“By Jove! Of course you would! I never thought of that! Why, you’d be some one else and not the princess at all! We shouldn’t know where the princess was if we were asked.”
“Of course we shouldn’t!” said Erebus, perceiving the advantage of this ignorance.
“I generally am the Baroness von Zwettel when I travel,” said the princess.
The Terror considered the matter, again frowning thoughtfully: “I suppose you have to have a title. But I think an English one would be best here: Lady Rowington now. No one would ever ask us where Lady Rowington is, because there isn’t any Lady Rowington.”
“Oh, yes: Lady Rowington—I would wish an English title,” said the princess readily.
“If we could only think of some way of making them think that she’d been stolen by gipsies, it would be safer still,” said Erebus.
“Gipsies don’t steal children nowadays,” said the Terror; and he paused considering. Then he added, “I tell you what though: Nihilists would—at least they’d steal a princess. Are there any Nihilists in Cassel-Nassau?”
“I never heard of any,” said the princess. “There are thousands of Socialists.”
“Socialists will do,” said the Terror cheerfully.
They were quick in deciding that the princess should not join them till the second night of their stay in camp, to give them time to have everything in order. Then they discussed her needs. She could not bring away with her any clothes, or it would be plain that she had not been stolen. She must share the wardrobe of Erebus.