young and pretty, but she also
looked severe.

"Is this true, Augustin?" she asked, sitting down by the fire.

"Yes, mother," said I, arrested in my flight toward bed.

"You refused to obey the Baroness?"

"Yes. I'm king now."

"And threw your shoe at her?"

"The archbishop said----" I began.

"Be quiet," said my mother, and she turned her head and listened to
Krak, who began to whisper in her ear. A moment later she turned to me.

"You must do as you are told," she said; "and you must apologize to the
Baroness."

"I'd have taken them off if she had asked me," I said, "but she ordered
me."

"She has a right to order you."

"Is she God?" I asked, pointing scornfully at Krak. Really the
archbishop must bear some of the responsibility.

Krak whispered again; again my mother turned to me.

"Will you apologize, Augustin?" she said.

"No," said I stubbornly.

Krak whispered again. I heard my mother say, with a little laugh, "But
to-day, Baroness!" Then she sighed and looked round at me.

"Do apologize, Augustin," said she.

"I'll apologize to you, not to her," I said.

She looked at the Baroness, then at me, then back to the Baroness; then
she smiled and sighed.

"I suppose so. He must learn it. But not much to-night, Baroness. Just
enough to--to show him."

Krak came toward me; a moment later I occupied a position which, to my
lively discomfort, I had filled once or twice before in my short life,
but which I had not supposed that I should fill again after what the
archbishop had said. I set my teeth to endure; I was full of
bewilderment, surprise, and anger. The archbishop had played me terribly
false; the Arabian Nights were no less delusive. Krak was as unmoved and
business-like as usual. I was determined not to cry--not to-night. I was
not very hard tried; almost directly my mother said, "That will do."
There was a pause; no doubt Krak's face expressed a surprised protest.
"Yes, that's enough to-day," said my mother, and she added, "Get into
bed, Augustin. You must learn to be an obedient boy before you can be a
good king."

The moment I was released I ran and leaped into bed, hiding my face
under the clothes. I heard my mother come and say, "Won't you kiss me?"
but I was very angry; I did not understand why they made me a king, and
then beat me, because I behaved like all the kings I had been told or
read about. Moreover, I had begun to cry now, and I would have been
killed sooner than let K