ience, and make conspicuous the virtue of a heart that would not
take "no." Also he had certain fireworks up his sleeve whose brightness,
when they were let off, would penetrate even to the most cloistral
abode--he had, that is to say, his Royal Commission to work on, and the
preparation of a minority report which could not fail, when it was
divulged, to startle the world. He was even beginning to have hopes that
three or four others would sign it; for to be in a minority with royalty
has its charm.

But though he still believed in the future he was for the moment in very
solitary plight. His Countess, to whom alone he could go for comfort in
his grief, had cried over him and kissed him with all the motherly
kindness imaginable; and then, disturbed by the very depth of her pity
and afraid of what might come of it--her heart being but tender
clay--had suddenly packed up her traps and flown, leaving, if you would
like to know, most of her jewels behind her. And Max, sending after her
with his own hands those souvenirs of the past, had added a few tender
words of regret and thanks which to her dying day that good woman
cherished and said her prayers over.

III

The Thanksgiving was a very splendid affair; but the people who liked it
least were the piebald ponies. Never in their lives did they so narrowly
escape a hugging at the hands of the great unwashed; and this unwelcome
demonstration as directed against them was quite without reason or
excuse. They had not had brain-fever, or bones put back into place, or
made miraculous recoveries from anything; and they practically said as
much when resenting the liberties that were taken with them. All they
knew was that they were doing rather more than their usual tale of work;
and in consequence they were a little cross. Nothing serious happened,
however, and while waiting at the Cathedral doors they were given sugar
which quieted them down wonderfully.

Inside the Cathedral all that was great and good and noble in Jingalo
had assembled to celebrate the occasion; and in its midst, still looking
rather frail and delicate after his illness, sat the King with the Royal
Family. To right and left of him sat judges, bishops, lords, ladies,
members of the House of Laity, staff officers, diplomatists, mayors, and
corporations, heads of public departments, all very gorgeously arrayed
in their official uniforms; and there amongst the rest sat a compact
bunch of prominent Free Churchm