"_I_ can," said Clarence; "it's plain enough. Haven't you noticed he's been using a mashie--the _same_ mashie every time? Well, he's bribed or bullied that pop-eyed little swine of an Astrologer to enchant it for him--that's what _he's_ done!" "What a confounded low, ungentlemanly trick!" spluttered King Sidney in high indignation. "Just when I was beginning to find my form at last, too! I shall decline to go on with the match. And what's more, when we _do_ get a Golf Club started, I'll have him blackballed for it!" "I wouldn't make a row about it if I were you," advised Clarence. "Not make a row? When he's taking an unfair advantage of me by using this infernal Magic?--which is unlawful, by Gad, don't you forget _that_! Why shouldn't I denounce such trickery?" "Because," said the Crown Prince, "he might say something disagreeable about it being a case of Pot and Kettle, don't you know." "Let him!" cried the King. "Let him! I defy him to prove that I've had anything done to _my_ clubs!" "Not the clubs," said Clarence; "it's those balls I gave you. I hadn't meant to tell you, but p'raps I'd better now. I paid that little sweep to put a spell on 'em. Of course I'd no idea he'd go and overdo it like this. If he'd been anything of a Golfer he'd have known most of these holes couldn't be done under three or four. And now he's given you both away, blast him!" "It--it's _most_ unfortunate!" said King Sidney. "I--I don't quite see what to do about it." "Simple enough," said his son, "pretend not to notice anything and play it out." "I suppose I must, my boy, I suppose I must. But I know I shan't play so well after this--it's quite put me off my game!" "No, it hasn't, Guv'nor. You'll play up all right, at least if Xuriel knows his job." Xuriel apparently did know his job, for the King's ball continued to be as foozle-proof as the Marshal's mashie. It would be tedious to describe any further holes. When a bewitched mashie is pitted against an enchanted ball, there can obviously be none of the alternations and vicissitudes of Fortune which constitute the charm of Golf. When they were at the turn, having halved every hole up to the ninth, the Marshal had had enough of it. "We are too well matched, Sire," he said, "and to proceed would only be to waste your Majesty's time, which is of far more value than my own." "H'm, well, perhaps we'd better call it a draw and have done with it," said the King. The Court had witnessed the game without excitement or astonishment. They saw no particular reason why the balls should fail to reach the hole in one stroke, and did not care in the least whether they failed or not. The only impressions they received were that Golf was too monotonous and too easy a pastime to have any attractions for them, and that nothing should induce them to indulge in it against such invincible champions as his Majesty and the Ex-Regent.