nly about a hundred and sixty yards; a deep gully
lay between, and on either side of the approach were beds of tall
rushes.

King Sidney addressed his ball for some time in agonising indecision
before he finally drove off. A cloud of sand rose; the ball was nowhere
to be seen, and, taught by experience, he looked behind for it.

"Jolly good shot!" cried Clarence. "Right on the green!"

"Is it, my boy?" said the King. "I can't see it there myself."

"No more can I," Clarence owned, "but I bet you what you like you're on
the pretty, anyway. Your drive, Marshal."

The Marshal smote a mighty blow, and his ball likewise vanished.
Clarence was of opinion that it had gone over the boundary, but the
Marshal was so certain that it was on the green that he declined to
search for it.

"Funny," said Clarence disappointedly, as they neared the pin, "I don't
see your ball anywhere, Pater. Nor yet the Marshal's."

"I fancy mine isn't very far away, my boy," said the King hopefully.

One of the Courtiers who had gone to the hole, called out to say that he
could see a ball marked with a Royal Crown wedged in by the pin.

"By George, Guv'nor!" cried Clarence, "you've holed it in one!"

"Ah," said King Sidney, "I _thought_ I'd got the right direction."

But the next moment both of them were depressed by the announcement that
the Marshal's ball had also landed in the hole. The Courtier had
naturally mentioned his Sovereign's achievement first, but there could
be no possible doubt that the Marshal had succeeded in equalling it.

To have holed out at a hundred and sixty yards is not by any means an
unprecedented feat, but that two players should have done it in
succession was at least a rather remarkable coincidence. It was a severe
disappointment to the King, who had serious doubts of his own ability to
repeat such a performance.

The next hole was a long one, some six hundred yards, over undulating
land with patches of bog; the green was on a hillock protected by
artfully devised bunkers, and the approach was full of difficulties.

The Marshal was given the honour, and, as before, none could follow the
flight of his ball, though he declared with the greatest confidence that
it was straight for the green. King Sidney's drive did not look very
promising, but Clarence assured him that it was probably a longer one
than he thought.

But neither player could locate his ball as they trudged on, and, though
it seemed unlikely that