Marmie decided it was grip, after the usual remedies had had no effect whatever on the generally wretched feeling that made both Rose and Ruth as miserable as wet kittens.

“I feel as though I had been broken to pieces and then put together again all wrong,” Ruth told her sister, as they lay in their little white beds, and Rose coughed and sneezed something that sounded like “So do I.”

However, this terrible sensation lasted only a couple of days. After that they began to weary of staying in bed. The sun was bright outdoors, and they could hear exciting noises downstairs, and at mealtimes Marmie and Dad laughed several times, but when the girls wanted to know what all the fun had been, Marmie couldn’t remember at all.

“Why, we didn’t laugh any more than we ever do, dears. Indeed, I thought we were rather glum.”

“Can’t we get up, Marmie?”

“Perhaps for a bit to-morrow. But just stay quiet to-day and get strong. You’ve had fever, you know.”

And she piled their beds with toys and books, and went away to attend to other things, leaving a big bell within reach so that either of them could ring if anything was wanted.

But they didn’t feel like playing or like reading. It seemed as though the bedclothes smothered all the fun out of that sort of thing.

“Why are people sick?” asked Ruth, fretfully.

“Probably to make them appreciate being well. Just think how we go on almost all the time bursting with health, and never stop to like it.”

“I do like it,” Ruth returned indignantly.

“But just the way you like to breathe, without thinking about it. Now we think about it, though. Golly, I’d like a big piece of pie this minute.”

They both sighed.

“Well, well, well!” exclaimed that raindrop-falling voice they loved so much to hear. “What’s all this woe?”

“Oh, Fairy, Fairy Honeysqueak! We’ve been sick, but we’re better. How perfectly splendid of you to come. We were just wishing we could do something besides lie here and think about good things to eat we can’t have. Can you take us on an adventure? Or can’t we go till we are well again?”

Rose had poured out these questions and explanations in a breath, and when she stopped Honeysqueak laughed in her most delicious fashion.

“This being ill is one of the absurd ways of mortals that I simply cannot understand,” she said, finally. “But I don’t believe there’s much sickness in you two any longer. Certainly not enough to keep us from going on an adventure. Indeed, that’s what I came for. And as I want to see an old friend of mine, I’m going to choose this time.”

“And where will you choose to go? Darling fairy, tell us, because we want to know who your old friend is.”

“I’m going to take you to see little Guinevere, and have a chat with old Merlin myself.”

“Queen Guinevere?” gasped Ruth.

“Well, she isn’t queen anything yet, because she’s only a little girl. But she lives in a castle, and her mother’s a queen.”

“Hurry up and let’s go,” begged both the excited girls, stretching their hands toward the sound of Honeysqueak’s voice.

Her tiny hands slipped into theirs, and immediately their eyes closed. Off they floated... floated... thump!

Before them a huge grey arch of stone curved into the air, barred by a great iron gateway. Through the bars of this gate they could see a moat full of dark water, and hanging in the air, or so it seemed, was a bridge.

“Blow the horn hanging by the gate,” said the voice of Honeysqueak.

“Why, you haven’t gone this time, fairy, have you! How lovely! Will you stay with us all through our visit?” asked Rose delightedly.

“I’ll be about,” returned the fairy. “You see, they are all used to fairies here, and one more or less won’t matter. But blow the horn.”

Ruth had found the horn while Rose talked, a golden bugle hanging from a ring in the stone arch; now she set it to her lips and blew with all her might.

At once the barred gate rose upward, while the bridge fell. The way lay straight across the moat. But all this while never a man showed himself.

The girls walked rather fearfully across the bridge, for they weren’t sure that it might not spring up into the air again and shake them off. It remained quiet, however. On the further side a strip of greensward separated the moat from the wall of a castle. The castle was built with two round towers and a square middle portion, in which a huge and heavy door of wood strengthened with bands and bolts of iron, with a small window in the upper part, frowned inhospitably. A kind of bronze gong hung beside this door.

“Strike the gong,” said Honeysqueak.

This time Rose stepped forward, took up an iron hammer that rested on the ground, and struck the gong a couple of resounding thwacks. The hollow tumult that ensued rolled on and on, first gathering strength, then diminishing, then once more swelling into a perfect sea of sound; it seemed as though all the echoes in the world had collected there, and were playing with the voice of the gong.

“My crikey,” murmured Rose.

