Once inside the cabin of the lugger the Fish-King took an immense ruler, and sitting upon the table in front of a high heap of foolscap began ruling one wave after another. Absorbed in his occupation, his mouth tightly drawn down, he looked more than ever like a carp. He kept on ruling the waves, heeding neither the little coughs, the little fidgetings, or the little hints, entreaties, regrets, or excuses of the Twins, until, exasperated at his sudden and unaccountable oblivion to their existence, they murmured broken words of thanks for his past kindness, and, not a little indignant, they walked out of the cabin, jumped over the side of the ship, and swam upwards. They met many a quaint creature, and then diving below they rested in a quiet spot again amongst beautiful shells--at last in peaceful calmness at the bottom of the sea, alone with the heaving waves palpitating far above them. Talking over the strange conduct of the Fish-King, it occurred to Cyril that the fact of parting from them risked reminding him of blubber, which he hated, as he had told them before, so he must have preferred ignoring them altogether, especially as he had work to do. But Dulcie thought perhaps they might see him again when he was not so busy. "It must be rather jolly being a crowned head," mused Cyril; "I vote we have a shy at another catseye, so as to have a gorgeous crown and boss everything and everybody." Dulcie, dazzled at such a magnificent prospect, readily agreed. "I wish I were a crowned head!" exclaimed Cyril excitedly. "I wish I were a crowned head!" repeated Dulcie with fervour. [Illustration: _They met many a quaint creature_] They stared at one another. No change had come. Dulcie was the first to understand their failure. "Of course not," she remarked. "How stupid of us! It's a Bird, Beast, or Fish we have to choose, not a crowned head!" So her brother, to change the subject, drew her attention to an eel that was trying to turn head over ... wriggling in a very upside down fashion. Tired of watching it, they lay chest downwards, and, supporting themselves on their elbows, kicked up their own heels. "Do you believe there is such a thing as a Sea-serpent, little Sis?" inquired Cyril lazily. "I believe there are sometimes, when they are in season." "Well, I can tell you there are _not_. And the only season they _are_ in is the Silly Season. Father says so." "It's so lovely down here, and you're spoiling it all, Cyril, by arguing. I do think it would be nice," she added, glancing round, "to be an oyster and have a real pearl! I wished I possessed a real pearl!" "Shut up," cried Cyril. But to his annoyance he found his sister already gone, and a stupid-looking, closed-up oyster in her place, out of which he could not get a glimmer of satisfaction. "You _have_ shut up and no mistake!" he said severely, "in the middle of a conversation too." However, she was soon at his side again, and looked very sorry.