The Pleasant-Faced Lion had gone into the Court and had left it in triumph, cheered by enthusiastic and interested crowds, whilst _he_, the Griffin, had remained unnoticed. The Griffin's feet were very, very cold, and his vain, foolish, excitement-loving heart had turned to stone. Having contemplated this sad spectacle, the Writer and Ridgwell clambered upon the outside of a bus going westward. Half-way up the Strand the road was partly blocked by a concourse of cheering people. As their bus came alongside, Ridgwell and the Writer both stood up to look over the bus rail to see what was causing all the commotion. It was the Pleasant-Faced Lion being escorted back to Trafalgar Square in state upon a lorry. The crowd cheered enthusiastically upon viewing the unusual sight. As the Writer and Ridgwell gazed at their old friend, the Pleasant-Faced Lion slowly, solemnly, and deliberately winked his right eye, which was nearest to them. * * * * * The Father and Mother of Ridgwell and Christine, upon returning from a most enjoyable holiday upon the Continent, could not avoid seeing the large headlines of the evening papers pasted everywhere upon the station boards at Charing Cross. The headlines were varied; some of them read, "Comic Opera Scene in Court." "Amusing Case before Mr. Justice Chatty." "Ridgwell Makes all London Laugh." "Very uncommon name," observed the Father of Ridgwell, as he bought some papers. Later on, in the railway carriage upon the way home, the Father of Ridgwell first read his paper, and then promptly wiped his eyeglasses, to assure himself that he was not dreaming. "Good gracious!" exclaimed that worthy but astonished gentleman, "why, it's _our_ Ridgwell!" "What is our Ridgwell?" inquired the Mother of that hopeful. "Our Ridgwell has been into Court, before a Judge," faltered his perplexed Father; "has sung a song, which seems to have been a great success. Positively gave evidence that one of the lions in Trafalgar Square was alive, and a great friend of his, and that the animal has occasionally given him a free ride home on his back to Balham; did you ever hear of such a thing?" The Mother of Ridgwell hastily perused the papers recording these strange statements, whilst the Father of Ridgwell leaned back in the railway carriage, endeavouring to recover his breath, and collect his startled faculties both together. The Mother of Ridgwell read the part describing her offspring's performance to the end, and then observed-- "Did you see, Father, that Ridgwell declares he possessed a high Order of Imagination, and then lost it?" The Father of Ridgwell groaned. "Lost it? Good gracious me, what nonsense, my dear; I should think myself he has just found it. I'll talk to that Writer, when I see him; he really oughtn't to be allowed about at large, any more than the Pleasant-Faced Lion. I consider the whole history of this animal most incredible." CHAPTER XI THE END OF THE MATTER