“And I’ll help you,” smiled Urtha, drifting about over the ice like an old-fashioned bouquet and filling the frosty air with a lovely fragrance. “But the fortune,” objected Bill, staring at the Prince in horror. “We have to find the fortune.” “That’s right,” agreed the old soldier, remembering Mrs Sew-and-Sew’s words about refurnishing the castle. “We mustn’t give up yet, just because we’ve bumped into some odd and chilly places. Just wait—there are lots of Princesses in Oz, and fortunes too!” “Well I prefer fairies,” sighed Tatters, with a smile at Urtha. “Look!” cried the little flower girl delightedly. “Let’s pretend this is a silver ship and there—” as a spray of crystal drops dashed over the side of the iceberg—“there are the diamonds! Let’s dance!” She looked so coaxing and so cunning that Tatters sprang up impulsively and the two went skipping, sliding and twirling all over the ice until they were dancing on a perfect carpet of flowers. “Teach her the Ragbad quadrille,” called Grampa. “If we’re going back with a fortune, there’ll be high old times in the red castle and Urtha will want to know the dances the same as the other girls. Wait, I’ll play it for you.” Seizing his drum sticks, the old soldier broke into the spirited measures of the Ragbad quadrille and soon Tatters and Urtha were bowing and gliding, turning three times to the left and four to the right, pretending to change partners with a dozen imaginary courtiers—all troubles and dangers forgotten. “This reminds me of old times,” said Grampa, stopping at last from lack of breath. “And you’ll never be a wall-flower, my dear!” chuckled the old soldier, wagging his finger at the little fairy. “Let’s play scrum,” proposed Tatters, who was perfectly breathless too. “Oh let’s!” cried Urtha. So Grampa obligingly unfastened his game leg, and the Prince and little flower girl were soon deep in the mysteries of the queer old game of scrum, Bill keeping score on the ice and the old soldier, with half closed eyes, thinking of the good old days when he was a lad and a hero to all the pretty girls in Ragbad. “First peaceful moment we’ve had since we left the old country,” mused Grampa and, reaching down, he picked up his pipe and tobacco. Tatters had removed them from the game leg before they started to play. Absently Grampa filled his pipe from one of the pouches—the blue pouch he had taken from Vaga, the bandit. All this time it had lain forgotten in Grampa’s game leg. Without realizing that he had used the robber’s tobacco, Grampa felt for a match. At the same moment Urtha and Tatters finished their fifth game of scrum and, closing up the game leg, they buckled it back in place.