e a lovely, radiant being sat by, with a
tiny phial in her hand.

"Hold here, little people!" she cried, "let me drop some cordial into
the pitcher."

"Nay, nay!" screamed Mattie.

"Nay!" cried Wattie sternly, "the drink must be as pure as crystal."

"For your noble warrior," added the fairy rising; "but the beverage will
taste the sweeter with the drops that I put into it." And so saying, she
stretched forth her hand, and shook the contents of her tiny flask into
the pitcher; and her gay laugh rang merrily and scornfully through the
midnight air.

Wattie and Mattie, half-frightened, hastened homewards; and lo, when
crossing the bridge, an old hag overtook them, and, as she hurried past,
she uttered a spiteful laugh.

"There is something strange in the air to-night," said Mattie. "See that
weird old woman, and hark, Wattie, how Oscar, the miller's dog, barks at
the moon."

"Mattie," cried Wattie resolutely, "let us empty our pitcher into the
mill-race, and go back once again, and draw afresh! 'Tis safer."

So the tiny couple, weary and worn out as they were, trudged all the way
to the Fairy Well once more to "make sure" that the stranger knight
should come to no harm through their fault.

And this time the water flowed clear and cold, but with no varied tints
flashing through it. Only Wattie seemed to hear the stream rushing over
the pebbles like a soft, lisping voice. "Hush! listen! what does it
say?"

"To me," cried Mattie, "it whispers, 'Silver sword of Ravenspur.' But
that has no sense, Wattie dear. Come, let us go!"

"And to me the same!" cried Wattie, "'Silver sword of Ravenspur.' That
means something."

It was now early dawn as the two passed over the bridge and by the
miller's house, and they could see the fish floating _dead_ on the
surface of the mill-race, and poor Oscar the dog lying stretched on the
bank, with his tongue hanging out stiff and cold. And silently wondering
at all these strange things the little couple finished their task.

When the hour of noon arrived, the din of battle raged wild and fierce
round the village of Langaffer. The enemies of the land had arrived from
the west with false Colin at their head, and were met by the soldiers in
the plain, below the Castle of Ravenspur. With a loud war-cry on either
side foe rushed upon foe, and the fight began. Horsemen reeled over and
tumbled from their chargers, blood flowed freely on every side, shrieks
rent the air; but the streng