“You can bet you would,” said the king.
His Majesty paced the chamber.
“Mumps!” he ejaculated. “And at such a time! The crowd will never understand it!” He was patently worried.
Then it was that the Count of Duffus, who was Gentleman in Waiting in the Royal Bedchamber, had a tremendous idea. He reduced his brain wave to an excited whisper and poured it into the king’s ear. The king beamed and nodded, at intervals saying, “Good!” “Yes, yes, yes!” “Excellent!” “Splendid!” “Ripping!” “By all means!” “Stout fellow!” “Good old Duffus!” “The very thing.” “Quite so, quite so!” “Admirable!” “Of course!” “Perfect!” and other expressions of approbation. The Count of Duffus, damp with the gentle dew of success, made off; and the king turned to the prince, a twinkle in his eye.
“Invaluable chap, Duffus,” said His Majesty. “Good idea of his. Should have thought of it myself, tho. The old dummy dodge!”
“The dummy dodge, father?” The young prince raised un-understanding eyebrows.
“You’ll see,” promised the king, “when Duffus gets back.”
It wasn’t often that the king talked with the prince so familiarly. Usually there was an atmosphere of formality about their relations; it was more as if they were a friendly but not intimate king and prince than a father and son. Sometimes, the prince had noticed, the king was unusually aloof; there had been days when the king had not spoken to the prince at all; on other days His Majesty was more expansive; today the king was positively clubby.
Presently the Count of Duffus did come back, and with him a package so large that it took two able-bodied footmen to carry it. With an air of having accomplished something noteworthy, the Count of Duffus stood the package upright by the prince’s bed and began most carefully to peel off the wrapping paper. He tore off the last piece of paper with a flourish, and the prince’s eyes opened so wide that his mumps hurt.
It was the waxen figure of a fair-haired, smiling young man in polo costume.