And then the door swung slowly open. In the entrance stood a mighty man dressed in chain armour, over which hung a splendid silken tunic of scarlet with embroideries in gold. A sword hung at his side, the visor of his helmet was closed, and in his hand he held a spear.

“Who comes?” he asked gruffly.

“Friends of the great Merlin,” answered the voice of the fairy. “Let us pass.”

“Ye are welcome,” answered the knight, stepping aside. “Enter.”

So the two sisters walked hand and hand into the castle, the knight going on before. He led them into a lofty room hung with tapestries, with rushes strewn over the floor. High windows with thick glass in small irregular panes let through a soft light, and working near them at a great frame on which was stretched a piece of embroidery, sat a young girl. Her long golden hair curled down her back, while on top of her head she wore a sort of cap of threads of pearls. Her dress was straight and narrow, of shining white with silver threads, a golden chain hung round her neck, and there were bracelets on her arms. Rose and Ruth looked at her in wonder. Never had they seen a fairer sight.

“Princess Guinevere,” said the knight, bowing low, “here are friends of the great Merlin. I brought them here, according to thy command.”

“Ye are right welcome, princesses,” said Guinevere, smiling sweetly, and coming forward. “I trust ye are not weary with travel...” and she clapped her hands together lightly. At once two maidens entered, carrying bread and honey and milk, which they placed on a table. In the meanwhile Guinevere had taken each of the girls by the hand and now she led them to two stools by the table.

“Will ye not eat and refresh yourselves?” she said.

“Thanks, Princess Guinevere,” replied Rose. Ruth was too thunderstruck at finding herself a princess to say anything. Looking at Rose and herself she found they were dressed much as Guinevere, except that instead of white she wore a gold-coloured silk, and Rose a lovely lavender embroidered with palest green. In spite of her astonishment she set to heartily at the bread and honey, as did Rose.

“Merlin told me ye would arrive to-day,” Guinevere continued. “And fain am I to see ye. There have been strange doings in the castle, and I wot well that ye can help me if ye will. The King, my father, is away on a quest, and except for the knight ye saw and my maidens I am alone. Sure are we that there is some enchantment afoot, for yesternight there were strange sounds throughout the castle, and this morning at cockcrow a loud voice summoned all my knights, one by one by name, to come and do battle. They rode out, armed and with drawn swords in their hands, and vanished forthwith, nor have we seen ought of them since.”

“Good gracious, I should think some of them would have stayed here to look after the castle,” ejaculated Rose.

“It would scarcely beseem them to refuse battle,” returned the Princess, “and the castle is safe from attack. Unless there be evil enchantment at work. But Merlin will soon be here, and there is none so great in magic as he.”

“It would be too bad if he didn’t come,” Ruth said, as she admired the golden chain that hung round her neck and reached as far as her waist, “for the fairy came especially to see him.”

“What fairy?”

“Our fairy. Fairy Honeysqueak. You know she brought us, and she said she wanted to have a chat with Merlin.”

“Ah,” said Guinevere. “Perhaps she too will help my knights and me.”

“I guess so. But couldn’t we do something?” It was Rose that wanted to know.

“Let us go up into the tower and watch,” replied Guinevere. “Possibly some knight sore beset might fly back here, and it were well to be prepared to give him speedy ingress.”

So up into the tower they went, by a winding stairway, narrow and slippery, so worn were the stones of which it was built. Every few steps a long slit in the wall gave a glimpse of the outdoor world, a shimmer of blue and green, a flash of meadow or a glint of water shining in the sun. And presently the three girls emerged on top of the turret and were able to overlook the country between the battlements that formed a screen behind which they could keep hidden.

It was a strange sight for Rose and Ruth.

A great forest stretched on three sides of the castle, beyond the square enclosed by the moat and the high wall. This forest was open, however, with grassy glades, and you could see far into the green, shadowy expanse. On the fourth side stretched a rolling meadow, through which a stream meandered, while far away a lake lay gleaming. But what was strange was not forest or lake or meadow, but the fact that, wherever the girls looked, they saw two knights in furious combat.

In one of the glades a large knight in black armour was hacking frantically at a smaller knight, who wore a scarlet sleeveless sort of a jacket over his armour. The smaller knight didn’t seem to mind the blows showered upon him, but whacked back in good measure, rising in his stirrups and whirling his sword with both hands. The horses stamped and circled, kicking up the dust.

