“I’m afraid not,” replied Dick, anxiously. “At least, I might be able to manage, but I don’t know about Marjorie and Fidge.”
“Oh, never mind, then; I’ll ask His Majesty to be good enough to excuse you,” said the fish, and, making a low bow to the King, he explained the situation in a few short gasps.
His Majesty thereupon left the audience chamber, having first graciously inclined his head towards the children.
As he swam away, two little fishes attached themselves to the tip of His Majesty’s tail, while another held the crown down on his royal head, to prevent it from slipping off, the rest of the audience swimming behind at a respectful distance, forming a sort of procession.
“Well,” began the thin fish, after the others had all gone, “I congratulate you. His Majesty had been good enough to place the Royal Dolphins at your disposal, and if the Dodo you are searching for is anywhere on, or in, the sea you ought to have no difficulty in finding him, for the Dolphins swim very quickly indeed, and can take you anywhere you like in a jiffy. Please follow me to the royal stables, and we will harness them.”
The children passed out after their kind little friend, and followed him into the gardens of the Palace, which they had to cross in order to reach the stables.
Marjorie was enraptured at the sight of the beautifully-arranged gardens, in which brightly-colored anemones took the place of flowers.
On a lawn of the finest short green seaweed, a number of globe-shaped fishes, with striped bodies, were playing football, and the children stopped a few minutes to watch the game.
They were very much surprised to find that the football itself was a fish—a little round chap, just the shape of a football—who, on the players giving him a smart kick with their tail, shot up through the water and over the goal in no time.
“Doesn’t he object?” said Dick, after they had watched this performance for some time; “I know I should.”