"Plucky little beggar!" cried Truxton, his heart swelling with love for the royal youngster.
"Sir!" exclaimed the attendant, his eyes wide with amazement and reproof.
"I'll see him," said the other promptly, as if he were granting the audience.
He followed the perplexed attendant up the grand staircase, across thickly carpeted halls in which posed statuesque soldiers of the Royal Guard, to the door of the Prince's bedchamber. Here he was confronted by Count Vos Engo.
"Enter," said Vos Engo, with very poor grace, standing aside. The sentinels grounded their arms and Truxton King passed into the royal chamber, alone.
CHAPTER XX
BY THE WATER-GATE
It was a vast, lofty apartment, regal in its subdued lights. An enormous, golden bed with gorgeous hangings stood far down the room. So huge was this royal couch that Truxton at first overlooked the figure sitting bolt upright in the middle of it. The tiny occupant called out in a very sleepy voice:
"Here I am, Mr. King. Gee, I hate a bed as big as this. They just make me sleep in it."