A handsome lad once sought a brave and noble knight, asking leave to serve him as page. The knight was greatly charmed by the graceful manners of the young lad, and was pleased with his unusual request. He granted the lad’s prayer, and never once did he have cause to regret it.

The little page did every duty with great cheerfulness and skill. He was so devoted to his master that he was able to foresee almost every wish. It was not long before he had won his master’s love, and the two became constant comrades.

The years passed swiftly by. The knight had never before been so happy, and never so successful. Everything seemed to turn out just as he wished it.[14] Nothing had gone wrong since the day that the little page had entered his gate.

One day as the two were riding along the banks of the Rhine, they noticed a band of robbers coming toward them. These men had often sought to harm the good knight. The band was so large that it was easy to see that the brave knight could make no headway against them. There seemed to be no way of escape.

“Would to God,” cried the brave man, “that you were safe within my castle walls, my faithful little page! We are lost, my lad, but we must sell our lives as dearly as possible. Let us die like heroes. Do you get behind me, my page, and, if possible, I bid you flee.”

“My dear master,” replied the little page, “follow me. I will show you a way to escape. Follow me.”

The page put spurs to his horse and galloped along the river bank. Suddenly he turned the unwilling steed directly into the rushing stream.

[15]“Rash boy, come back!” called the knight, dashing forward with the hope of overtaking the daring page. “Better die fighting bravely than perish miserably in the river. Come back, my page, come back!”

“Have no fear, my dear master, but follow me,” still cried the little page.

The sound of his voice rose so confidently above the noise of the wind and waves that the knight obeyed, hardly knowing what he was doing. A few minutes later the horses had found a firm footing in the river. Guided by the faithful little page, the knight safely forded the stream. He reached the farther shore just as his enemies came down to the water’s edge.

The angry robbers urged their steeds into the deep water, but no trace of ford could be found and they were forced to give up the pursuit.

The knight’s love for the little page was greatly increased after this, and the[16] little page, too, seemed to love his master more and more. He was only happy when in his master’s presence or when doing some errand for him.

A short time after this happy escape from death the knight’s beautiful wife became suddenly ill. The knight loved her as he loved his own life, and was in great sorrow for fear that she might die.

Many wise doctors were called to her bedside, but they could do nothing. They declared that there was only one thing that would cure her—the milk of a lioness. That could not be obtained because there were no lions in the country.

The rumor of this strange remedy spread rapidly through the castle. It came to the ears of the faithful little page. He at once sprang to his feet and rushed out of the hall. An hour later, before any change had taken place in the lady’s condition, the page returned to the castle.

He went directly to the bedside of his mistress and sat down, flushed and panting.[17] But in his hand he bore a cup full of the milk of a lioness, which was given to the patient at once. In a few moments the color crept back into the lady’s pale cheeks. A new light came into her eyes and she sank into a sweet sleep. When she awoke she was fully cured. All her strength had come back, and she was very happy.

Then the good knight went to seek the little page. He poured out to him his thanks. He could not say enough to express what he felt for his faithful servant. He wished to know all about it.

“Tell me, my sweet, faithful page,” he urged, “how you were able to get this remedy, which all my wealth could not procure.”

“My noble master,” replied the page, “I knew that a lioness was lying with her cubs in an Arabian den, and so I—”

“Arabia!” exclaimed the knight, interrupting the page, “Arabia! Did you find[18] your way there and back in one short hour?”

“Yes, my dear master,” replied the little page, “that is the truth.” And he fixed his beautiful, truthful eyes on his master’s pale, wondering face.

“My lad, who are you then?” suddenly asked the knight, a nameless fear gnawing at his heart. “Who are you? Speak; tell me everything.”

“Master, my noble master, ask not who I am nor whence I came,” cried the little page, sinking down at the knight’s feet, and raising his beseeching hands. “Do not ask me. Let me remain by your side, my good master. Remember that no harm has come to you since I have been in your service.”

“My page, stop this pleading and tell me what I ask. Who are you?” continued the knight, paying no attention to the little page’s beseeching look.

“A spirit, O my master, a spirit of light, who for you and yours left a home in the[19] realms above. But now I must leave you, my master. Farewell; farewell.”

“Lad, lad, my sweet lad, leave me not. Stay with me still,” cried the knight. “Ask what reward you please, but do not forsake me. Remain, my faithful little page, for I cannot live without you.”

“You have asked me what I am and whence I came, and have mentioned a reward. The charm, my dear master, is broken, and now I must leave you. In return for the things that I have done for you so cheerfully and so lovingly, I ask you to place a silver bell in the midst of the forest. Its tinkling sound may guide many weary travelers and help them to find their way home. Dedicate the bell to God and to his angelic host, O master; and now receive my last farewell.”

The little page suddenly vanished. No one saw him leave the hall nor pass through the castle gates, and no trace of him was ever found. The angel page had faded from mortal sight and returned to[20] his home above. He had gone back to live with spirits as good and faithful and pure as himself.

The knight at once had the silver bell placed in the forest. But he could not forget his faithful page. He sought for him everywhere, and when at evening the silver tones of the little bell rang out in the quiet air they seemed to him like the words of an angel, and filled his heart with restless desire.

The noble knight seemed to lose all interest in life. His strength began to fail; his step grew slow and feeble; and one day when the shades of night were falling and the first tinkle of the little bell came to his ear, he softly murmured “My page, my faithful little page”; and he went to live with the spirit he had learned to love so well.