All that day and the next and for several days the work continued, and in each case the itching vanished at once; the city was cured again, and my vat in the public square was filled to the brim, with all the dead orange leaves that the people owned. The glory of my future was beyond calculation; my sister, I resolved, should yet be Queen; and I planned for myself such offices in the state as should give me power even greater than the King’s. When I awoke in my bed on the following morning, I found that I was rubbing my hands. I dressed hurriedly, and my sister came to me in tears. She was rubbing her hands. We hurried to the King. He was running up and down, rubbing his hands. We fled from him and ran out upon the palace steps, not knowing where next to go; and as we stood there, hesitating, the King’s brother appeared before us, and spoke with excitement. “Beloved!” he cried. “We love each other--what more is needed? Quick, it is not yet too late! Say that you love me--let me hear it again!” “Ah, yes, I do,” said my sister, and he threw his arm about her and clasped her to his breast. “Come! I will save you!” he cried. “There is time, if we hurry. Will you come with me now?” My sister drew back a little, still struggling within herself; and while she hesitated, a commotion arose at the gate, and the young man cried out, in a voice full of despair: “It is too late, too late!” _Tush and His Sister are Seized by the Angry Crowd_ At the gate a throng of people were pressing in with angry shouts. They made toward us, dancing and rubbing their hands. They surrounded us; they crowded upon us to suffocation; the young man and myself tried in vain to shield my sister; angry hands were laid upon her and upon myself, and we were hustled away toward the gate. “Give us back our leaves! Kill them both! To the square!” shouted the mob; and thrusting the King’s brother aside they pulled and pushed us to the public square, and halted us beneath the vat which contained all my wealth. A sudden outcry, followed by silence, drew my attention upward. There above us, on the rim of the vat, stood the King’s Fool. He held a lighted torch aloft in his hand. “Madmen!” he cried. “I am ready to cure you! All alone! Speak! Shall I destroy the leaves?” “No, no!” shouted the crowd. “Stop him! Stop him!” “If you fire the leaves, we will kill these two!” shouted one of our captors. “Oh!” said my sister at my side, pale with terror. “What shall we do? Stop him! If the genie would only come and help us! I wish the genie were here to help us!” “The time has come!” cried the Fool. “I must save you! Why will you all be mad? I must save you from your madness! In with the torch!”