The day after my little friend had related to me his experiences in the land of the King and Queen of Hearts, I was surprised to receive a portmanteau addressed to me, which, on my opening it, I found to contain the little yellow costume, including the turban with the diamond ornament, which Shin Shira had always worn.

There was no note enclosed, and I naturally wondered very much what had occasioned this strange parcel being sent to me.

I had no means of communicating with Shin Shira, and so had to wait with what patience I could summon for an explanation from him.

I had not long to wait, fortunately, for in the afternoon of the same day the little fellow burst in upon me, clothed in a frock coat, tall hat and regulation costume of a gentleman in easy circumstances.

I must say he was not nearly such a picturesque looking person as he had been in his Oriental dress. He threw himself into a chair and seemed overflowing with news.

"I've decided to settle down," he said breathlessly. "I didn't tell you yesterday because my arrangements were not quite completed, but I've begun now, and I'm going to settle down."

"What do you mean?" I inquired, utterly bewildered by my friend's abrupt statement.

"Why," he began, "I'm tired of this constant changing from one place to another; and as I've not had to disappear now for some time, I've come to the conclusion that the fairies have overlooked the misdeeds of my ancestors and are going to give me a rest. I've taken a house in the highly respectable neighbourhood of Russell Square, and I've furnished it by means of my fairy powers with everything that is necessary; besides this, I've realised the full value of all my precious stones, except, of course, that which the dear Princess gave me, and have opened a banking account. There!" and the little fellow sat back, evidently feeling quite exhausted by his long speech and vainly searching for his little fan, which, of course, was not there.

I scarcely knew what to say to this surprising statement, and waited for further developments before replying. "I've engaged a housekeeper to look after me, and two servants also; and—as you see—have discarded my Oriental costume for one more suitable to this country and climate; I sent you my old costume and turban by a trustworthy messenger this morning, having changed at my tailor's into the attire in which you see me. I hope it has arrived safely?"

I assured him that it had, and sent for the portmanteau in order that he might see for himself.

"That's all right, then," he said with a sigh of relief; "and now I want to hand you this blank cheque which I have signed, and, in case I disappear, I want you to draw out the whole amount standing to my account at the bank at the time, so that I may be able to get it in case I appear again. I have an idea that I shall not have to undergo these changes many more times. Of course, if I never come back, the money will be yours, as I have no one else to leave it to."

I thanked him very heartily for the trust he reposed in me, and assured him that his wishes should be carried out to the letter.

"That's all right, then!" he exclaimed in a tone of satisfaction; "and now I want to arrange for a nice little party at my new home to act as a kind of—er—home warming—I think you call it. Ask the children and any of your friends who know me, and, if you let me know beforehand how many are coming, I will arrange for what, I hope, will turn out to be a very enjoyable evening."

We fixed the date, and after my little friend had gone, I wrote informally, as Shin Shira wished, to as many of my friends as would be likely to wish to come, to ask them to attend.

Nearly everybody accepted—for the little fellow was a great favourite with everybody who knew him—and, as Shin Shira looked in every day to know how the replies were coming in, I was able to tell him in a few days that we might expect from twenty to twenty-five guests.

From then till the date fixed Shin Shira was very busy, and I only saw him once or twice, and on the eventful day I did not see him at all.

The Verrinder children were coming in the carriage with me, and, according to arrangement, we were the first to arrive.

There was an awning at the door and a red carpet laid down the steps and across the pavement; the house was brilliantly lighted, and evidently grand preparations had been going on.I hurried up the steps, followed by Marjorie, Dick and Fidge.

The servant who stood at the open door, and who knew me by sight, was looking very anxious, and whispered, "The housekeeper would like to speak to you at once in the dining-room, sir."

"Anything the matter?" I asked.

"Yes, sir, the master—he—he can't be found," said the man.

I hurried down to the dining-room, and found the housekeeper in her best black silk dress, looking even more distressed than the manservant had been.

