“You think so?” observed the doctor severely. “Listen.”
They did listen, and heard a roar in the distance coming nearer and nearer, then a great mass of people came sweeping up the street, crying out, “Long live Queen Rose!” “Let us see our new Queen!” “Where is the Rose-Princess?”
“Ah, where indeed?” cried the Queen, weeping. “I have not seen our beautiful daughter since the mob attacked the palace.”
“She would easily be recognised,” said the doctor.
“I’m not so sure of that,” replied the King, looking at the Queen. “You know our Princess is enchanted by the faeries.”
“Faeries?” echoed the doctor; “I never saw one.”
“But I did,” said the Queen.
“Excuse me, my dear madam—dyspepsia,” returned the doctor gravely, for you see he did not know how the Princess changed to a rosebud every night.
The Queen was very angry, but dared not say anything, lest the doctor should deliver her up to the mob, who were now surging in the wide street, listening to a man who was speaking.
“That is Ardram the student,” said the doctor. “I saw his sick mother last night—she gave me this rosebud.”