an two hours after he left Bobby in Queen Margaret's
Chapel that the sergeant turned into the officers' mess-room and tried
to get an orderly to take a message to the captain who had noticed the
little dog in the barracks. He wished to report that Bobby could not be
found, and to be excused to continue the search.

He had to wait by the door while the toast to her Majesty was proposed
and the band in the screened gallery broke into "God Save the Queen";
and when the music stopped the bandmaster came in for the usual
compliments.

The evening was so warm and still, although it was only mid-April, that
a glass-paneled door, opening on the terrace, was set ajar for air. In
the confusion of movement and talk no one noticed a little black mop of
a muzzle that was poked through the aperture. From the outer darkness
Bobby looked in on the score or more of men doubtfully, ready for
instant disappearance on the slightest alarm. Desperate was the
emergency, forlorn the hope that had brought him there. At every turn
his efforts to escape from the Castle had been baffled. He had been
imprisoned by drummer boys and young recruits in the gymnasium, detained
in the hospital, captured in the canteen.

Bobby went through all his pretty tricks for the lads, and then begged
to be let go. Laughed at, romped with, dragged back, thrown into the
swimming-pool, expected to play and perform for them, he rebelled at
last. He scarred the door with his claws, and he howled so dismally
that, hearing an orderly corporal coming, they turned him out in a rough
haste that terrified him. In the old Banqueting Hall on the Palace
Yard, that was used as a hospital and dispensary, he went through that
travesty of joy again, in hope of the reward.

Sharply rebuked and put out of the hospital, at last, because of his
destructive clawing and mournful howling, Bobby dashed across the
Palace Yard and into a crowd of good-humored soldiers who lounged in the
canteen. Rising on his hind legs to beg for attention and indulgence, he
was taken unaware from behind by an admiring soldier who wanted to romp
with him. Quite desperate by that time, he snapped at the hand of his
captor and sprang away into the first dark opening. Frightened by
the man's cry of pain, and by the calls and scuffling search for him
without, he slunk to the farthest corner of a dungeon of the Middle
Ages, under the Royal Lodging.

When the hunt for him ceased, Bobby slipped out of hiding an