As if spoken by one man, a mighty “Why?” rose from the multitude.
“Why?” repeated Aurora astonished, “because you can gaze on me. You can feast your eyes on my lovely face.” Then turning to Maida, she added fiercely, “it is lovely—isn’t it?” Maida managed to pipe out, “Oh, very!” but she felt guilty of telling an awful whopper.
“You can gladden your eyes with my sylph-like form,” and again turning to Maida, continued, “If I’m not mistaken, it is sylph-like?”
“If you please,” murmured Maida, “I don’t know what a sylph is, I never saw one, but I am sure they couldn’t look any worse.”
Luckily for Maida, the Queen did not hear the last part of her speech. A minion approached Aurora, and distracted her attention by presenting her with a paper which bore a huge red seal.
“What’s this?” she inquired petulantly, “didn’t you hear me? I was talking about myself. Every time I get absorbed in an interesting topic you come along and spoil it. What’s the matter?”
“Your noble Majesty,” humbly replied the minion, “Santa Claus, the toy-maker, has deserted his post. We caught him here, together with two of his creatures.”
Aurora frowned, then the entire assembly fell on their knees and hid their faces. From the golden crown a huge shaft of fierce red light shot up to the sky, turning the Plaza to crimson.
Then other minions brought on poor Santa Claus with his arms tied behind him, and Jack-in-the-Box and the Candy Kid handcuffed together. Maida realized at once why her friends had all disappeared from the airship. No doubt they had all been captured—and she alone had been spared. She began to plan their escape. Jack-in-the-Box and the Candy Kid were made to stand in a line with Santa Claus, and were so close to Maida she could have touched them. The trial was very short. Santa Claus was banished. The Candy Kid was to be broken up and fed to the kiddies in Illusia, and the key of Jack-in-the-Box was to be thrown away, and he was never to be wound up again. Forgetting her danger, Maida had drawn closer and closer to the Candy Kid, so that when Aurora had sentenced him, the next thing she saw was a strange little girl who did not in the least look like one of the children of Illusia.
Maida thought her time had come, but a lucky accident saved her, as Aurora mistook her for some sort of a doll Santa Claus had made.