These two were the nearest, but in all the glades and scattered about the meadows were other combatants, and always a knight in scarlet fought a knight in black.

“Yonder are my knights, the noble lords in scarlet,” Guinevere informed them. “Would Merlin were here to help us.”

“Here is Merlin, Princess.”

Rose and Ruth turned quickly toward the new voice. There stood a fine looking old man with a long sweeping grey beard, and singularly bright and piercing eyes that shone under heavy eyebrows. He was wrapped in a long black cloak embroidered in many colours with strange figures, and on his head was a close-fitting cap of black velvet.

“Oh, Merlin,” cried Guinevere, “what does this mean, this calling forth of all my knights to do battle with these black warriors? And see them fighting in a circle, nor can I mark that one among them all hath the advantage.”

Merlin shook his head slowly.

“It has taken all the powers of my magic, lady, to prevent thy knights from being overborne. There is a wicked and fierce queen, called by the name of Carla of the Quaking Pool, who hath laid a spell upon this castle and all those who would fight for thee. And unless some one come soon to our succour, I do fear...” and again he shook his grey head.

“What, Merlin, thou afeard?” asked a voice, and Rose and Ruth were rejoiced to recognise the Fairy Honeysqueak. “’Tis not like thee. Who is this wicked queen that she should so prevail upon thee?”

“She is a sister to the Lady of the Lake, but she is evil,” returned Merlin, sadly. “But right glad am I to see thee again, my lady fairy. Wilt thou not give me help in this danger?”

“I had come hoping for some quiet talk with thee, Merlin, but it is not to be,” said the fairy. “What with this danger and thy weakness. Yet help cometh.”

“It is sore needed,” returned the wizard. “See, even now, my magic avails little.”

Rose and Ruth, looking eagerly between the protecting walls, saw that the ring of red champions was weakening. One by one they began to give way, though still fighting desperately.

“Lordy!” exclaimed Rose, breathlessly, “just look at the fearful whacks that big black Knight is giving to the little red one—there, he nearly got him down that time. Can’t we do something? It seems awful to stand here and watch our soldiers getting the worst of it.”

At this moment there was a great shout from all the black knights, and with the roar of that shout the red knights dropped their weapons, or fell from their horses, or stumbled, if they were afoot, and fell to the ground. It seemed indeed as though some bad magic were at work.

Merlin groaned, and Guinevere began to sob. Ruth looked frantically round for the fairy, forgetting she could not be seen.

“Fairy, can’t something be done?” she cried.

“We’re doing all we can,” returned the voice of the fairy, and it seemed to be a sort of gasp, as though she were indeed straining every power she had.

At this moment a number of damsels ran from the forest and gave each of the red knights something to drink from a shining goblet. At once these fell to with renewed strength, laying on so lustily with their swords that the black warriors were now forced back.

“See, see, they’ve got their chance now,” Rose yelled, jumping up and down in her excitement. “Oh, Guinevere, let’s run down and see what we can do, if those other girls can help that much.” And with the word she turned and began racing down the spiral stairway as fast as she could go.

Ruth followed without a second’s pause, and after her came Guinevere, though Merlin called out something as she vanished from the roof that sounded like “beware!”

The three girls soon found themselves outside the castle. At a word from the Princess the solitary knight let down the drawbridge, and raised the portcullis. Out ran the three, and turned to the little glade where the red knight was fighting so doughtily with his huge antagonist.

But what was their astonishment to find no one there at all. Everything looked quiet and peaceful, there was not even a broken grass-blade to mark the spot of the desperate encounter.

Rose and Ruth stared, bewildered. But Guinevere trembled.

“This is magic,” she whispered. “Let us return forthwith to the castle, Lady Princesses. If it be not too late.”

They turned, but the forest seemed to have closed in upon them, and the castle could not be seen.

Hand in hand they made their way along a path that appeared to lead in the direction where the castle must be. Presently they reached a crossing. Here an old man was sitting.

“Tell us, kind sir, which is the right pathway toward the castle?” asked Guinevere.

The old man mumbled a few indistinct words, and waved with his hand toward the left. So thanking him, the three young damsels proceeded on their way. But they had not taken three steps before a voice called to them faintly to turn back. And Rose felt sure the voice was that of the fairy.

“I think so too,” said Ruth. “Let us turn as she says, Princess Guinevere.”

Guinevere consented, so the three turned back. And no sooner had they done so than they saw the castle, but it looked a great way off.

