"A varlet," Montagu, who was just then much under the influence of Sir Walter Scott, suggested helpfully.
"A Scotch varlet, mind," Edmund stipulated.
"And presently you see," continued the little girl as though there had been no interruption of any kind, "a most frowning sort of castle, but just as you're wondering what you'll do there appears at the window——"
"Castles haven't got windows," Edmund objected, "only kind of slits."
"This castle has a casement," Herrick responded with dignity. "Don't interrupt—and the curtains are drawn, but pesenly they are drawn back, and then you see the most beautiful princess you ever dreamed of——"
"And then?" asked Montagu.
"Why, you go down on your knees, of course, and say so. Now, let's begin; you do need such a lot of esplanation."
The princess retired behind her curtains; the prince and the varlet, who manifested an unseemly inclination to giggle, marched about the room.
"By my halidome!" exclaimed the prince, who had determined to play the part after the fashion of his then favourite characters, "this place is stoutly fortified."
"Will we win through, think ye?" asked the varlet familiarly.