’’E ’s a poor sort o’ creechure sometimes, be Bob Reid,’ said Clinch sententiously. Tom was busy picking out the most showy dress he could find, and attiring himself therein. ’’E often doan’t seem to know when ’e’s in luck. What’s these yer fine things sent for if we ain’t t’ wear ’em? Take what Providence sends ye, an’ be thankful! Them’s my sentiments.’ As he spoke he selected a coloured hat with a very high crown and poised it on his head, opposite a looking-glass. ’I never ’ad no ’igh ’at to wear afore, an’ I ain’t a-goin’ t’ throw this chance away,’ said Tom.—’Look at that, Bob Reid,’ he continued, as he surveyed himself in the glass and strutted to and fro. ’See ’ow it sets off yer figger, me lad!’ Gerald smiled, and was turning away, when Tom suddenly threw the hat on one side, and, looking very serious, said, ’Mr Gerald, I wants a wurd wi’ ye. Ye knows as we was nearly run down a while since a-comin’ up ’ere?’ ’Yes, Tom. Well?’ ’D’ ye know who was in that blunderin’ pirate as tried t’ send us rattlin’ down on the rocks below?’ ’No, I saw no one. It was a strange-looking craft, and seemed to have no one on board; though, I suppose, the people were really boxed up and out of sight.’ Tom looked cautiously round, as if doubtful whether there were any hidden listeners. Then he came close to Gerald, and said in a whisper, ’But I see one on ’em! ’E were a-peepin’ out o’ a porthole! Nobody but me was lookin’, an’ as soon as ’e see me ’e bobbed back.’ ’Well, who was it?’ Gerald asked, impressed by Tom’s manner. ’Any one we—you or I—know?’ Tom nodded portentously. ’Ay, ay, sir; one who ain’t no frien’ o’ yourn—the one ye call the Ogre—an’ a jolly good name for ’im too!’ ’Are you sure—quite sure, Tom? This may be a serious matter! You should not say such a thing unless you are absolutely certain.’ ’As sure as I am that me ’ead be on me shoulders, sir. The ugly swab! As if anybody could mistake ’is phizog!’ Gerald reflected a while, then said, ’Say nothing to any one else about this, Tom. Keep your own counsel. There may be nothing in it, and if you talk it may get you into trouble.’ ’Ay, ay, sir! I shall be dumb about it onless ye tells me t’ speak.’ Presently a loud flourish of trumpets and sounds of shouting and a general commotion announced that the king himself was approaching. Monck led the visitors to a post of vantage outside the palace, from which they could obtain a good view. The sun was near to setting, and its beams cast a lurid glow over the scene—redder than any sunset they had ever seen on Earth. Below them was a vast plain with a few low hills, upon and round which was the great city of Ivenia, looking vast and glorious, with magnificent buildings extending in one direction pile upon pile almost as far as the eye could see. On the other side lay the sea, glistening like molten copper.