It was afternoon when he came to the willow-stump throne and sat down upon it. The sky was thronged with stately clouds--phantom mountains, with castles on their tops--castles wherein Raymond's fancy had often dwelt. The air was soft and warm, sweet with fragrance of lilac and apple-blossoms, and bright with bird-songs. The bending willows swept the river surface with slender green ringers, startling the trout and grayling that quivered and darted in the pools and shallows. Life and beauty and happiness were everywhere; and far to the eastward, piled high against the horizon, rose the white marble walls and towers of mighty London. They looked less real than the clouds. Sunlight sparkled on the gilded domes, and cast afar the tender purple shadows of royal palaces. And amidst green meadow-banks, and past gleaming wharves populous with delicate masts and rainbow sails, swept the azure curves of the translucent Thames towards the fair city. London was, indeed, at this time, the most magnificent city in the world; and Camelot, which was built hundreds of years afterwards, was never anything to compare with it. What wonder, then, if Raymond eyed its distant splendours with some regret, remembering that they were lost to him for ever? 'But I have Rosamund,' he murmured to himself. 'So much the more fool you!' spoke a metallic voice close behind him. Raymond looked round. Whence had come that grotesque figure which was standing within a couple of yards of him, and which gazed at him with an expression at once so quizzical and so penetrating? Had he ever seen it before? No--and yet--had he? The figure was that of a man about three feet high, with a body shaped like a sack of potatoes, supported by short and crooked legs that bent beneath its weight. The arms were so long that the hands (like great curved claws) hung down nearly to the ground; and the fingers made a continual movement as if clutching something. The head of this creature was large, and had no neck; the nose was aquiline, the eyes bright and sharp. On the chin was a pointed beard, and a pair of long moustachios curled up over the cheekbones. The creature was dressed in rich and costly clothes, which, however, bore an unaccountable resemblance to Raymond's own threadbare attire. On the head was a yellow cap, apparently made of woven gold, which glowed and sparkled in the sunlight. Certainly there was something familiar about that cap and those moustachios! 'Where did you come from?' Raymond asked. 'I was here before you,' replied the dwarf. 'I saw no one.' 'People do overlook me sometimes,' rejoined the other, with a chuckle; 'but they are more apt to spend their lives in trying to find me. Once in a great while I appear without being asked--as I do now!' 'Where have I seen you before?' 'Ask yourself.' 'Who are you?' The dwarf made a low bow. 'I am an Appanage of Royalty!' said he.