at the other Sylvia's misunderstanding, but only said, "'The Lady of
the Lake' is story and poetry too, and we will play at it."

"And how?"

"I'll tell you as we go on. I'm the King--that is, the Knight of
Snowdon--James Fitzjames, for I'm in disguise, you know; and you're
Ellen."

"Must I be Ellen? We had a horrid nurse once, who used to slap us,
and was called Ellen."

"But it was her name. She was Ellen Douglas, and was in banishment
on an island with her father. You are Ellen, and Josephine is your
old harper--Allan Bane; she talks French, you know, and that will do
for Highland: Gallic and Gaelic sound alike, you know. There! Then
I'm going out hunting, and my dear gallant grey will drop down dead
with fatigue, and I shall lose my way; and when you hear me wind my
horn too-too, you get upon your hoop--that will be your boat, you
know--and answer 'Father!' and when I too-too again, answer
'Malcolm!' and then put up your hand behind your ear, and stand
listening


"With locks thrown back and lips apart,
Like monument of Grecian art;"


and then I'll tell you what to do."