“‘Lift me up,’ said the king, when the ship came close beside them, ’and put me into the ship.’  And the knight lifted him up, while the three queens stretched out their hands and drew him into the ship.

“‘Oh, king! take me with you,’ said the knight, ’take me too.  What shall I do all alone without you?’ But the ship began to move away, and the knight was left standing on the shore.  Only he fancied he heard the king’s voice saying, ‘Wait for me, I shall come again.  Farewell!’

“And the ship went faster and faster away into the darkness, for it was a fairy ship, till at last the knight could see it no more.  So then he knew that the king had been carried away by the fairies of the lake—­the same fairies who had given him the sword in old days, and who had loved him and watched over him all his life.  But what did the king mean by saying, ’I shall come again’?”

Then Aunt Emma stopped and looked at the children.

“What did he mean, auntie?” asked Milly, who had been listening with all her ears, and whose little eyes were wet, “and did he ever come back again?”

“Not while the knight lived, Milly.  He grew to be quite an old man, and was always hoping that the fairies would bring the king again.  But the king never came, and his friend died without seeing him.”

“But did he ever come again?” asked Olly.

“I don’t know, Olly.  Some people think that he is still hidden away somewhere by the kind water-fairies, and that some day, when the world wants him very much, he will come back again.”

“Do you think he is here in this lake?” whispered Milly, looking at the water.

“How can we tell what’s at the bottom of the lake?” said Aunt Emma, smiling.  “But no, I don’t think the king is hidden in this lake.  He didn’t live near here.”

“What was his name?” asked Milly.

“His name was King Arthur.  But now, children, hurry; there is father putting all the baskets into the boat.  We must get home as quick as we can.”

They rowed home very quickly, except just for a little time when Milly rowed, and they did not go quite so fast as if father were rowing alone.  It was quite evening now on the lake, and there were great shadows from the mountains lying across the water.  Somehow the children felt much quieter now than when they started in the afternoon.  Milly had curled herself up inside mother’s arm, and was thinking a great deal about King Arthur and the fairy ship, while Olly was quite taken up with watching the oars as they dipped in and out of the water, and occasionally asking his father when he should be big enough to row quite by himself.  It seemed a very little time after all before they were stepping out of the boat at Aunt Emma’s boathouse, and the picnic and the row were both over.

“Good-bye, dear lake,” said Milly, turning with her hands full of water-lilies to look back before they went up to the house.  “Good-night, mountains; good-night, Birdsnest Point.  I shall soon come and see you again.”