deeper wisdom than he knew. "And you can't be stopped off quests that
way. Come on, Prince."

At a bend in the mossy path, he looked back and she waved her lily hand.

* * * * *

To be alone in the deep of the wood in bluebell time was, for Roy, a
sensation by itself. In a moment, you stepped through some unseen door
straight into fairy-land--or was it a looking-glass world? For here the
sky lay all around your feet in a shimmer of bluebells: and high
overhead were domes of cool green light, where the sun came flickering
and filtering through millions of leaves. Always, as far as he could
remember, the magical feeling had been there. But this morning it came
over him in a queer way. This morning--though he could not quite make it
out--there was the Roy that felt and the Roy that knew he felt, just as
there had suddenly been when he was watching his mother's face. And this
magical world was his kingdom. In some far-off time, it would all be his
very own. That uplifting thought eclipsed every other....

Lost in one of his dreaming moods, he wandered on and on, with Prince at
his heels. He forgot all about Tara and his knighthood and his quest;
till suddenly--where the trees fell apart--his eye was arrested by twin
shafts of sunlight that struck downward through the green gloom.

He caught his breath and stood still. "I've _found_ them! The Golden
Tusks!" he murmured ecstatically.

The pity was he couldn't carry them back with him as trophies. He could
only watch them fascinated, wondering how you could explain what you