n the
world."

"Of course," went on Hyacinth, half to herself, "she might get the
people on her side, the ones that she's bribed. And if she did----"

"That's all right, that's all right," said Udo grandly. "Leave her to
me. There's something about your watercress that inspires me to do
terrible deeds. I feel a new--whatever I am."

One gathers reluctantly from this speech that Udo had partaken too
freely.

"Of course," said Hyacinth, "I could write to my father, who might
send some of his men back, but I shouldn't like to do that. I
shouldn't like him to think that I had failed him."

"Extraordinary how I take to these things," said Udo, allowing himself
a little more room on the seat. "Perhaps I am a rabbit after all. I
wonder what I should look like behind wire netting." He took another
bite and went on, "I wonder what I should do if I saw a ferret. I
suppose you haven't got a ferret on you, Princess?"

"I beg your pardon, Prince? I'm afraid I was thinking of something
else. What did you say?"

"Nothing, nothing. One's thoughts run on." He put his hand out for
the plate, and discovered that it was empty. He settled himself more
comfortably, and seemed to be about to sink into slumber when his
attention was attracted suddenly by the knot in his tail. He picked
it up and began lazily to undo it. "I wish I could lash my tail," he
murmured; "mine seems to be one of the tails that don't lash." He
began very gingerly to feel the tip of it. "I wonder if I've got a
sting anywhere." He closed his eyes, muttering, "Sting Countess neck,
sting all over neck, sting lots stings," and fell peacefully asleep.

It was a disgraceful exhibition. Roger Scurvilegs tries to slur it
over; talks about the great heat of the sun, and the notorious effect
of even one or two watercress sandwiches on an empty on a man who has
had nothing to eat for several days. This is to palter with the
facts. The effect of watercress sandwiches upon Udo's arrangements
(however furnished) we have all just seen for ourselves; but what
Roger neglects to lay stress upon is the fact that it was the effect
of twenty-one or twenty-two watercress sandwiches. There is no
denying that it was a disgraceful exhibition. If I had been there, I
should certainly have written to his father about it.

Hyacinth looked at him uneasily. Her first feeling was one of
sympathy. "Poor fellow," she thought, "he's had a hard time lately."
But it is a