Through the medium of Wright, who was preparing very reluctantly to resign the care of his master’s personal belongings into the hands of the new servants and return to his natural sphere, the charge of the stables, Cyril procured the required disguises, and he and his brother wrapped themselves up and slipped out. The palace was built round a square courtyard, in the midst of which stood the rude little chapel of St Peter, where the workmen had been busied all day in making preparations for the coronation. As the servants were all at supper, and the guards in their own hall, only the sentries were to be seen, and Caerleon and Cyril stole along in the shadow, giving the password when it was demanded, and reaching the gardens in safety. A private gate, to which they alone possessed a key, supplied them with the means of exit, and they descended the steep street and mingled with the crowd which was admiring the illuminations. These were more ambitious than successful, and although the Thracians were full of delight, Cyril turned up his nose at the display, and commented on it in disparaging whispers. “It _is_ rather slow here,” said Caerleon, stopping short suddenly. “Let us go and look up the O’Malachys.” It was in Cyril’s mind to say, “I wondered how soon you would get to that,” but he held his tongue, and followed Caerleon to the Hôtel Occidental, the whereabouts of which the King had discovered in the course of his progress through the town. Keeping their cloaks well up to their faces, they passed through the hall without being recognised, and were conducted up-stairs to the O’Malachys’ sitting-room, where they found the Herr Oberst himself, Louis, and Nadia. Madame O’Malachy was suffering from a bad headache, and had gone early to her room. “Indeed and ’tis very condescending in your Majesty to come and see us like this,” said the O’Malachy, when he had apologised for his wife’s absence. “Sure ’twas only an hour ago I was saying to Louie here, ‘What will we do about paying our respects to the King? Will we call upon um, or wait until he sends for us?’ And we couldn’t make up our minds about ut at all.” “That’s not true,” said Cyril to himself. “I’m pretty sure you decided to wait until Caerleon came and looked you up, which you guessed he would do before long.” “For pity’s sake,” said Caerleon, sinking into the chair which Louis pushed towards him, “leave the kingdom alone for a little while, O’Malachy. I am sick to death of it. Here, at any rate, let me have a little respite.” “As you please,” said the O’Malachy, with a gracious wave of the hand. “I suppose a king may take a holiday like other people if he wants ut. You will find Liberty Hall here, whenever you like to look in.”