“May I ask the name of his Highness?” said Vivian. “We are strangers in this country.” “That may certainly account for your ignorance,” said the huntsman; “but no one who lives in this land can be unacquainted with his Serene Highness the Prince of Little Lilliput, my illustrious master. I have the honour,” continued the huntsman, “of being Jagd Junker, or Gentilhomme de la Chasse to his Serene Highness.” “‘Tis an office of great dignity,” said Vivian, “and one that I have no doubt you admirably perform; I will not stop you, sir, to admire your horse.” The huntsman bowed courteously and galloped off. “You see, sir,” said Essper George, “that my bugle has deceived even the Jagd Junker, or Gentilhomme de la Chasse of his Serene Highness the Prince of Little Lilliput himself;” so saying, Essper again sounded his instrument. “A joke may be carried too far, my good fellow,” said Vivian. “A true huntsman like myself must not spoil a brother’s sport, so silence your bugle.” Now again galloped up the Jagd Junker, or Gentilhomme de la Chasse of his Serene Highness the Prince of Little Lilliput. He pulled up his horse again apparently as much astounded as ever. “I thought that his Highness had been here.” said the huntsman. “No one has passed us,” said Vivian. “We heard a bugle to the right,” said Essper George. “I am afraid his Serene Highness must be in distress. The whole suite are off the scent. It must have been his bugle, for the regulations of this forest are so strict that no one dare sound a blast but his Serene Highness.” Away galloped the huntsman. “Next time I must give you up, Essper,” said Vivian. “One more blast, good master!” begged Essper, in a supplicating voice. “This time to the left; the confusion will be then complete.”