"Ah, got back, Mike!" cried Harry. "What did the Prince say?"
"Come on almost directly, sir; but I had no end of a job to get to see him."
"How was that?"
"Oh, those guard chaps; soldiers, I s'pose they call themselves. They're a deal too handy with those spears of theirs. They ought to be told that they mustn't point them at an Englishman's breast."
"Oh, it's only because they're on duty, Mike," replied Harry.
"Wouldn't make any difference to me, sir, whether it was on dooty or off dooty if one of them was to go inside my chest."
"Oh, you needn't be afraid of that."
"Afraid! Oh, come, I like that, Master Harry—afraid! Not likely to be afraid of any number of the squatty, yellow-skinned chaps, but they oughtn't to be allowed to carry such things. Fancy Englishmen at home all going about carrying area railings in their hands."
Harry shook his head, for his recollections of spear-pointed area railings were very vague.
"Don't matter, sir," said Mike, "they don't know any better; but I know I shall get in a row one of these days for giving one of 'em a smeller right on the nose."