"My dear child," said Merriwig as he patted her soothingly. "There, there! It's your old father come back again. H'r'm. There, there!" He patted her again, as though it were she and not himself who was in danger of breaking down. "My little Hyacinth! My own little girl!" "Oh, Father, I _am_ glad to have you back." "There, there, my child. Now I must just say a few words to my men, and then we can tell each other all that has been happening." He took a step forward and addressed his troops. "Men of Euralia (_cheers_). We have returned from a long and arduous conflict (_cheers_) to the embraces (_loud cheers_) of our mothers and wives and daughters (_prolonged cheering_)--as the case may be (_hear, hear_). In honour of our great victory I decree that, from now onwards, to-morrow shall be observed as a holiday throughout Euralia (_terrific cheering_). I bid you all now return to your homes, and I hope that you will find as warm a welcome there as I have found in mine." Here he turned and embraced his daughter again; and if his eye travelled over her shoulder in the direction of Belvane's garden, it is a small matter, and one for which the architect of the castle, no doubt, was principally to blame. There was another storm of cheers, the battle-cry of Euralia, "_Ho, ho, Merriwig!_" was shouted from five hundred throats, and the men dispersed happily to their homes. Hyacinth and Merriwig went into the Palace. "Now, Father," said Hyacinth later on, when Merriwig had changed his clothes and refreshed himself, "you've got to tell me all about it. I can hardly believe it's really over." "Yes, yes. It's all over," said Merriwig heartily. "We shan't have any trouble in _that_ direction again, I fancy." "Do tell me, did the King of Barodia apologise?" "He did better than that, he abdicated." "Why?" "Well," said Merriwig, remembering just in time, "I--er--killed him." "Oh, Father, how rough of you." "I don't think it hurt him very much, my dear. It was more a shock to his feelings than anything else. See, I have brought these home for you." He produced from his pocket a small packet in tissue paper. "Oh, how exciting! Whatever can it be?" Merriwig unwrapped the paper, and disclosed a couple of ginger whiskers, neatly tied up with blue ribbon. "Father!" He picked out the left one, _fons et origo_ (if he had known any Latin) of the war, and held it up for Hyacinth's inspection. "There, you can see the place where Henry Smallnose's arrow bent it. By the way," he added, "Henry is marrying and settling down in Barodia. It is curious," he went on, "how after a war one's thoughts turn to matrimony." He glanced at his daughter to see how she would take this, but she was still engrossed with the whiskers. "What am I going to do with them, Father? I can't plant them in the garden." "I thought we might run them up the flagstaff, as we did in Barodia." "Isn't that a little unkind now that the poor man's dead?"