y," remarked Mr. King, scowling quite glumly from
beneath the rim of his panama. "Hello!" His eyes brightened and his hat
came off with a switch. "There's the Prince!"

"My word," ejaculated Mr. Hobbs, and forthwith began to ransack his
pockets for the band which said he was from Cook's.

Farther up the glen, in fact at the very door of the Witch's hut, were
gathered a small but rather distinguished portion of the royal
household. It was not difficult to recognise the little Prince. He was
standing beside John Tullis; and it is not with a desire to speak ill of
his valour that we add: he was clutching the slackest part of that
gentleman's riding breeks with an earnestness that betrayed extreme
trepidation. Facing them, on the stone door-step, was the Witch herself,
a figure to try the courage of a time-tried hero, let alone the
susceptibilities of a small boy in knickers. Behind Tullis and the
Prince were several ladies and gentlemen, all in riding garments and all
more or less ill at ease.

Truxton King's heart swelled suddenly; all the world grew bright again
for him. Next to the tall figure of Colonel Quinnox, of the Royal Guard,
was the slim, entrancing lady of his most recent dreams--the Prince's
aunt! The lady of the grotto! The lady of the goldfish conspiracy!

The Countess Marlanx, tall and exquisite, was a little apart from the
others, with Baron Dangloss and young Count Vos Engo--whom Truxton was
ready to hate because he was a recognised suitor for the hand of the
slim, young person in grey. He thought he had liked her beyond increase
in the rajah silk, but now he confessed to himself that he was mistaken.
He liked her better in a grey riding habit. It struck him sharply, as he
sat there in the saddle, that she would be absolutely and adorably
faultless in point lace or calico, in silk or gingham, low-neck or high.
He was for riding boldly up to this little group, but a very
objectionable lieutenant barred the way, supported in no small measure
by the defection of Mr. Hobbs, who announced in a hoarse, agitated
whisper that he's "be 'anged if he'd let any man make a fool of him
twice over."

The way was made easy by the intervention of the alert young woman in
grey. She caught sight of the restricted adventurers--or one of them, to
be quite accurate--and, after speeding a swift smile of astonishment,
turned quickly to Prince Bobby.

A moment later, the tall stranger with the sun-browned face was the
cent