"Me lord," said he, in a solemn tone, "ye know, no doubt, that we are a bachelor. Ye don't know it? Well, we are. I say, we are a bachelor. We've been lookin' all around for ages afther a partner--a r'y'l consort. All the iligible faymales av all the coorts av Europe have been solicitin' our alliance. But none av thim wor shuitable. No. Without love, we won't marry--we won't adopt the infernal system ay state marriages. Where our heart isn't concerned our r'y'l hand don't go--not a bit av it. Now, we niver saw the woman yet that we'd be willin' to raise to the throne av Spain ontil we saw yer ward--the lovely, the charrumin, the baywitchin' Lady Katie. Nay, me lord, start not, an' don't suspect us av onjue praycipitation. We haven't addhressed the Lady Katie yet on that point. We've acted in accardence wid r'y'l usage, an' now make a farrumal offer av our alliance to the parents an' gyarjians av the lovely being. What do ye say, me lord? Will ye give yer consint to our proposal, an' allow yer ward to become the Quane av Spain?" At this Russell was quite overwhelmed. He had listened with open mouth to this last address of "His Majesty," and at length, when it all culminated in this direct and unmistakable proposal, he was so astounded that he didn't know what to say. He therefore sat silent and staring with open mouth, until at length, not knowing anything better to do, he mechanically raised the tumbler of toddy and poured the whole of it into that open mouth. "That's right!" exclaimed "His Majesty," heartily, and he at once began to replenish the empty glasses; "an' mind you, me boy, it's as much for your intherest, me lord, as it is for hers. It's a great thing for a young gyerrel to become the Quane av Spain; an' as for yerself, why, av coorse there's no ind to the honors an' dignities an' lucrative offices that ye'd be afther gettin' howld av. Ye'd be a kind av father-in-law to the Quane. Ye'd be made Ministher av War or anythin' else ye axed for. Ye'd be made a Juke av Gibraltar an' Prince av the Pyrenees. Ye'd belong to the Privy Council. Ye'd be the chief adviser av our r'y'l Majesty--that's me, ye know; an' av coorse it isn't every day that ye have such a chance as that." [Illustration: "Russell Fell Upon His Knees."] [Illustration: "These Two Had That Banquet All To Themselves."] "His Majesty" paused for a reply. Russell stared fixedly before him into vacancy, but uttered not a word. Either the high honor that had been proposed, or the brilliant future that had been laid open, or else the whiskey toddy, or all three combined, had overcome him utterly; and so he sat there staring and silent. "Sure, I know what yer thinkin' about," said "His Majesty." "There's only one objection, an' that's religion. But that's nothin'," he continued, with airy and pagan indifference; "we can arrange all that aisy enough. Love's stronger than religion any day. Ye know the owld song."