But while these boastful thoughts passed through his brain, Sir Thomas did not keep the same heedful watch, and, in an instant, Sir Mordred had put aside his guard, and griping him tightly between his finger and thumb, so that he had no breath to cry out, he forced the ring over his shoulders, and squeezing him till his ribs were cracking, and his sense was gone, he flung the small crushed body to the ground.

CHAPTER XII.

HOW SIR THOMAS THUMB WAS CARRIED TO FAIRY LAND.

IR THOMAS was not dead, he had but fallen into a deathlike swoon, and it is at such hours, between life and death, that the fairies have power over mankind.

This was the time, as Queen Mab well knew, for obtaining the page on whom she had long cast her eyes,

and speedily she mounted her state-coach, a snail-shell, drawn by bats, and bade Fly Cranion, her charioteer, make quickly for Caerleon.

The wounded knight was lifted up by the most dexterous of the elves, and placed in the coach, which, in the space of one cuckoo's cry, was in Fairy-land, where they laid him on soft cushions covered with the velvet of the purple fleur-de-lys, and anointed his bruises with the healing balm of the ground-ivy. By and by he opened his eyes, and beheld the glittering halls of the fairy palace above him, the walls tapestried with every rich hue from each flower that blows; while the heather-bell,

and lily-bell, and harebells rang out sweet chimes, and Queen Mab sat on her throne playing with a lady-bird, as Queen Guenever played with her lap-dog."

The virtue of the fairy medicaments had at once healed Sir Thomas, and rising, he made his obeisance before the Fairy Queen, rendered her his thanks, but entreated to return to the King and to his office.

"Your thankless office on earth is past," said Mab; "from henceforth you are mine."

"Never!" said the little champion; "I am belted knight, I am Christian man! You have no power to hold me;" and he felt for the cross-handle of his sword; but while he had been boasting, he had let it slip from his side, otherwise the fairies had never borne him away.

Still, at the very word Christian, the bells rang slow and sadly like a knell, the lights flickered dim and blue, and the fairy faces waxed pale.

"You

"Name not such names,” said Queen Mab, hastily. owe us thanks, and somewhat more, for had it not been for us you had surely perished beneath yon traitor's gripe. For seven days you are ours; at the end of that space it will be free to you to choose, whether to become a joyous elf with us, or to return to human sorrows."

"And human hopes," said Sir Thomas; but thereupon the paleness again quivered over the fairy palace, and Queen Mab laid her finger to her lips, and bade her elves bring a refection of the purple grape, the dewberry, and the apricock with honey from the wild bees' nest.48

He was raising his hand to draw the sign of grace over the food, when again Mab prevented him; and when he saw that it would not abide the blessing, he motioned it from him, and sank back on his cushions, where he fell into a sleep.

49

He awoke an hour after sunset, at a bugle call from the clarions of a band of gnats. Queen Mab and all her train were setting forth, each mounted on a gallant steed, that by day

light was but a green polished rush, and a milk-white horse was saddled for Sir Thomas, in right of his knighthood, that he might ride at the right hand of the Queen.50

As he mounted, he gave one sigh to the thought of his own Sleekfoot, but so swift was the motion of these fairy-coursers, that ere his sigh was over, the company had alighted in the open glade of a beauteous forest of overarching trees, here parting so as to leave space for a mead of soft turf, in the midst of which grew a hawthorn bush in full flower, that looked snowy white in the moonlight, while a stream glided along beneath, the moonbeams here and there silvering the water.

A mushroom arose in the centre of the glade, and here was spread the fairy banquet, where the place of honour, a cushion of moss, was reserved for the knight of mortal frame. He had fasted long, and found himself not a little hungry, yet did he refuse to taste of the food, and anxiously did he gaze around for some landmark that might aid him in finding the way home, guided by Arthur's wain, which glittered palely in the moonlight sky.

"Ho! ho!" laughed Robin Goodfellow, perceiving his intent. "This is no forest of your own; you escape us not so easily. This is the wood of Broceliande, with seas between you and Caerleon. Ho! ho! what will King Arthur think? He will say that his trusty page has gone over to the enemy !"

"Torment him not, Hobgoblin, thou lubber," said Queen Mab; "rather let us call on him for some of the music of King Arthur's Court."

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