When they reached the spot where the old man had been, he was no longer there.

With the castle in sight, they pushed along as fast as might be, their hearts thumping anxiously. What a bewildering business it was! Rose and Ruth felt as though they were walking on quicksand, everything seemed so uncertain.

“But what has become of all the knights?” Ruth wanted to know.

And then one appeared, the big black knight, right in the middle of the path. And he smiled full evilly upon the three.

“Welcome, Princesses,” he said. “Yet it meseems that three fair damsels should not be wandering thus unattended through the Perilous Forest.” And again he smiled.

As Ruth told her sister later, that smile felt like an icicle slipped down her back.

Then he set a horn to his lips and blew a shrill call. The girls shrank together, looking anxiously around. No sooner had the echoes of that call died to silence when two other knights in black armour rode up. Bending from their saddles, the three each grasped one of the maidens, swung them to the horses’ backs, and set off full tilt into the forest.

Rose saw Ruth before her, bobbing up and down, and looking back as well as she might could catch a gleam of Guinevere’s bright hair as she was carried along by her captor. She could not see much of her own knight, for his visor was down and he was all covered up in his armour and a black cloak that streamed behind him as they rode.

“Help, Merlin, help!” called Guinevere, but her cries were suddenly stifled, as though the knight who bore her before him had covered her mouth. He was the big knight who had first halted them.

Rose felt angry. It seemed to her that Merlin really ought to do something for them, something that would count.

“Dear fairy,” she whispered, “what shall we do?”

And immediately the fairy’s voice came clear and sweet.

“Keep your courage,” it said. “If you don’t get frightened, everything will come out right. But no one can help you if you are afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” replied Rose sturdily. And with the words she felt a glow run over her, chasing away the chill that had struck into her very vitals when the knight dragged her up in front of him. “We’ll beat them,” she added, and laughed.

Just then the knight who rode ahead with Ruth drew rein, checking his steed. Looking by him Rose saw that the way was blocked by a knight in red.

Instantly the three black knights dropped their captives to the ground and prepared for battle. Ruth and Guinevere joined Rose, their eyes shining.

“We mustn’t be frightened,” whispered Rose. “The fairy has just told me. There they go...!”

Bang! The first of the black knights spurred his horse straight at the red knight, who set his spear in rest, and charged to meet the onslaught.

Over went the black knight and lay still on the ground.

The two sisters gave a shout of triumph.

“One!” cried Rose, just like the Count of Monte Christo in the play.

And then, to their amazement, the red knight turned his horse and rode away at full speed.

“Something’s wrong,” declared Ruth. “What does he act like that for?”

She looked to Guinevere to explain, but the young Princess shook her head sadly.

In the meanwhile the other two knights had run to see whether their comrade were yet alive. But he lay dead, with the red knight’s spear head in his throat.

Then the big knight took Guinevere, while the second knight swung both Rose and Ruth to the saddle of the dead knight’s horse, and once more they set off in a wild gallop.

Presently the way was again barred by a knight in red, and this time he too killed the knight who fought him, and then made off at top speed. Now only the big black knight remained. Grimly he put the three girls on the two free horses, driving them before him through the forest.

The shadows were growing long now, for the sun was climbing down the western slope of the sky. The three girls rode silently, watching eagerly to see if a new champion would not come to meet them. Soon indeed one came crashing through the trees, and silently opposed the big knight.

This time, however, after a dreadful crashing and smashing, the black knight threw the red one to the ground. Leaping from his horse he rushed to his fallen foe, drawing his sword. Before he reached him, however, the red knight vanished. They mounted and rode on, and once again the same thing happened, and the girls began to feel afraid, though they struggled against it, while the big knight cursed wickedly.

Then suddenly an old man stood before them. As they gazed at him, they saw it was none other than Merlin.

Lifting one hand, he stayed the big knight.

“Ride no farther, rash knight,” he said, in a deep voice. “My magic has prevailed, and thou goest but to thy doom.”

The knight answered with a short, contemptuous laugh.

“Out of the way, old fool,” he ordered. “Thinkest thou to stop me when I have laid two of thy knights low this very half hour?”

“Leave these damsels here with me, and thou shalt go free with thy life,” answered Merlin. “One awaiteth thee who wilt surely slay thee. Yet would I liefer that he and the Princess Guinevere should not meet—for that meeting reads darkly in the book of Fate.”

