"Silence, dog!" said the prince severely. "How came you here, fair lady?" "I am imprisoned in this dreadful castle," the princess continued plaintively, "by a wicked baron, an enemy of my kingly father." "Where is the baron, lady? That we may slay him!" valiantly exclaimed the prince. "Is your faither deed?" further inquired the varlet, who really was shockingly familiar. "He died"—here the princess faltered and looked almost as though she might weep at any moment—"while I was yet a babe, nigh upon forty years ago." "That’s a long time," murmured the prince thoughtfully. "It is," the princess agreed, "and meanwhile my evil cousin has usurped the throne—— Now let us do it all over again." Here she spoke in a perfectly natural voice. "Perhaps you’ll be a bit better this time. You ought to be much more surprised when I first appear, you ought to be struck dumb with amazement and delight, and then say all sorts of beautiful things. You should see my daddie do it." "No, no," protested the varlet, as he arose and rubbed his knees, "we’ve got to find that old baron first and kill him. Wouldn’t you like to be the baron now for a change?" "Certainly not," said the princess with great dignity. "I’m only the princess always; we never have killings or horrid things of that sort. Are you ready?" "Wouldn’t you like to see the garden?" Montagu suggested; "it’s very very pretty." "I’ve seen plenty of gardens, thank you. This town is all over gardens. Are you ready?" The princess was once more shrouded by her curtains. Edmund looked despairingly at Montagu. "Shall we show her our secret place?" he whispered. "We simply can’t play that silly old game all over again." "She’s got such a smart frock on," Montagu objected. "Suppose she got dirty." "What secret place?" asked the princess, emerging from behind the curtains. "It’s a wee tunnel, and you go up it and come out on the roof, but you’d spoil your dress. Are you going to a party, that you’re so fine?" "I’m not fine," the princess cried indignantly. "It’s just an or’nary dress; it’ll wash. _Do_ show me the secret place." "Will you promise not to play princess when we get there?" Edmund demanded. "Not if you don’t like it," she answered, looking very surprised; "but it’s such a lovely game." "Hush! they’re calling us," Montagu exclaimed; "we must go down." "But the secret place," cried Herrick. "I must see the secret place." "You can’t now; we must go. Next time, perhaps. All right, Guardie, we’re coming. Here, you’d better let me carry you, the stairs are awfully steep. Bring her coat and things, Edmund." This time the princess consented, and Montagu staggered downstairs bearing this precious and, for him, exceedingly heavy burden. "What have you been doing, children?" Mrs. Wycherly asked.