I'm engaged to be married, and would n't presume to aspire to a princess's hand."
"It's a good suggestion," said the Jester; "for otherwise there 'll be war, of course. The other king will be bound to know why this young man won't accept his daughter's hand, and then there 'll be a lot of diplomatic correspondence, ultimatums, protocols, and all sorts of goings-on. If you don't mind, I think you would do well to marry this Princess."
"I don't mind at all," answered the Prince; "and I think I 'll write a letter to her this very day. But how," he went on, turning to the Page, "did you come to be engaged? I did n't know anything about it?"
"The fact is," said the Page, "I'm not quite engaged; but there's one of the maids of honor who will have me, I'm sure. She told me the other day that she wished it was leap-year every day; and I think that's a distinct encouragement, don't you?"
His friend agreed that it was a marked observation.
"You 'll be safe for a day or two," remarked the Jester to the Page; "and meanwhile you can be getting your clothes brushed and your shoes mended. The Prince will write to-day."
Early on the following morning, as the Prince came down to breakfast, he was told that a deputation was awaiting him in the Council-Room. "Who are they?" he asked.
"The Councilors with their reports," answered the messenger.
"But," said the Prince, "they are too—"
"Hush!" said the Jester; "let us not lose their words of wisdom."
"Very well," the Prince agreed, smiling.
So the Prince, the Jester, and the Page entered the room where the Council were assembled. All bowed profoundly.
"Your Royal Highness," began the Secretary, "in order to verify the report of the loss of the Princess, I sent an inquiry to a friend of
