They saw before them, on a throne, a tall and splendid Queen, very beautiful and very sad, and by her side a King (they knew the royalty by their crowns), not so handsome as his wife, but still very different from the uncouth, heavy Under Folk. And he looked sad too. They were clad in robes of richest woven seaweed, sewn with jewels, and their crowns were like dreams of magnificence. Their throne was of one clear blood-bright ruby, and its canopy of green drooping seaweed was gemmed with topazes and amethysts. The Queen rose and came down the steps of the throne and whispered to her whom she had called Submersia, and she in turn whispered to the four other large ladies who held, each, a captive.
And with a dreadful unanimity the five acted; with one dexterous movement they took off the magic jackets, and with another they removed the useful tails. The Princess and the four children stood upon the table on their own ten feet.
“What funny little things,” said the King, not unkindly.
“Hush,” said the Queen, “perhaps they can understand what you say—and at any rate that Mer-girl can.”
The children were furious to hear their Princess so disrespectfully spoken of. But she herself remained beautifully calm.
“Now,” said the Queen, “before we destroy your memories, will you answer questions?”
“Some questions, yes—others, no,” said the Princess.
“Are these human children?”
“Yes.”
“How do they come under the sea?”