talk and laughter and the singing of songs, the chattering of many voices and the neighing of horses.

And the Princess Guinevere rode with an escort of her damsels and her court, and her beauty outshone the beauty of her maidens as the splendor of the morning star outshines that of all the lesser stars that surround it.

Now when the Princess Guinevere had come to that place, she perceived the milk-white warhorse of King Arthur where it stood cropping the green grass of the open glade nigh to the hermitage. And likewise she perceived Merlin, where he stood beside the door of the cell. So of him she demanded whose was that noble war-horse that stood browsing upon the grass at that lonely place, and who was it that lay within that cell. And unto her Merlin made answer: "Lady, he who lieth within is a knight, very sorely wounded, so that he is sick nigh unto death!"

"Alas and alack!" cried the Princess Guinevere, "what a sad thing is this that thou tellest me! Now I do beseech thee to lead me presently unto that knight, that I may behold him. For I have in my court a very skilful leech, who is well used to the cure of wounds such as knights receive in battle."

So Merlin brought the princess into the cell, and there she beheld Arthur where he lay stretched upon the pallet. And she wist not who he was, for it had been many years since she had beheld him afore. Yet she saw that there was somewhat in his face she knew, and it seemed to her that in all her life she had not beheld so noble-appearing a knight

as he who lay sorely wounded in that lonely place. And King Arthur cast his gaze upward to where she stood, so close beside his bed, surrounded by her maidens; and so weak was he with his sickness that he knew not whether she whom he beheld was a mortal lady, or whether she was not rather some tall, fair angel who had descended from one of the lordly courts of Paradise for to visit him in his pain and distress. And the Princess Guinevere was filled with a great pity at beholding King Arthur's sorrowful estate. Wherefore she called to her that skilful leech who was with her court, and bidding him bring a certain alabaster box of exceedingly precious balsam, she commanded him for to search that knight's wounds and to anoint them therewith, so that he might be healed of his hurt with all despatch.

So that wise and skilful leech did according to the Princess Guinevere's commands, and immediately King Arthur felt entire ease of all his aches and great content of spirit. And when the princess and her court had departed he found himself much uplifted in heart, and three days thereafter he was entirely healed, and was as well and strong and lusty as ever he had been in all of his life.

And now listen and I will tell you of the marvelous ending of this goodly adventure, and of how in an exceeding strange way King Arthur obtained that famous sword Excalibur, the like of which the world had never beheld before that time and which haply it will never behold again.

pocket, though he had n't even money enough to hire a donkey, he set out bravely for the Castle of the Beeches, hoping that the new estates would restore his fortunes, and then, being still a young man, he expected to do good work in the world.

To his amazement, Sir Alan found it difficult to reach his new castle. After a long and tiresome trip on foot, he came to the region where he expected to see its towers rising to the sky; but there was no castle in sight, and, what was worse, no one seemed to know anything about the estates.

He had nearly given up hope, when one bright midday he entered an old wood, and, almost worn out, stopped for a meal of bread and milk at the hut of an aged shepherd. Having eaten his luncheon on the door-step, the knight asked the old man whether there was a castle in the neighborhood the Castle of the Beeches.

"Let me think," said the old shepherd, slowly. "I have heard of it. Yes; it comes back to me. I think I went there when a boy. It was a fine old place. Yes; it was surely a fine old place, a fine-"

"Thank you," said Sir Alan,to bring the old man back to his subject. "Can you direct me to it?"

"It was sixty years ago," replied the shepherd, "but I believe it is at the end of the woodroad yonder."

Thanking the peasant and giving him his last piece of silver, Sir Alan walked briskly into the wood. The trees grew so thickly together that it was twilight at noon on that road, but the knight pressed bravely on, hoping his long walk was ended. In and out amid the treetrunks wound the unused roadway, and just before sunset Sir Alan found himself near a great stone pillar which he saw only dimly in the dusk.

"At last!" he exclaimed. "Here is my castle. I can see the gateway"; and he went eagerly forward.

There was the gateway, it is true; but there was nothing else. One great stone pillar, on top of which was a stone dragon with wings, stood alone in the forest. All about it were the dense woods where the squirrels ran, the birds

chirped, and the beetles crawled, with no one to disturb them.

Sir Alan sank down on the broken threshold. It was some time before he could speak. At length he looked up.

"It cannot be the place," he said; "the old shepherd was in his dotage." But even as he spoke, his eyes caught the name "Castle of the Beeches" cut in the stone of the pillar. There could be no mistake. The king had given him a ruin.

And there on the foot-worn old step Sir Alan sat and watched the sun go down. Gradually the night came on, and still Sir Alan sat unmoving.

At last he rose.

"I should bruise my shins, if I did not break my neck," said he, "were I to attempt to find my way out of the forest in the dark. An old soldier can be happy anywhere. Come - I'll sleep to-night in my castle, if never again!"

So saying, he gathered great piles of dry leaves and made of them a comfortable pallet, and then he lay down and slept dreamlessly till morning.

Just as the sun rose, Sir Alan awoke and, like an old campaigner, was on his feet at once. He brushed the leaves from his doublet and hose, and prepared to leave his “estates.”

He looked up at the dragon-the grinning stone dragon on the pillar. "Good luck to you, old fellow, and may you keep as happy as you look," he exclaimed gaily. "I hate to leave you alone. But I have my living to make, and the morning hour has gold in its mouth,' you know."

As Sir Alan spoke these joking words, he happened to gaze at the dragon's open jaws, and, queerly enough, there seemed to be a golden gleam there.

"You have gold in your mouth, too, it seems!" exclaimed the knight; "or at least the sun is shining on a bright leaf there. Let us see."

Out of idle curiosity, he swung himself up by the branches of an old tree that leaned against the pillar, looked into the dragon's mouth, and there he found a golden key.

"A key without a door is of little use," said the knight, drawing it forth; but as he lifted it he found a gold chain attached to the top of