Two seconds later, out from behind a bush stepped the blue-gum policeman, butterfly net, paint-pot and all, while from behind every other bush and flower-pot came all the courtiers, with their shoulders up to their ears and their elbows stuck out, walking on tiptoe towards the table. "Come on, now, and see the fun," whispered Coco Bolo, leading the way round to the front of the throne, where they all stood watching and waiting to see what was to happen next. The policeman and the courtiers had crept up close to the table; the former already had his butterfly net extended at arm's length to clap it down over Thomas A'Becket; it seemed as though the cat would surely be caught this time, when suddenly a brilliant idea popped into Margaret's head. Jumping into the seat of the throne, she clapped her hands to her mouth and shouted: "DINNER!" It was like magic! Thomas A'Becket was completely forgotten in an instant. The whole company, policeman and all, with the Admiral behind them, went racing up the center pathway to the dining-hall; while the jovial little King--who really had no desire to see Thomas A'Becket painted blue--the King, in ecstasies at the success of the trick, flung his crown upon the grass, and went stamping about, laughing so hard that the tears ran out of his eyes. "Run, now!" he cried, as soon as he could get his breath. "Run, Archbishop, and get aboard your raft! The door is locked up there and they'll all be back in a minute." "Here's your hat, Archbishop," said Margaret, springing upon the arm of the throne and reaching down the mitre. "And, if you don't mind, I think we'll come with you. It's time for us to go, anyhow." "I think you had better," agreed the King. "There's no accounting for a blue-gum policeman: he might be wanting to paint _you_ next. So, if I were you, I'd take passage on the Archbishop's raft and skip out at once. Sorry to have you go, but I think you'd better. See! here they come! Good-bye!"--shaking hands hastily--"Good-bye. Call again!" In fact, having discovered, by the simple process of banging their noses against it, that the door was locked, the courtiers had all turned round, and shouting, "Blue paint! Blue paint!" with all their spare breath, were racing down the pathway again, when Margaret and Frances and the Archbishop, followed by Periwinkle and Thomas A'Becket, set off running for the pier. Leaping aboard the raft, they untied it, spread the sail, and amid the shouting of the courtiers, the ringing of the Court Crier's bell, the bellowing of the snap-dragon and the barking of the dog-fish, away they sailed and soon were lost to sight in the cloud-wall.