“A bow and quiver!” repeated King Stanislaus, and his face grew suddenly grave. “I hope they were not Prince Florimel’s. I am greatly distressed by the fear that some dire mishap has come to him.” His Majesty would have felt very much relieved in mind if he could have known that nothing serious had occurred to the prince.
When like the rest of the Brownies Florimel had gone to seek what information he could he had strayed nearer to the palace than perhaps in prudence he should have done.
With the impetuosity of youth he was ready to storm the palace single-handed, but he realized that such a rash, foolhardy attempt would only bring disaster to the whole band.
So he gazed toward the lights that gleamed from the windows, wondering all the while what Titania was doing at the time, and if Dragonfel was very cruel to her.
He was really helpless just then to exert himself in her behalf, and he turned with a sigh to go back.
The rigors of the hardships through which he had passed pressed heavily, and excessive weariness overcame him. He felt a sudden faintness, and sank upon a grassy bank to rest.
He did not dream that prying eyes for some time had been watching him from an open panel in a fence hard by.
Those keen, malicious orbs followed every movement that Florimel made, and when they noticed him yawn, and rub his lids to keep the sleep from them, they glittered and gleamed with exultation.
Then Florimel’s eyes in spite of him closed, and his tired head sank back in the deep grass.
From the fence the Red Spirit issued like a wraith. Noiselessly he advanced toward the unconscious prince, and bending down began with deft, adroit fingers to remove the quiver slung across his back.