“Is this the green hobgoblin who has the impudence of claiming that he is a man-spirit?”
“Yes,” answered the king; “only, as you will observe, he is not green, but red.”
“Your majesty is pleased to jest,” replied the queen. “Everybody sees that he is green.”
“He is red,” said the king sternly, being evidently annoyed by her contradiction.
“Let him be red then, if you must have it so,” answered the queen, while her voice indicated vexation; “but he is green for all that.”
“Well, I declare!” exclaimed Bimbam I., growing still more red. “I never saw a woman in my life that did not love to contradict. I say he is red, and I will leave it to Cravatu to decide.”
Cravatu stepped forward, letting his yellow light fall directly upon me, and after scanning me very carefully, he said: “I beg pardon, your majesties, but the hobgoblin is of a bright yellow colour.”
“Are you all making sport of me?” cried the king in a rage; and turning to the princess, he asked: “What does Adalga say?”
“He appears to me in a silvery light shaded with blue,” answered the princess; “but according to his own statement he does not shine at all.”
The gnomes looked at each other in amazement, and Cravatu said—