“Mustn’t cry like that!” the Vice-Warden said sharply, but without any effect on the weeping children. “Cheer ’em up a bit!” he hinted to my Lady.
“Cake!” my Lady muttered to herself with great decision, crossing the room and opening a cupboard, from which she presently returned with two slices of plum-cake. “Eat, and don’t cry!” were her short and simple orders: and the poor children sat down side by side, but seemed in no mood for eating.
For the second time the door opened—or rather was burst open, this time, as Uggug rushed violently into the room, shouting “that old Beggar’s come again!”
“He’s not to have any food——” the Vice-Warden was beginning, but the Chancellor interrupted him. “It’s all right,” he said, in a low voice: “the servants have their orders.”
“He’s just under here,” said Uggug, who had gone to the window, and was looking down into the court-yard.
“Where, my darling?” said his fond mother, flinging her arms round the neck of the little monster. All of us (except Sylvie and Bruno, who took no notice of what was going on) followed her to the window. The old Beggar looked up at us with hungry eyes. “Only a crust of bread, your Highness!” he pleaded. He was a fine old man, but looked sadly ill and worn. “A crust of bread is what I crave!” he repeated. “A single crust, and a little water!”
‘DRINK THIS!’
“Here’s some water, drink this!” Uggug bellowed, emptying a jug of water over his head.
“Well done, my boy!” cried the Vice-Warden. “That’s the way to settle such folk!”