The lady's skirt was green, green as the leaves of spring, her cloak was of fine velvet. Her long black hair hung round her as a veil, and her brow was adorned with gems.

By her side were seven greyhounds, other seven she led by a leash. From her neck hung a horn and in her belt was thrust a sheath of arrows.

It seemed as though the lady gay were on her way to the hunting-field.

Now she would blow her horn until the echoes answered merrily, merrily; now she would trill her songs, until the wild birds answered gaily, gaily.

Thomas of Ercildoune gazed, and Thomas of Ercildoune listened, and his heart gave a great bound as he said to himself, 'Now, by my troth, the lady is none of mortal birth. She is none other than Mary, the Queen of Heaven.'

Then up sprang Thomas from the little woodland brook and away sped he over the mountain-side, that he might, so it were possible, reach her as she rode by the Eildon tree, which tree grew on the side of the Eildon hills.

'For certainly,' said Thomas, 'if I do not speak with that lady bright, my heart will break in three.'

And in sooth, as she dismounted under the Eildon tree, Thomas met the lady, and kneeling low beneath the greenwood, he spoke, thus eager was he to win a benison from the Queen of Heaven.

'Lovely lady, have pity upon me, even as thou art mother of the Child who died for me.'

'Nay now, nay now,' said the lady gay, 'no Queen of Heaven am I.

I come but from the country thou dost call Elfland, though queen of that country in truth I am. I do but ride to the hunt with my hounds as thou mayest hear.' And she blew on her horn merrily, merrily.

Now Thomas did not wish to lose sight of so fair a lady.

'Go not back to Elfland; stay by my side under the Eildon tree,'

he pleaded.

'Nay,' said the Queen of Elfland, 'should I stay with thee, a mortal, my fairness would fade as fades a leaf.'

But Thomas did not believe her, and, for he was a bold man, he drew near and kissed the rosy lips of the Elfland Queen.

Alas, alas! no sooner had he kissed her than the lady fair changed into a tired old woman.

She no longer wore a skirt of beautiful green, but a long robe of hodden grey covered her from head to foot. The light, bright as the summer sun that had shone around her, faded, and her face grew pale and thin. Her eyes no longer danced for joy, they gazed dull and dim before her. And on one side of her head the long black hair had changed to grey.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Under the Eildon tree Thomas met the lady]

It was a sight to make one sad, and Thomas, as he gazed, cried, as well he might, 'Alas, alas!'

'Thyself hast sealed thy doom, Thomas,' cried the lady. 'Thou must come with me to Elfland. Haste thou therefore to bid farewell to sun and moon, to trees and flowers, for, come weal, come woe, thou must e'en serve me for a twelvemonth.'

Then Thomas fell upon his knees and prayed to Mary mild that she would have pity upon him.

But when he arose the Queen of Elfland bade him mount behind her, and Thomas could do nought save obey her command.

Her steed flew forward, the Eildon hills opened, and horse and riders were in the caverns of the earth.

Thomas felt darkness close around him. On they rode, on and yet on; swift as the wind they rode. Water reached to his knee, above and around him was darkness, and ever and anon the booming of the waves.

For three days they rode. Then Thomas grew faint with hunger and cried, 'Woe is me, I shall die for lack of food.'

As he cried, the darkness grew less thick, and they were riding forward into light. Bright sunlight lay around them as they rode toward a garden. It was a garden such as Thomas had never seen on earth.

All manner of fruit was there, apples and pears, dates and damsons, figs and currants, all ripe, ready to be plucked. In this beautiful garden, too, there were birds, nightingales building their nests, gay popinjays flitting hither and thither among the trees, thrushes singing their sweetest songs.

But these Thomas neither saw nor heard. Thomas had eyes only for the fruit, and he thrust forth his hand to pluck it, so hungry, so faint was he.

'Let be the fruit, Thomas,' cried the lady, 'let be the fruit.

For dost thou pluck it, thy soul will go to an evil place, nor shall it escape until the day of doom. Leave the fruit, Thomas, and come lay thy head upon my knee, and I will show thee a sight fairer than ever mortal hath seen. And Thomas, being fain to rest, lay down as he was bid, and closed his eyes.

