The magician invited Sybil to take a seat. He then proceeded to place on his head a crown, woven of vines of magical virtues. He took from the cupboard some singular-looking vessels, and mixed in them various powders and liquids. Then, pouring all their contents into a copper pot, he placed it on the coals, seated himself on a stone near it, drew his harp in front of him, and motioned to Sybil to stand before it. He looked so pleasantly upon her she did not feel afraid, but her heart beat fast, not knowing what fearful thing she might see. She saw nothing whatever but the harp, and the old man; for, as soon as the clouds of fragrant white smoke that poured out from the brazier, had completely enveloped the two, the magician swept his fingers over his harp, and began to sing. Then Sybil forgot everything else, for his chant was of Maghar. [Illustration: SYBIL AND THE MAGICIAN.] He sang of the great deeds Maghar had done in the battle, and how he had made himself famous. He was the last prisoner taken by the Infidels; and was now confined in a castle several leagues distant. The Infidel army was there encamped. They would like to slay Maghar outright, but were afraid of the vengeance of the Christian armies near them if they murdered a man held in such esteem. He was at present undisturbed, but the probability was that, after a time, they would decide to starve him to death, and give out word that he had died from sickness. His sister had thus a little time in which to work to save him. Here the song ended, and the weeping girl begged the great magician to save her brother. This he said was not in his power. She must find a good fairy, and make it her friend. The small creature could get into the castle, see her brother, and, together, they could devise a way of escape. He might, perhaps, be able to help them then. He told her what roads to follow to reach the castle; and, assuring her that such a good girl would surely find a good fairy to assist her in her trouble, he dismissed her with his blessing. That very day Christern and Sybil set out for the castle. They reached the place after three days’ journey. They told no one what their errand was in that part of the country; and there were so many homeless people in the land that their appearance excited no surprise. Christern soon found employment among the wood-cutters, and fitted up a deserted hut as a temporary dwelling. But though they could, every day, look upon the walls of the castle in which Maghar was confined, they seemed no nearer to him than before. He was in the hands of the cruel infidels, and where were there any fairies? There were plenty in that part of the country, the wood-cutters said, which, at first, was encouraging. But, on inquiry, it turned out that not one of them had ever seen a fairy, or knew anybody who ever had seen one. Sybil was in despair as the days went by, and she blamed her friend, the magician, that he had given her no help, after all.