Jack and Molly were lost in admiration of the beauty of the scene before them. The creeper-clad walls and white towers of the Palace stood in well-wooded grounds through which a little river wandered, sparkling in the sunlight. Along the central avenue that led to the Palace, and up the great wide steps to the main door, there moved a constant stream of people, dressed in all sorts of lovely shades and colours; from a distance you might almost think they were the moving reflections of the flowers that clustered in profusion wherever your eyes turned. Had this been really so, Glan in his white suit might have passed for the reflection of a white stock, perhaps; Molly for a blue and white periwinkle; Jack for a dark blue hyacinth; and Aunt Janet, who was all in brown, for a large autumn leaf. They joined the moving procession, and as they began to mount the steps Glan explained to the children that all these people were on the same errand as themselves; they had come to offer their help in the organized search that was about to take place. The main doors of the Palace were soon reached and they passed through, and were presently ushered into a spacious hall, panelled with dark oak. (For although the outsides of the buildings in the City were white, the children had already noted that the insides were coloured in many and varied styles.) The hall was already crowded with people, and on a raised daïs at the far end there sat the King’s Councillors—a group of wise and learned men and women—round a long table. At first Jack and Molly could not see very well, but when a sudden hush fell on the assembly and the people all bowed, the children could see over the bowed heads that some one of importance was entering. They were made sure of this by the nudges of Aunt Janet. And looking up they saw it was the King. His Majesty was middle-aged and rather tall and well built, and had a strong, clean-shaven face. The children liked his appearance. That he was ‘every inch a king’ could truly be said of him, though he wore no crown or velvet robes as the kings usually did in the children’s story-books at home, but was dressed very simply in a suit that reminded Jack vaguely of an admiral’s uniform. “What a decent sort he looks,” whispered Jack to Molly. After a few words of welcome to the people the King called upon one of the Councillors—a shrewd little man with tufty white whiskers—to tell the true story of the Pumpkin’s return to the Possible World, which the Councillor did, having obtained a full account from Old Nancy. The only question which still remained unsolved was: Who was the traitor who had drugged Old Nancy, and so aided the Pumpkin to return? This mystery, he said, they hoped to clear up when the Black Leaf was found.