"All right, old fellow," says Alphonso; "but have you any luncheon with you? Never was so hungry in my life!" Prince Prigio had thought of this, and he brought out some cold sausage (to which Alphonso was partial) and some bread, with which the younger prince expressed himself satisfied. Then Prigio went up the hill some way, first warning Alphonso _not_ to sit on his carpet for fear of _accidents_ like that which happened to Benson. In a hollow of the hill, sure enough there was the sword of Enrico, the diamonds of the hilt gleaming in the sun. And there was a little heap of grey ashes. The prince poured a few drops of the water from the Fountain of Lions on them, and up, of course, jumped Enrico, just as Alphonso had done. "Sleepy old chap you are, Enrico," said the prince; "but come on, Alphonso will have finished the grub unless we look smart." So back they came, in time to get their share of what was going; and they drank the Remora's very good health, when Prigio told them about the fight. But neither of them ever knew that they had been dead and done for; because Prigio invented a story that the mountain was enchanted, and that, as long as the Firedrake lived, everyone who came there fell asleep. He did tell them about the flying carpet, however, which of course did not much surprise them, because they had read all about it in the _Arabian Nights_ and other historical works. "And now I'll show you fun!" said Prigio; and he asked them both to take their seats on the carpet, and wished to be in the valley of the Remora. There they were in a moment, among the old knights whom, if you remember, the Remora had frozen into stone. There was quite a troop of them, in all sorts of armour--Greek and Roman, and Knight Templars like Front de Boeuf and Brian du Bois Gilbert--all the brave warriors that had tried to fight the Remora since the world began. Then Prigio gave each of his brothers some of the water in their caps, and told them to go round pouring a drop or two on each frozen knight. And as they did it, lo and behold! each knight came alive, with his horse, and lifted his sword and shouted: "Long live Prince Prigio!" in Greek, Latin, Egyptian, French, German, and Spanish,--all of which the prince perfectly understood, and spoke like a native. So he marshalled them in order, and sent them off to ride to Falkenstein and cry: "Prince Prigio is coming!" Off they went, the horses' hoofs clattering, banners flying, sunshine glittering on the spear-points. Off they rode to Falkenstein; and when the king saw them come galloping in, I can tell you he had no more notion of hanging Prigio. {Riding off to Falkenstein: p136.jpg} CHAPTER XVIII. _The Very Last_.