All at once his glance, roving empty shelves, fell on a tiny box wedged in a sombre corner. With a loud shout of joy, the Master Thief recognized the spell-dispeller! It had fallen behind a shelf and had lain there concealed for almost twenty years! Thrusting it into his pocket’s depth, the Master Thief bounded up the secret stairs to the joy of the sun.
After a pleasant rambling journey in a huge coach, the Master Thief and the invisible Prince reached the city at the twilight hour, and took lodgings at a quiet, comfortable inn. The invisible Prince, I must remind you, was still invisible.
Now it came to pass that when supper had been served and eaten, the Master Thief and the invisible Prince went for a stroll through the royal city. Much to the surprise of the travelers, they found the city hung with streamers and bunting of the gayest kind. Stranger still, in spite of this display, the citizens of the royal city appeared to be particularly out of spirits.
“Good host,” said the Master Thief to the landlord of the inn, “pray what means this air of jubilee? Do you make merry for some kingly festival?”
“A festival, yes,” replied the host, looking about to see if anyone were listening, “festival it is, but only in name. Have you not heard the news? Let us walk a little to one side and I will tell you the story.
“Three years ago our gracious sovereign, the good King Valdoro the Fourth—weary of the cares of state and still stricken to the heart by the loss of his son, the invisible Prince of whom you may have heard—gave over the guidance of the kingdom to the Marquis Malicorn. Last week this official made himself master of the royal power, imprisoned our dear King and Queen in a dark tower, and proclaimed himself successor to the throne. The coronation is to be held to-morrow afternoon in the great hall of the royal palace. Alas for the people and the nation! Oh, if the invisible Prince would only return!”
To this the Master Thief nodded his head, his busy brain plotting all the while. All at once he smiled. He had devised a plan.
And now it was once more the great hall of the castle, and once more a sunny afternoon. Bells rang, but their cry was wingless and leaden, and there was a dull and joyless note in the cannon’s roar. Crowded as densely together as ever they were twenty years before, the magnificoes sullenly awaited the arrival of the usurper and his train.
Presently the portals were once more swept apart, revealing Malicorn and his followers. Not a sound rose from the assembly.
Growling for rage beneath a huge pair of dragoon’s whiskers, the wicked Marquis made his way to the dais and the coronation chair. The noise of bells and cannon ceased. An official in blue advanced with the royal robe.