'Now open thine eyes, Thomas,' said the lady, 'and thou shalt see three roads before thee. Narrow and straight is the first, and hard is it to walk there, for thorns and briars grow thick, and spread themselves across the pathway. Straight up over the mountain-tops on into the city of G.o.d runs this straight and narrow road. It is named the path of Goodness. And ever will the thorns p.r.i.c.k and the briars spread, for few there be who tread far on this rough and p.r.i.c.kly road.

'Look yet again, Thomas,' said the lady. And Thomas saw stretching before him a long white road. It ran smooth and broad across a gra.s.sy plain, and roses blossomed, and lilies bloomed by the wayside. 'That,' said the lady, 'is named the path of Evil, and many there be who saunter along its broad and easy surface.'

Thomas said no word, but lay looking at the third pathway as it twisted and twined in and out amid the cool, green nooks of the woodland. Tiny rills caught the sunlight and tossed it back to the cold, grey rock down which they trickled; tiny ferns waved a welcome from their sheltered crevices. 'This,' said the lady, 'this is the fair road to Elfland, and along its beauteous way must thou and I ride this very night. But speak thou to none, Thomas, when thou comest to Elfland. Though strange the sights you see, the sounds you hear, speak thou to none, for never mortal returns to his own country does he speak one word in the land of Elfs.'

Then once again Thomas mounted behind the lady, and hard and fast did they ride until they saw before them a castle. It stood on a high hill, fair and strong, and as it came in sight the lady reined in her white steed.

'See, Thomas, see!' she cried, 'here is the castle that is mine and his who is king of this country. None like it is there, for beauty or for strength, in the land from which thou comest. My lord is waited on by knights, of whom there are thirty in this castle. A n.o.ble lord is mine, nor would he wish to hear how thou wert bold and kissed me under the Eildon tree. Bear thou in mind, Thomas, that thou speak no word, nay, not though thou art commanded to tell thy tale. I will say to my courtiers that I took from thee the power of speech ere ever we crossed the sea.'

Thomas listened, and dared not speak. Thomas stood still, still as a stone, and gazed upon the lady, and lo! a great wonder came to pa.s.s.

Once more the lady shone bright as the sun upon a summer's morn, once more she wore her skirt of green, green as the leaves of spring, and her velvet cloak hung around her shoulders. Her eyes flashed and her long hair waved once more black in the breeze.

And Thomas, looking at his own garments, started to see that they too were changed. For he was now clothed in a suit of beautiful soft cloth, and on his feet were a pair of green velvet shoes.

Clear and loud the lady fair blew her horn, clear and loud, and forward she rode toward the castle gate.

Then down to welcome their queen trooped all the fairy court, and kneeling low before her, they did her reverence.

Into the hall she stepped, Thomas following close at her side, silent as one who had no power to speak.

They crowded around him, the knights and squires; they asked him questions about his own country, yet no word dared Thomas answer.

Then arose great revelry and feasting in the castle of the Elfin Queen.

Harps and fiddles played their wildest and most gladsome tunes, knights and ladies danced, and all went merry as a marriage bell.

Across the hall Thomas looked, and there a strange sight met his glance. Thirty harts and as many deer lay on the oaken floor, and bending over them, their knives in their hands, were elfin cooks, making ready for the feast. Thomas wondered if it were but a dream, so strange seemed the sights he saw.

Gaily pa.s.sed the days, and Thomas had no wish to leave the strange Elfland. But a day came when the queen said to Thomas, 'Now must thou begone from Elfland, Thomas, and I, myself, will ride with you back to your own country.'

'Nay now, but three days have I dwelt in thy realm,' said Thomas, 'with but little cheer. Give me leave to linger yet a little while.'

'Indeed, indeed, Thomas,' cried the Queen of Elfland, 'thou hast been with me for seven long years and more, but now thou must away ere the dawn of another day. To-morrow there comes an evil spirit from the land of darkness to our fair realm. He comes each year to claim our most favoured and most courteous guest, and it will be thou, Thomas, thou, whom he will wish to carry to his dark abode. But we tarry not his coming. By the light of the moon we ride to-night to the land of thy birth.'

Once again the lady fair mounted her white palfrey, and Thomas rode behind until she brought him safe back to the Eildon tree.

There, under the leaves of the greenwood, while the little birds sang their lays, the Queen of Elfland said farewell to Thomas.

'Farewell, Thomas, farewell, I may no longer stay with thee.'