The Keeper pretended to be adjusting the bear’s collar, which gave him an opportunity of whispering, unheard by Uggug, “_my_ fault, I’m afraid! Quite forgot to fasten the door. Plot’s ruined if _he_ finds it out! Keep it up a minute or two longer. Be savage!” Then, while seeming to pull it back with all his strength, he let it advance upon the scared boy: my Lady, with admirable presence of mind, kept up what she no doubt intended for a savage growl, though it was more like the purring of a cat: and Uggug backed out of the room with such haste that he tripped over the mat, and was heard to fall heavily outside—an accident to which even his doting mother paid no heed, in the excitement of the moment. The Vice-Warden shut and bolted the door. “Off with the disguises!” he panted. “There’s not a moment to lose. He’s sure to fetch the Professor, and we couldn’t take _him_ in, you know!” And in another minute the disguises were stowed away in the cupboard, the door unbolted, and the two Conspirators seated lovingly side-by-side on the sofa, earnestly discussing a book the Vice-Warden had hastily snatched off the table, which proved to be the City-Directory of the capital of Outland. The door opened, very slowly and cautiously, and the Professor peeped in, Uggug’s stupid face being just visible behind him. “It is a beautiful arrangement!” the Vice-Warden was saying with enthusiasm. “You see, my precious one, that there are fifteen houses in Green Street, _before_ you turn into West Street.” “_Fifteen_ houses! Is it _possible_?” my Lady replied. “I thought it was fourteen!” And, so intent were they on this interesting question, that neither of them even looked up till the Professor, leading Uggug by the hand, stood close before them. My Lady was the first to notice their approach. “Why, here’s the Professor!” she exclaimed in her blandest tones. “And my precious child too! Are lessons over?” “A strange thing has happened!” the Professor began in a trembling tone. “His Exalted Fatness” (this was one of Uggug’s many titles) “tells me he has just seen, in this very room, a Dancing-Bear and a Court-Jester!” The Vice-Warden and his wife shook with well-acted merriment. “Not in _this_ room, darling!” said the fond mother. “We’ve been sitting here this hour or more, reading——,” here she referred to the book lying on her lap, “—reading the—the City-Directory.” “Let me feel your pulse, my boy!” said the anxious father. “Now put out your tongue. Ah, I thought so! He’s a little feverish, Professor, and has had a bad dream. Put him to bed at once, and give him a cooling draught.” “I ain’t been dreaming!” his Exalted Fatness remonstrated, as the Professor led him away.