f Euralia, and that my whiskers fly over his royal tent as a
symbol of his victory." He winked at the Chancellor and added, "It
might as well get about that some one had stolen my Magic Sword that
evening."

The Chancellor was speechless with admiration and approval of the
plan. Like his brother of Euralia, he too was longing to get home
again. The war had arisen over a personal insult to the King. If the
King was no longer King, why should the war go on?

"I think," said the future swineherd, "that I shall send a Note over
to the King of Euralia, telling him my decision. To-night, when it is
dark, I shall steal away and begin my new life. There seems to be no
reason why the people should not go back to their homes to-morrow. By
the way, that guard outside there knows that I wasn't killed last
night; that's rather awkward."

"I think," said the Chancellor, who was already picturing his return
home, and was not going to be done out of it by a common sentry, "I
think I could persuade him that you _were_ killed last night."

"Oh, well, then, that's all right." He drew a ring from his finger.
"Perhaps this will help him to be persuaded. Now leave me while I
write to the King of Euralia."

It was a letter which Merriwig was decidedly glad to get. It announced
bluntly that the war was over, and added that the King of Barodia
proposed to abdicate. His son would rule in his stead, but he was a
harmless fool, and the King of Euralia need not bother about him. The
King would be much obliged if he would let it get about that the
whiskers had been won in a fair fight; this would really be more to
the credit of both of them. Personally he was glad to be rid of the
things, but one has one's dignity. He was now retiring into private
life, and if it were rumoured abroad that he had been killed by the
King of Euralia matters would be much more easy to arrange.

Merriwig slept late after his long night abroad, and he found this
Note waiting for him when he awoke. He summoned the Chancellor at
once.

"What have you done about those--er--trophies?" he asked.

"They are fluttering from your flagstaff, sire, at this moment."

"Ah! And what do my people say?"

"They are roaring with laughter, sire, at the whimsical nature of the
jest."

"Yes, but what do they say?"

"Some say that your Majesty, with great cunning, ventured privily in
the night and cut them off while he slept; others, that with great
bravery you d