"The royal bedchamber?" gasped the high chamberlain.
"I gave up my bed right off, but she won't stay in it. She sits in the window most of the time. It's all right about the bed. I spoke to nurse about it. Besides, I don't want to go to bed while there's any fighting going on. So, you see, it's all right. Say, Uncle Caspar, may I take a crack at old Marlanx with my new rifle if I get a chance? I've been practising on the target range, and Uncle Jack says I'm a reg'lar Buffalo Bill."
Count Halfont unceremoniously hugged his wriggling grand-nephew. A cheer went up from the others.
"Long live Prince Robin!" shouted Count Vos Engo.
Prince Robin looked abashed. "I don't think I could hit him," he said with becoming modesty. They laughed aloud. "But, say, don't forget about Mr. King. Tell him I want him to parade most of the time in front of my windows."
"He has a weak ankle," began Colonel Quinnox lamely.
"Very difficult for him to walk," said Vos Engo, biting his lips.
The Prince looked from face to face, suspicion in his eyes. It dawned on him that they were evading the point. A stubborn line appeared between his brows.
"Then I command you, Colonel Quinnox, to give him the best horse in the stables. I want him to ride."
"It shall be as you command, your Highness."