Bud also ordered a gold piece given to the head of every family; and this did no damage to the ever-filled royal purse, while it meant riches to the poor people who had suffered so much. Princess Fluff had carried her silver chest back to the palace of her brother, and in it lay, carefully folded, the magic cloak. Being now fearful of losing it, she warned Jikki to allow no one to enter the room in which lay the silver chest, except with her full consent, explaining to him the value of the cloak. “And was it this cloak I wore when I wished for half a dozen servants?” asked the old valet. “Yes,” answered Fluff; “Aunt Rivette bade you return it to me, and you were so careless of it that nearly all the high counselors used it before I found it again.” “Then,” said Jikki, heedless of the reproof, “will your Highness please use the cloak to rid me of these stupid servants? They are continually at my heels, waiting to serve me; and I am so busy myself serving others that those six young men almost drive me distracted. It wouldn’t be so bad if they would serve any one else; but they claim they are my servants alone, and refuse to wait upon even his Majesty the king.” “Sometime I will try to help you,” answered Fluff; “but I shall not use the cloak again until the miller’s son returns from his voyage at sea.” So Jikki was forced to wait as impatiently as the others for the sailorman, and his servants had now become such a burden upon him that he grumbled every time he looked around and saw them standing in a stiff line behind him. Aunt Rivette again took possession of her rooms at the top of the palace; and although Bud, grateful for her courage in saving him and his sister from the Roly-Rogues, would gladly have given her handsomer apartments, the old woman preferred to be near the roof, where she could take flight into the air whenever it pleased her to go out. With her big wings and her power to fly as a bird, she was the envy of all the old gossips she had known in the days when she worked as a laundress; and now she would often alight upon the door-step of some humble friend and tell of the wonderful adventures she had encountered. This never failed to surround her with an admiring circle of listeners, and Aunt Rivette derived far more pleasure from her tattle than from living in a palace with her nephew the king. The kingdom of Noland soon took on a semblance of its former prosperity, and the Roly-Rogues were only remembered with shudders of repugnance, and spoken of in awed whispers. And so the days wore away until late in the autumn, when, one morning, a mounted soldier from Queen Zixi dashed into Nole and rode furiously up to the palace gate. “The sailorman is found!” he shouted, throwing himself from his horse and bowing low before little King Bud, who had come out to meet him. “Good,” remarked Bud. “The Queen of Ix is even now riding to your Majesty’s city with a large escort surrounding the sailorman,” continued the soldier.