the place whew he was to sign. He then signed it himself, and my Lady
and the Chancellor added their names as witnesses.

"Short partings are best," said the Warden. "All is ready for my
journey. My children are waiting below to see me off" He gravely kissed

my Lady, shook hands with his brother and the Chancellor, and left the
room.

[Image...'What a game!']
The three waited in silence till the sound of wheels announced

that the Warden was out of hearing: then, to my surprise, they broke
into peals of uncontrollable laughter.

"What a game, oh, what a game!" cried the Chancellor. And he and the
Vice-Warden joined hands, and skipped wildly about the room. My Lady

was too dignified to skip, but she laughed like the neighing of a
horse, and waved her handkerchief above her head: it was clear to her

very limited understanding that something very clever had been done,
but what it was she had yet to learn.

"You said I should hear all about it when the Warden had gone,"
she remarked, as soon as she could make herself heard.

"And so you shall, Tabby!" her husband graciously replied, as he
removed the blotting-paper, and showed the two parchments lying side by

side. "This is the one he read but didn't sign: and this is the one he
signed but didn't read! You see it was all covered up, except the place

for signing the names--"
"Yes, yes!" my Lady interrupted eagerly, and began comparing the two

Agreements.
"'Item, that he shall exercise the authority of Warden, in the Warden's

absence.' Why, that's been changed into 'shall be absolutegovernor for
life, with the title of Emperor, if elected to that office by the

people.' What! Are you Emperor, darling?"
"Not yet, dear," the Vice-Warden replied. "It won't do to let this

paper be seen, just at present. All in good time."
My Lady nodded, and read on. "'Item, that we will be kind to the poor.'

Why, that's omitted altogether!"
"Course it is!" said her husband. "We're not going to bother about the

wretches!"
"Good," said my Lady, with emphasis, and read on again. "'Item, that

the contents of the Treasury be preserved intact.' Why, that's altered
into 'shall be at the absolutedisposal of the Vice-Warden'!

"Well, Sibby, that was a clever trick! All the Jewels, only think!
May I go and put them on directly?"

"Well, not just yet, Lovey," her husband uneasily replied.
"You see the public mind isn't quite ripe for it yet. We must feel

our way. Of course we'll have the coach-and-four out, at once.
And I'll take the title of Emperor, as soon as we can safely hold an

Election. But they'll hardly stand our using the Jewels, as long as
they know the Warden's alive. We must spread a report of his death.

A little Conspiracy--"
"A Conspiracy!" cried the delighted lady, clapping her hands.

"Of all things, I do like a Conspiracy! It's so interesting!"
The Vice-Warden and the Chancellor interchanged a wink or two. "Let her

conspire to her heart's content!" the cunning Chancellor whispered.
"It'll do no harm!"

"And when will the Conspiracy--"
"Hist!', her husband hastily interrupted her, as the door opened,

and Sylvie and Bruno came in, with their arms twined lovingly round each
other--Bruno sobbing convulsively, with his face hidden on his

sister's shoulder, and Sylvie more grave and quiet, but with tears
streaming down her cheeks.

"Mustn't cry like that!" the Vice-Warden said sharply, but without any
effect on the weeping children. "Cheer 'em up a bit!" he hinted to my

Lady.
"Cake!" my Lady muttered to herself with great decision, crossing the

room and opening a cupboard, from which she presently returned with two
slices of plum-cake. "Eat, and don't cry!" were her short and simple

orders: and the poor children sat down side by side, but seemed in no
mood for eating.

For the second time the door opened--or rather was burst open,
this time, as Uggug rushed violently into the room, shouting

"that old Beggars come again!"
"He's not to have any food--" the Vice-warden was beginning, but the

Chancellor interrupted him. "It's all right," he said, in a low voice:
"the servants have their orders."

"He's just under here," said Uggug, who had gone to the window, and was
looking down into the court-yard.

"Where, my darling?" said his fond mother, flinging her arms round the
neck of the little monster. All of us (except Sylvie and Bruno,

who took no notice of what was going on) followed her to the window.
The old Beggar looked up at us with hungry eyes. "Only a crust of bread,

your Highness!" he pleaded.
[Image...'Drink this!']

He was a fine old man, but looked sadly ill and worn.
"A crust of bread is what I crave!" he repeated. "A single crust,

and a little water!"
"Here's some water, drink this!"

Uggug bellowed, emptying a jug of water over his head.
"Well done, my boy!" cried the Vice-Warden.

"That's the way to settle such folk!"
"Clever boy!", the Wardeness chimed in. "Hasn't he good spirits?"

"Take a stick to him!" shouted the Vice-Warden, as the old Beggar shook
the water from his ragged cloak, and again gazed meekly upwards.

"Take a red-hot poker to him!" my Lady again chimed in.
Possibly there was no red-hot poker handy: but some sticks were

forthcoming in a moment, and threatening faces surrounded the poor old
wanderer, who waved them back with quiet dignity. "No need to break my

old bones," he said. "I am going. Not even a crust!"
"Poor, poor old man!" exclaimed a little voice at my side, half choked

with sobs. Bruno was at the window, trying to throw out his slice of
plum-cake, but Sylvie held him back.

"He shalt have my cake!" Bruno cried, passionately struggling out of
Sylvie's arms.

"Yes, yes, darling!" Sylvie gently pleaded. "But don't throw it out!
He's gone away, don't you see? Let's go after him." And she led him out

of the room, unnoticed by the rest of the party, who were wholly
absorbed in watching the old Beggar.

The Conspirators returned to their seats, and continued their
conversation in an undertone, so as not to be heard by Uggug,

who was still standing at the window.
"By the way, there was something about Bruno succeeding to the

Wrardenship," said my Lady. "How does that stand in the new Agreement?"
The Chancellor chuckled. "Just the same, word for word," he said,

"with one exception, my Lady. Instead of 'Bruno,' I've taken the
liberty to put in--" he dropped his voice to a whisper, "to put in

'Uggug,' you know!"
"Uggug, indeed!" I exclaimed, in a burst of indignation I could no

longer control. To bring out even that one word seemed a gigantic
effort: but, the cry once uttered, all effort ceased at once: a sudden

gust swept away the whole scene, and I found myself sitting up, staring
at the young lady in the opposite corner of the carriage, who had now

thrown back her veil, and was looking at me with an expression of
amused surprise.

CHAPTER 5.
A BEGGAR'S PALACE.

That I had said something, in the act of waking, I felt sure: the
hoarse stifled cry was still ringing in my ears, even if the startled

look of my fellow-traveler had not been evidence enough: but what could
I possibly say by way of apology?

"I hope I didn't frighten you?" I stammered out at last.
"I have no idea what I said. I was dreaming."

"You said 'Uggug indeed!'" the young lady replied, with quivering lips
that would curve themselves into a smile, in spite of all her efforts