But Wild Robin’s closed eyes saw nothing: his sleep-sealed ears heard nothing. The Queen of the fairies dismounted, stole up to him, and laid her soft fingers on his cheeks.
“Here is a little man after my ain heart,” said she: “I like his knitted brow, and the downward curve of his lips. Knights, lift him gently, set him on a red-roan steed, and waft him away to Fairy-land.”
Wild Robin was lifted as gently as a brown leaf borne by the wind; he rode as softly as if the red-roan steed had been saddled with satin, and shod with velvet. It even may be that the faint tinkling of the bridle-bells lulled him into a deeper slumber; for when he awoke it was morning in Fairy-land.
Robin sprang from his mossy couch, and stared about him. Where was he? He rubbed his eyes, and looked again. Dreaming, no doubt; but what meant all these nimble little beings bustling hither and thither in hot haste? What meant these pearl-bedecked caves, scarcely larger than swallow’s nests? these green canopies, overgrown with moss? He pinched himself, and gazed again. Countless flowers nodded to him, and seemed, like himself, on tip-toe with curiosity, he thought. He beckoned one of the busy, dwarfish little brownies toward him.
“I ken I’m talking in my sleep,” said the lad; “but can ye tell me what dell is this, and how I chanced to be in it?”
The brownie might or might not have heard; but, at any rate, he deigned no reply, and went on with his task, which was pounding seeds in a stone mortar.
“Am I Robin Telfer, of the Valley of Yarrow, and yet canna shake aff my silly dreams?”
“Weel, my lad,” quoth the Queen of the Fairies, giving him a smart tap with her wand, “stir yersel’, and be at work; for naebody idles in Elf-land.”
Bewildered Robin ventured a look at the little Queen. By daylight she seemed somewhat sleepy and tired; and was withal so tiny, that he might almost have taken her between his thumb and finger, and twirled her above his head; yet she poised herself before him on a mullein-stalk and looked every inch a queen. Robin found her gaze oppressive; for her eyes were hard, and cold, and gray, as if they had been little orbs of granite.
“Get ye to work, Wild Robin!”