"What! here in this room?"
"Yes."
"Shure ye've been dramin'—so ye have; or else—maybe it was the castle ghost."
"The ghost!" groaned Mrs. Russell. "Oh, your Majesty! Oh, my own one! Oh, save me! Don't—don't let it come near me!"
And, flinging her arms around the royal person, Mrs. Russell clung to it, sobbing hysterically.
"Shure—whisht, will yez, or ye'll waken up the gyerruls," said the monarch. "I'll protect yez, if ye'll let me, so I will."
"Oh!" said Mrs. Russell, clinging more closely to "His Majesty," "do you hear that?"
"What?"
"That noise!"
"What noise?"