A tall sour-looking Under-man stepped forward. Hanging over his arm were scaly tails, which at first sight of the children’s hearts leaped, for they hoped they were their own. But no sooner were the tails fitted on than they knew the bitter truth. “Yes,” said the Queen “they are false tails. You will not be able to take them off, and you can neither swim nor walk with them. You can, however, move along quite comfortably on the floor of the ocean. What’s the matter?” she asked the Jailer. “None of the tails will fit this prisoner, your Majesty,” said the Jailer. “I am a Princess of the reigning Mer House,” said Freia, “and your false, degrading tails cannot cling to me.” “Oh, put them all in the lockup,” said the King, “as sullen a lot of prisoners as ever I saw—what?” The lockup was a great building, broader at the top than at the bottom, which seemed to be balanced on the sea floor, but really it was propped up at both ends with great chunks of rock. The prisoners were taken there in the net, and being dragged along in nets is so confusing, that it was not till the Jailer had left them that they discovered that the prison was really a ship—an enormous ship—which lay there, perfect in every detail as on the day when it first left dock. The water did not seem to have spoiled it at all. They were imprisoned in the saloon, and, worn out with the varied emotions of the day, they lay down on the comfortable red velvet cushions and went to sleep. Even Mavis felt that Kathleen had found a friend in the Queen, and was in no danger. The Princess was the last to close her eyes. She looked long at the sleeping children. “Oh, _why_ don’t they think of it?” she said, “and why mustn’t I tell them?” There was no answer to either question, and presently she too slept. I must own that I share the Princess’s wonder that the children did not spend the night in saying “Sabrina fair” over and over again. Because of course each invocation would have been answered by an inhabitant of Merland, and thus a small army could easily have been collected, the Jailer overpowered and a rush made for freedom. I wish I had time to tell you all that happened to Kathleen, because the daily life of a pampered lap-child to a reigning Queen is one that you would find most interesting to read about. As interesting as your Rover or Binkie would find it to read—if he could read—about the life of one of Queen Alexandra’s Japanese Spaniels. But time is getting on, and I must make a long story short. And anyhow you can never tell all about everything, can you? The next day the Jailers brought food to the prison, as well as a second draught of oblivion, which, of course, had no effect, and they spent the day wondering how they could escape. In the evening the Jailer’s son brought more food and more oblivion-cup, and he lingered while they ate. He did not look at all unkind, and Francis ventured to speak to him. “I say,” he said. “What do you say?” the Under-lad asked.