This time I heard her silvery laugh, and I looked with curiosity at the advancing guards. When they began their short march they were veterans. After a few steps they became recruits. A few steps more, and they were cadets, and so it went on. They became boys and then toddlers; and finally, when they reached the foot of the platform, they were babies, creeping on all fours and crying and cooing.
Those babes in uniform were very ridiculous. After a great shout of laughter, some of the women in the crowd picked up the helpless infants and bore them away in their arms. I afterward learned that the foundling asylum was much overcrowded that night.
This last experience seemed to open the King's eyes to the peculiarities of my niece's disposition. He realized that she must be coaxed rather than driven. I do not mean to say he told me so, for in all the course of our acquaintance we did not exchange a dozen words. He called me the "star-gazer," and seemed to think me rather a fussy old fellow. Perhaps he was right,—my horoscope indicated something of the kind.
The populace had now run away, and the King and a few courtiers came to the foot of the platform and invited us to come to the Palace and make ourselves at home. The King offered his arm to my niece, and she took it with an ease of manner which she inherited from her grandfather. My father was a sorcerer, and of the very best school. All his house-work was done by familiars, and genii did the farm-work and ran errands.
When the King had escorted my niece and her uncle to the private audience-room, we sat down to a very well-served table, and then the King and my niece came to an understanding. I heard only the last part of the conversation.
"You cannot marry my son!" said the King, decidedly. "It's against all precedent."