"The master, sir," she began at once when I entered the room. "Whatever is to be done? He can't be found anywhere—and the guests beginning to arrive—"

"Never mind," said I, after thinking a moment. "I've no doubt he'll be here presently—and, in the meantime, as I know most if not all of the guests, I'll receive them, and explain that he has probably been called away and will no doubt be back presently."

I hurried up into the drawing-room, and found that by this time several guests had arrived, and were looking greatly surprised at finding no host to receive them.

I apologised for my friend as well as I was able, and pointed out that probably he would soon return, and, in the meantime, he would doubtless wish us to make ourselves at home.

We found everything arranged for our comfort. Professional singers gave an excellent concert in the drawing-room—an excellent supper was served downstairs.

The children were not forgotten, and, while the concert had been proceeding in the drawing-room, an amusing entertainment was provided for them in another room. Beside each plate at supper, also, there was a little present, chosen carefully, and our names written distinctly on each.

Everything was thoroughly well thought out and provided for—but—there was no host to receive our thanks and to bid us "good-bye" when we went.

The whole affair, therefore, though I naturally did my best for my friend's sake to "keep things going," concluded rather flatly, and I went home after it was all over feeling not a little depressed and anxious.

I called the next day, and the day after, but Shin Shira had not returned, nor had anything been heard of, or from him.

It was most mysterious, and I could only account for it by the fact that the fairies may have, in fact must have, caused him to disappear once more.

The housekeeper told me, on my inquiring of her, that he had been at home the whole of the day on which the party had been held, superintending all the arrangements, and had gone up early to his room to dress, and from that time all trace of him had been lost.

I was very sorry, and the more so as days and weeks flew by and nothing happened to give us any clue as to his whereabouts.

After a couple of months, I told the servants that they had better seek other situations, and when they had done so I let them go. I closed the house, and waited for events.

It must have been quite a year later when I received the following letter—

I sat a long while after I had read this letter, thinking of all the strange happenings since I had known my little friend.

I had grown quite to love and respect him, and when I thought of the noble and chivalrous deed he intended performing in order to save the poor creature in that far-off island, I felt that he was indeed worthy of all admiration.

I got down a map, and tried in vain to find the island he mentioned. It was not marked in any of those which I had by me.

Then I found the portmanteau which Shin Shira had left with me, and looked at the little yellow costume, which reminded me so much of my friend.

In lifting it from the bag, something heavy dropped from between the folds. It was the Magic Crystal. I held it in my hand, and wished I could see what Shin Shira was doing at that moment. The thought had no sooner entered my head than I gave an exclamation of surprise.

A mist in which vague figures were moving filled the crystal, and presently I could see distinctly a large crowd of people gathered together. A man and woman stood beneath a canopy—the man I soon perceived was Shin Shira himself, still clothed in the immaculate frock coat and tall hat in which I had last seen him dressed. The woman was a poor, deformed thing and pitifully plain—her gaudy dress and many jewels but helped to point the contrast.

Before them stood a priest, and at the side the King, surrounded by his warriors. It was evidently the celebration of a wedding, and the ceremony was over, for the bridegroom led the bride from under the canopy and knelt with her before the King, who stretched out his hands as though he were giving them his blessing—and then, to my astonishment, a most marvellous thing happened. A blaze of light flashed across the scene, and a beautiful being, who I am convinced was the Fairy Queen herself, floated down from the heights above, accompanied by a crowd of beings nearly as beautiful as herself. She waved her wand three times, and the bride became a beautiful Princess, and Shin Shira grew tall, young and handsome in an instant.

The King and his court gazed in amazement at the scene, and the Princess fell into Shin Shira's arms.

The Fairy waved her wand again, and a bright crown appeared on Shin Shira's head, in which flashed a single stone of great brilliancy. At the same instant the jewel vanished from the yellow turban beside me.

The crystal grew clear as the beautiful scene faded away, and that was the last glimpse I ever had of my little friend.

I often think of him, and I like to imagine, as, indeed, I believe to be the case, that the fairies have restored to him his full powers, and that the bride he had so unselfishly wedded turned out to be the very Princess to whom he had been faithful throughout his long life.

It may be so—if the crystal spoke truly. Who knows?

THE END