Almost on the instant an amazingly disheveled Wiggins appeared stealing in a crouching attitude toward the entrance to the cave.
“That nice little boy, Rupert Carrington,” said Sir Maurice.
Wiggins had almost gained the entrance to the cave when, with an ear-piercing yell, the princess sprang upon him and locked her arms round his neck; they swayed, yelling in anything but unison, and came to the ground.
“Delicate to fragility,” muttered Sir Maurice.
“Whatever has she been doing to herself?” said Miss Lambart faintly, gazing at her battling yelling charge with amazed eyes.
“You don’t know the Twins,” said Sir Maurice.
On his words Erebus came flying down the face of the knoll at a breakneck pace, yelling as she came, and flung herself upon the battling pair. As far as the spectators could judge she and the princess were rending Wiggins limb from limb; and they all three yelled their shrillest. Then with a yell the Terror leaped upon them from the cave and they were all four rolling on the ground while the aching welkin rang.
Suddenly the tangle of whirling limbs was dissolved as Erebus and Wiggins tore themselves free, gained their feet and fled. The princess and the Terror sat up, panting, flushed and disheveled. The princess wriggled close to the Terror, snuggled against him, and put an arm round his neck.
“It was splendid!” she cried, and kissed him.
Unaware of the watching eyes, he submitted to the embrace with a very good grace.