But Rafe hesitated.
"Your Majesty," he replied, "I see no way to make another pie like this which has pleased you. For I have no more of the magic nuts wherewith to flavor a second."
The King frowned. "What! No more pie! Is this to be the first and the last? Sirrah, I am not pleased!"
Then little Meg stepped forth. "The magic nut is the nutmeg," said she. "My name is Meg, and Granny called the magic nuts after me. I know where is hidden a store of them. These are my dower."
She emptied her pockets of the nuts which they held, and they were a precious handful.
"Ha!" cried the King eagerly, "you must marry Baron Applepy, that he may use your dower in our behalf."
Rafe and the maid looked sidewise at one another.
"You are willing, my dear?" said the Queen, smiling upon Meg.
"Yes," whispered she, with red-apple cheeks.
"Yes, indeed!" cried Rafe when the Queen looked at him.