the terrace steps into a garden ablaze
with tulip beds in geometrical patterns; at the foot ran a yew hedge,
and beyond it, in a side-walk, they came upon a scullion boy chasing a
sulphur-yellow butterfly. The Grand Duke forgot his fine manners, and
dropped his bride's hand to join in the chase; but the boy no sooner
caught sight of him than he fled with a cry of dismay and popped into an
arbour. There, a minute later, the bride and bridegroom found him
stooping over a churn and stirring with might and main.

"What are you stirring, boy?" asked Ferdinand.

"Praised be the Virgin!" said the boy, "I _believe_ it's an ice-pudding
for the banquet. But they shouldn't have put the ice-puddings in the
same arbour as the fireworks; for, if your Highness will
allow me to say so, you can't expect old heads on young shoulders."

"Are the fireworks in our honour too?"

"Why, of course," the scullion answered; "everything is in your honour
to-day."

This simplified matters wonderfully. The children passed on through a
gate in the garden wall and came upon a clearing beside a woodstack; and
there stood a caravan with its shafts in the air. A woman sat on the
tilt at the back, reading, and every now and then glancing towards two
men engaged in deadly combat in the middle of the clearing, who shouted
as they thrust at one another with long swords.

The little Princess, who, except when driven in her state-coach to the
Cathedral, had never before strayed outside the garden, turned very pale
and caught at her husband's hand. But he stepped forward boldly.

"Now yield thee, caitiff, or thine hour has come!" shouted one of the
fighters and flourished his blade.

"Sooner I'll die than tum te tum te tum!" the other answered quite as
fiercely.

"Slave of thine become," said the woman from the caravan.

"Thank you. Sooner I'll die than slave of thine become!" He laid about
him with fresh vigour.

"Put down your swords," commanded Ferdinand.

"And now tell me who you are."

"We are Valentine and Orson," they answered.

"Indeed?" Ferdinand had heard of them, and shook hands affably.
"Then I'm very glad to make your acquaintance."

"And," said they, "we are rehearsing for the performance at the Palace
to-night in your Highnesses' honour."

"Oh, so this is in our honour too?"

"To be sure," said the woman; "and I am to dress up as Hymen and speak
the Epilogue in a saffron robe. It has some good lines; for instance--"