal palaces. And amidst green meadow-banks, and past gleaming
wharves populous with delicate masts and rainbow sails, swept the
azure curves of the translucent Thames towards the fair city. London
was, indeed, at this time, the most magnificent city in the world; and
Camelot, which was built hundreds of years afterwards, was never
anything to compare with it. What wonder, then, if Raymond eyed its
distant splendours with some regret, remembering that they were lost
to him for ever?

'But I have Rosamund,' he murmured to himself.

'So much the more fool you!' spoke a metallic voice close behind him.

Raymond looked round. Whence had come that grotesque figure which was
standing within a couple of yards of him, and which gazed at him with
an expression at once so quizzical and so penetrating? Had he ever
seen it before? No--and yet--had he?

The figure was that of a man about three feet high, with a body shaped
like a sack of potatoes, supported by short and crooked legs that bent
beneath its weight. The arms were so long that the hands (like great
c