He looked again, and found it was

A Bear without a Head.
'Poor thing,' he said, 'poor silly thing!

It's waiting to be fed!'"
[Image...A bear without a head]

"No, I ca'n't let you out again!" he said, before the children could
speak. "The Vice-warden gave it me, he did, for letting you out last

time! So be off with you!" And, turning away from them, he began
digging frantically in the middle of a gravel-walk, singing, over and

over again, "'Poor thing,' he said, 'poor silly thing! It's waiting to
be fed!'" but in a more musical tone than the shrillscreech in which

he had begun.
The music grew fuller and richer at every moment: other manly voices

joined in the refrain: and soon I heard the heavy thud that told me the
boat had touched the beach, and the harsh grating of the shingle as the

men dragged it up. I roused myself, and, after lending them a hand in
hauling up their boat, I lingered yet awhile to watch them disembark a

goodly assortment of the hard-won 'treasures of the deep.'
When at last I reached our lodgings I was tired and sleepy, and glad

enough to settle down again into the easy-chair, while Arthur
hospitably went to his cupboard, to get me out some cake and wine,

without which, he declared, he could not, as a doctor, permit my going
to bed.

And how that cupboard-door did creak! It surely could not be Arthur,
who was opening and shutting it so often, moving so restlessly about,

and muttering like the soliloquy of a tragedy-queen!
No, it was a female voice. Also the figure half-hidden by the

cupboard-door--was a female figure, massive, and in flowing robes,
Could it be the landlady? The door opened, and a strange man entered

the room.
"What is that donkey doing?" he said to himself, pausing, aghast,

on the threshold.
The lady, thus rudely referred to, was his wife. She had got one of

the cupboards open, and stood with her back to him, smoothing down a
sheet of brown paper on one of the shelves, and whispering to herself

"So, so! Deftly done! Craftily contrived!"
Her loving husband stole behind her on tiptoe, and tapped her on the

head. "Boh!" he playfully shouted at her ear. "Never tell me again I
ca'n't say 'boh' to a goose!"

My Lady wrung her hands. "Discovered!" she groaned. "Yet no--he is
one of us! Reveal it not, oh Man! Let it bide its time!"

"Reveal what not?" her husband testily replied, dragging out the sheet
of brown paper. "What are you hiding here, my Lady? I insist upon

knowing!"
My Lady cast down her eyes, and spoke in the littlest of little voices.

"Don't make fun of it, Benjamin!" she pleaded. "It's--it's---don't
you understand? It's a DAGGER!"

"And what's that for?" sneered His Excellency. "We've only got to make
people think he's dead! We haven't got to kill him! And made of tin,

too!" he snarled, contemptuously bending the blade round his thumb.
Now, Madam, you'll be good enough to explain. First, what do you call

me Benjamin for?"
"It's part of the Conspiracy, Love! One must have an alias, you know--"

"Oh, an alias, is it? Well! And next, what did you get this dagger for?
Come, no evasions! You ca'n't deceive me!"

"I got it for--for--for--" the detected Conspirator stammered,
trying her best to put on the assassin-expression that she had been

practising at the looking-glass. "For--"
"For what, Madam!"

"Well, for eighteenpence, if you must know, dearest! That's what I got
it for, on my--"

"Now don't say your Word and Honour!" groaned the other Conspirator.
"Why, they aren't worth half the money, put together!"

"On my birthday," my Lady concluded in a meek whisper.
"One must have a dagger, you know. It's part of the--"

"Oh, don't talk of Conspiracies!" her husband savagely" target="_blank" title="ad.野蛮地；原始地">savagely interrupted, as
he tossed the dagger into the cupboard. "You know about as much how to

manage a Conspiracy as if you were a chicken. Why, the first thing is
to get a disguise. Now, just look at this!"

And with pardonable pride he fitted on the cap and bells, and the rest
of the Fool's dress, and winked at her, and put his tongue in his cheek.

"Is that the sort of thing, now." he demanded.
My Lady's eyes flashed with all a Conspirator's enthusiasm.

"The very thing!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands.
"You do look, oh, such a perfect Fool!"

The Fool smiled a doubtful smile. He was not quite clear whether it
was a compliment or not, to express it so plainly. "You mean a Jester?

Yes, that's what I intended. And what do you think your disguise is to
be?" And he proceeded to unfold the parcel, the lady watching him in

rapture.
"Oh, how lovely!" she cried, when at last the dress was unfolded.

"What a splendid disguise! An Esquimaux peasant-woman!"
"An Esquimaux peasant, indeed!" growled the other. "Here, put it on,

and look at yourself in the glass. Why, it's a Bear, ca'n't you use
your eyes?" He checked himself suddenly, as a harsh voice yelled

through the room
"He looked again, and found it was

A Bear without a Head!"
But it was only the Gardener, singing under the open window.

The Vice-Warden stole on tip-toe to the window, and closed it noiselessly,
before he ventured to go on. "Yes, Lovey, a Bear: but not without a

head, I hope! You're the Bear, and me the Keeper. And if any one
knows us, they'll have sharp eyes, that's all!"

"I shall have to practise the steps a bit," my Lady said, looking out
through the Bear's mouth: "one ca'n't help being rather human just at

first, you know. And of course you'll say 'Come up, Bruin!', won't you?"
"Yes, of course," replied the Keeper, laying hold of the chain, that

hung from the Bear's collar, with one hand, while with the other he
cracked a little whip. "Now go round the room in a sort of a dancing

attitude. Very good, my dear, very good. Come up, Bruin!
Come up, I say!"

[Image...'Come up, bruin!']
He roared out the last words for the benefit of Uggug, who had just

come into the room, and was now standing, with his hands spread out,
and eyes and mouth wide open, the very picture of stupid amazement.

"Oh, my!" was all he could gasp out.
The Keeper pretended to be adjusting the bear's collar, which gave him

an opportunity of whispering, unheard by Uggug, "my fault, I'm afraid!
Quite forgot to fasten the door. Plot's ruined if he finds it out!

Keep it up a minute or two longer. Be savage!" Then, while seeming
to pull it back with all his strength, he let it advance upon the

scared boy: my Lady, with admirable presence of mind, kept up what she
no doubt intended for a savage growl, though it was more like the

purring of a cat: and Uggug backed out of the room with such haste that
he tripped over the mat, and was heard to fall heavily outside--

an accident to which even his doting mother paid no heed, in the
excitement of the moment.

The Vice-Warden shut and bolted the door. "Off with the disguises!"
he panted. "There's not a moment to lose. He's sure to fetch the

Professor, and we couldn't take him in, you know!" And in another
minute the disguises were stowed away in the cupboard, the door

unbolted, and the two Conspirators seated lovingly side-by-side on the
sofa, earnestly discussing a book the Vice-Warden had hastily snatched

off the table, which proved to be the City-Directory of the capital of
Outland.