“We never thought of doing it,” said Mavis candidly, “but I hope we shouldn’t have, if we had thought of it.”
“Why haven’t you pressed your pearl buttons?” she asked, and they told her why.
“Wise children,” she said, “but at any rate we must all use the charm that prevents our losing our memories.”
“I shan’t use mine,” said Cathay. “I don’t want to remember. If I didn’t remember I should forget to be frightened. Do please let me forget to remember.” She clung pleadingly to the Princess, who whispered to Mavis, “Perhaps it would be best,” and they let Cathay have her way.
The others had only just time to swallow their charms before the Infantryman threw the net onto a great table, which seemed to be cut out of one vast diamond, and fell on his face on the ground. It was his way of saluting his sovereign.
“Prisoners, your Majesty,” he said when he had got up again. “Four of the young of the Upper Folk—” and he turned to the net as he spoke, and stopped short—“there’s someone else,” he said in an altered voice, “someone as wasn’t there when we started, I’ll swear.”
“Open the net,” said a strong, sweet voice, “and bid the prisoners stand up that I may look upon them.”
“They might escape, my love,” said another voice anxiously, “or perhaps they bite.”
“Submersia,” said the first voice, “do you and four of my women stand ready. Take the prisoners one by one. Seize each a prisoner and hold them, awaiting my royal pleasure.”
The net was opened and large and strong hands took Bernard, who was nearest the mouth of the net back, and held him gently but with extreme firmness in an upright position on the table. None of them could stand because of their tails.