At this Katie was so terrified that she did not know what to say. The only thought she had was that "Auntie" had gone raving mad. She knew that Mr. Russell was alive and well, for she had seen him only a short time before. The old joke about marrying "His Majesty" had been almost forgotten by her; and to find "Auntie" now as full as ever of that nonsensical piece of ambition was inexpressibly shocking to her. Yet she did not know what to say. To disabuse her seemed impossible. She did not dare to tell her that Mr. Russell was alive; it might be dangerous. "Auntie" had so set her mind upon this insane project that any attempt to thwart her would certainly draw down vengeance upon the head of the one who should dare to attempt it. That one certainly was not Katie. She liked, as far as possible, to have things move on smoothly around her; and so the only thought she now had was to chime in with "Auntie's" fancy; to humor her, as one would humor an insane person, and to hope that something might turn up in time to prevent anything "dreadful." In this state of mind Katie went on talking with "Auntie." But "Auntie" was hard to humor; she was altogether too grand and lofty for little Katie. In fancy she already wore a crown, and talked of the throne, the sceptre, and the majesty of Spain as though they had always been her private property. "I've been two or three days," said she, "with 'His Majesty.' He has been most kind. His royal will is that I should wear this hat. Do you think it is becoming? Under other circumstances I should be talked about, I know; but where the welfare of Spain is concerned, I don't care for public opinion. When I am seated on the throne all will be explained." At such a torrent as this poor Katie could only take refuge in silence. CHAPTER LIX. HOW A SURPRISE-PARTY IS VERY MUCH SURPRISED. During these remarks "His Majesty" had been fumbling, with a thoughtful expression, in his coat-pocket, as though trying to extricate something, the bulk of which prevented it from being drawn forth without some difficulty; and as he tugged and fumbled he began to speak. "I came here," said he, "on a surprise-party, an' begorra I niver was so surprised in my loife, so I wasn't. An' be the same token, as it's a long march we've had, an' as we've got to wait here an hour or so, an' as we're on the ave av an attack an' may niver live to see another day, shure there's ivery raison in loife"--and with this he fumbled still more vigorously in his pocket--"why"--he gave a thrust and a pull--"why we should all wet our whistles"--he gave a series of violent twists--"wid a dhrop av somethin' warrum;" and with this he succeeded in getting the object of his attempts extricated from his pocket, and proudly displayed before the eyes of the company a black junk-bottle.