“Out of my way, or ’twill be the worse for thee!” shouted the knight fiercely. With the words he put spurs to his horse and charged upon Merlin. But the old man had disappeared.

Once again he drove the horses with the girls upon them before him. And the day darkened.

Then, in the path, Rose, who sat in front of Ruth on the leading horse, saw a new champion sitting on a great black horse. But he himself looked to be no more than a youth, slender and wearing no armour, though on his arm was a shield and in his hand a sword that shone in the shadow like a streak of lightning in a black sky.

“Loose those damsels, false and caitiff knight,” cried this youth, in a clear voice. “And set thyself to thy defence, or thy hour has come.”

But when the black knight saw the mere boy who opposed him he laughed aloud.

“Child,” he cried, “I will crush thee in my bare hands... dare ye oppose me!”

Without waiting for further parley the youth rode forward, while the girls drew aside with heavy hearts, for they hated to see this young man killed by their fierce captor. And how he could help being killed, after the success of this huge knight with stronger fighters, they knew not.

But the youth was stronger than he looked, and swift and brave beyond any imagining. He managed his horse so wonderfully that again and again he escaped a mighty blow aimed at him by the black knight, and landed immense buffets upon that proud man. On and on they fought, breathing hard, uttering short exclamations. And ever the youth got his shield between the sword of the black knight and his body, and ever he rained blows on his adversary like winter rain.

Rose and Ruth and Guinevere sat looking on, trembling with terror of a sort, though they were too excited to feel really afraid. And suddenly they saw the youth rise in his stirrups and bring his blade down on the casque of the black knight with so mighty a blow that it was split asunder, and with a frightful crash the knight fell dead upon the ground.

The youth, dismounting, walked slowly toward Guinevere. The girls saw that he was very pale, and that he staggered as he walked.

“It is a great joy to have saved thee from this evil man, lady,” he said, in a weak voice. “And now I pray thee to tell me of some holy man nearby, who will help me of my wounds, for I am sore hurt.”

“Come with me into my castle, where my maidens and I will tend thee carefully, fair youth,” returned the Princess. “Right gallantly hast thou fought, never so young a knight did so valiantly before this. How may I thank thee?”

“I require no thanks—joy enough it is to look upon thee and to have served thee,” returned the youth. “But let us e’en hasten, for I am passing faint.”

Then, to the great relief of Rose, who feared that the boy would die before they could possibly get back to the castle, she saw that they stood in the meadow before the walls. The gate was open, and a stream of knights in red armour was riding hastily toward them. In a few moments the youth was lifted to the saddle of one of these knights and the whole cavalcade, conducting Guinevere and the girls, rode into the donjon keep.

Merlin met them looking grave.

“It was not well, Princess, to leave this castle,” he said. “Now that has happened which cannot be gainsaid. But at least my magic has prevailed, with the help of my friend, the fairy. And now to assist this noble lord.”

With his wand he touched the face of the youth, who lay in a swoon, supported by a knight. At once the young hero opened his eyes and stood up, healed of his hurts.

Gravely he looked into the eyes of the princess, who returned his gaze with steady eyes in which tears shone, however.

“Thou hast saved me from I know not what of evil,” she whispered. “Wilt thou not tell me thy name, fair youth?”

“My name is Lancelot,” answered the youth. And Merlin sighed.

The princess took a knot of ribbon from her dress, and gave it to her rescuer.

“Sometime we shall see each other, when we are both older,” she said. “I feel this to be true. Do not forget me, noble Lord Lancelot, and know well that I shall keep thee secure in my heart and memory.”

“The mischief has begun,” murmured Merlin, but no one noticed the old man.

With another long look at Guinevere, Lancelot turned and walked lightly from the hall; the knights and ladies watched him as he mounted his steed, which waited at the doorway. Once in the saddle, he turned to look again at Guinevere, who was watching him with shining eyes. First lifting the ribbon to his lips, he bowed his head, and thrust the knot into the bosom of his embroidered doublet. Then he swung his horse to the right about, and sprang away into the purple evening.

Guinevere stood silent, her hands pressed to her heart.

“Come,” said the fairy, “we must go. I’ve had a good deal of anxiety to-day, and I want to get home.”

With the words the scene wavered, faded. And there were Rose and Ruth in their little white beds, with Marmie at the door bringing in some delicious-looking jelly.

“You’ve been so good and quiet that I’m going to give you a treat, youngsters,” she smiled at them. “Just look at this!”