“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.”
A few minutes more, and they were safely packed into a carriage which drove them back to Ravensnest, and Aunt Emma was saying good-bye to them.
“Next time, I shall come and see you, Milly,” she said, as she kissed Milly’s little sleepy face. “Don’t forget me till then.”