Sylvie gently explained matters. “I'm afraid we ca'n't manage it,” she said in a low voice. “I'm very sorry: but our ears haven't got the right--” she wanted to say “machinery” in Doggee: but she had forgotten the word, and could only think of “steam-engine.” The Sentinel repeated Sylvie's explanation to the King. “Can't prick up their ears without a steam-engine!” His Majesty exclaimed. “They must be curious creatures! I must have a look at them!” And he came out of his Kennel, and walked solemnly up to the children. What was the amazement--nor to say the horror of the whole assembly, when Sylvie actually patted His Majesty on the head, while Bruno seized his long ears and pretended to tie them together under his chin! The Sentinel groaned aloud: a beautiful Greyhound who appeared to be one of the Ladies in Waiting--fainted away: and all the other Courtiers hastily drew back, and left plenty of room for the huge Newfoundland to spring upon the audacious strangers, and tear them limb from limb. Only--he didn't. On the contrary his Majesty actually smiled so far as a Dog can smile--and (the other Dogs couldn't believe their eyes, but it was true, all the same) his Majesty wagged his tail! “Yah! Hooh hahwooh!” (that is “Well! I never!”) was the universal cry. His Majesty looked round him severely, and gave a slight growl, which produced instant silence. “Conduct my friends to the banqueting-hall!” he said, laying such an emphasis on “my friends” that several of the dogs rolled over helplessly on their backs and began to lick Bruno's feet. A procession was formed, but I only ventured to follow as far as the door of the banqueting-hall, so furious was the uproar of barking dogs within. So I sat down by the King, who seemed to have gone to sleep, and waited till the children returned to say good-night, when His Majesty got up and shook himself. “Time for bed!” he said with a sleepy yawn. “The attendants will show you your room,” he added, aside, to Sylvie and Bruno. “Bring lights!” And, with a dignified air, he held out his paw for them to kiss. But the children were evidently not well practised in Court-manners. Sylvie simply stroked the great paw: Bruno hugged it: the Master of the Ceremonies looked shocked. All this time Dog-waiters, in splendid livery, were running up with lighted candles: but, as fast as they put them upon the table, other waiters ran away with them, so that there never seemed to be one for me, though the Master kept nudging me with his elbow, and repeating, “I ca'n't let you sleep here! You're not in bed, you know!” I made a great effort, and just succeeded in getting out the words “I know I'm not. I'm in an arm-chair.” “Well, forty winks will do you no harm,” the Master said, and left me. I could scarcely hear his words: and no wonder: he was leaning over the side of a ship, that was miles away from the pier on which I stood. The ship passed over the horizon and I sank back into the arm-chair.