The executioner was now bowing before him.
“Get a switch,” commanded the king.
The executioner brought a long, slender birch bough.
“Now,” said Bud, “you give Aunt Rivette sixteen good switches.”
“Oh, don’t! Don’t, Bud!” pleaded Meg.
Aunt Rivette fell on her knees, pale and trembling. In agony she raised her hands.
“I’ll never do it again! Let me off, your Majesty!” she screamed. “Let me off this once! I’ll never do it again! Never! Never!”
“All right,” said Bud, with a cheery smile. “I’ll let you off this time. But if you don’t behave, or if you interfere with me or Fluff, I’ll have the lord high executioner take charge of you. Just remember I’m the king, and then we’ll get along all right. Now you may go upstairs if you wish to and pick out a room on the top story. Fluff and I are going to play.”
With this he laid his crown carefully on the seat of the throne and threw off his ermine robe.
“Come on, Fluff! We’ve had enough business for to-day,” he said, and dragged the laughing princess from the room, while Aunt Rivette meekly followed the lord high steward up the stairs to a comfortable apartment just underneath the roof.