Don't tell him about the hole, will you? Promise me faithfully." She turned and seized the child's wrist. "Can you keep a promise?" she panted.
"Of course I can."
"And if any one should ask you, could you—oh, could you say you came in by the gate?"
Caroline wriggled free.
"Of course," she said scornfully. "Do you think I'm a baby?"
"Don't be angry—don't," the girl pleaded. "I don't mean to frighten you—your Majesty, I mean—but I am so excited, and—and I don't quite do what I intend to do or say just what I mean. I am quite all right now. You see, that gardener—he isn't really a gardener." She watched Caroline narrowly, quite unprepared for the sudden delight in her eyes.
"Oh, he's pretending, too!" cried Mary of Scots joyfully. "What is he, really?"
"He's—he's one of my jailers," said the girl somberly. "And the first thing he would do would be to stop up your hole under the fence."
"Oh!" Caroline stared respectfully at the gardener, not far from them now.
