"I think I ought to go to the king and queen. I've got a good deal to say to them." "No; that won't do at all." "Why not? I know how to talk to them." He had frequently rehearsed what he intended to say to the king and queen. He would let them know that he deserved something more for giving up his wife for so long a time. Walpurga found it difficult to make him understand that it would not do to press the matter. Hansei was not inclined to give up the point, and was, moreover, ashamed of confessing to the innkeeper that he had not sat at the same table with their majesties, and that he had not even seen them. Walpurga, who herself needed support, was now obliged to make a double effort in order to pacify Hansei, who threatened to become rude and troublesome. "But I may see your prince? You still have a right to take me there?" asked Hansei. "Yes, yes," replied Walpurga, "that can be done." She, too, was herself glad to have a chance to see the child once more, and this would furnish a good excuse. "What matters it if Mademoiselle Kramer or Frau von Gerloff make sport of Hansei? Day after to-morrow all these people will be nothing to me, and I shall be nothing to them." Her cheeks glowed with excitement, while she hurriedly led Hansei toward the prince's apartments. She was met at the door by Mademoiselle Kramer, who, when Walpurga stated her wish, answered: "No; it can't be done. You must not go in again. Doctor Gunther is there and the child is crying and screaming terribly. Go; in God's name, go." Mademoiselle Kramer disappeared, closing the door after her. Walpurga heard the child cry, and was not allowed to go in and help it. She was shut out--thrust out of doors. Shame at the treatment she had received in Hansei's presence, and anger at these cruel, ungrateful people struggled within her. At last, she said: "Come, Hansei; we mustn't demean ourselves." "Of course not," said Hansei. "It's plain enough that this is the way they treat folks when they have no further need for them." "Nor do we need them any more. Thank God, that's over," said Walpurga. She left the palace in an angry mood, and Hansei muttered to himself that he would thrash the first man he met on the way. They returned to the inn where the chests had been left. They met Baum there, and Hansei again said: "I'd swear that he's no one but Zenza's Jangerl." "Jangerl's in America," insisted Walpurga. "I beg of you, don't trouble yourself about other matters. Let's hurry and get away from here." "I've arranged to stay for another day. I'd like to see the sights, and would like to go to the theater for once in my life, and then--" "Some other time--I want to get home to my child." "You've been away so long that you needn't mind waiting a day longer." Walpurga insisted and Hansei was obliged to yield. "Why do you always look at me?" asked Hansei. "It seems as if you scarcely know me any more." "I'd forgotten what true, blue eyes you have."