"Now," said the Chief Constable of Bordershire, "tell me what were the names of the assailants." He was listening to the tale as told by Prissy with his note-book ready in his hand, occasionally biting at the butt of the pencil, and anon wetting the lead in his mouth, under the mistaken idea that by so doing he improved its writing qualities. "I think," began Prissy, "that they were----" "_A-chew!_" came from the bed and from under the bandages with a sudden burst of sound. Field-Marshal Napoleon Smith had sneezed. That was all. But Prissy started. She knew what it meant. It was the well-known signal not to commit herself under examination. Her father looked round at the open windows. "Are you catching cold with the draught, Hugh John?" he asked kindly. "I think I have a little cold," said the wily General, who did not wish all the windows to be promptly shut. "Don't know all their names, but the one that hurted me was----" began Toady Lion. But who the villain was will never be known, for at that moment the bedclothes became violently disturbed immediately in front of Sir Toady Lion's nose. A fearful black countenance nodded once at him and disappeared. "Black Sambo!" gasped Toady Lion, awed by the terrible appearance, and falling back from the place where the wizard had so suddenly appeared. "What did I understand you to say, little boy?" said Mr. Mant, with his pencil on his book. "Ow--it was Black Sambo!" Toady Lion almost screamed. Mr. Mant gravely noted the fact. "What in the world does he mean?" asked Mr. Mant, casting his eyes searchingly from Prissy to General Napoleon and back again. "He means 'Black Sambo'!" said Prissy, devoting herself strictly to facts, and leaving the Chief Constable to his proper business of interpreting them. "What is his other name?" said Mr. Mant. "Soulis!" said General Smith from the bed. The three gentlemen looked at each other, smiled, and shook their heads. "What did I tell you?" said Mr. Davenant Carter. "Try as I will, I cannot get the simplest thing out of my Sammy and Cissy if they don't choose to tell." Nevertheless Mr. Smith, being a sanguine man and with little experience of children, tried again. "There is no black boy in the neighbourhood," said Mr. Smith severely; "now tell the truth, children--at once, when I bid you!" He uttered the last words in a loud and commanding tone. "Us is telling the troof, father dear," said Toady Lion, in the "coaxy-woaxy" voice which he used when he wanted marmalade from Janet or a ride on the saddle from Mr. Picton Smith. "Perhaps the boy had blackened his face to deceive the eye," suggested Mr. Mant, with the air of one familiar from infancy with the tricks and devices of the evil-minded of all ages. "Was the ringleader's face blackened?--Answer at once!" said Mr. Smith sternly. The General extracted his bruised and battered right hand from under the clothes and looked at it.