"Madame," said I soothingly, for I was really afraid of her, "I am extremely sorry to inconvenience you, but the rules of the chalet must be observed by everybody, otherwise confusion in the service is certain to result——"
"I am not interested in your domestic problems," she said, and turned over in bed.
"Madame," said I, "let me trouble you to remember that I am not an innkeeper whom you can bully. I am the grandson of an Admiral!"
At that the Queen sat up and stared at me like a maverick.
"That's true," she said. "I had forgotten that distinction. I am sorry if I spoke too severely. Nevertheless it's very annoying."
I said I regretted the necessity of making rules; she yawned and fiddled with her corkscrew kinks, but nodded acknowledgment to my perfectly correct bow. And so I left the Queen, yawning, stretching, and rubbing her neck and ears with the sleepy satisfaction of an awakened cat.
The bell of King Constantino was still ringing at intervals. So I continued along the corridor and knocked very lightly at his door. Listening, I heard a shuffle of unshod feet within, a rustle, then through the key-hole a persuasive voice thick with suppressed affection:
"Why so cruel, little one? Bring me my breakfast on a pretty tray—there's a good little girl. And maybe there'll be a big, shiny gold-piece for you if you're very amiable."
I hesitated, listening to his heavy, irregular breathing, then opened the door.
The King looked intensely foolish for a moment, then seized me by the shoulder, drew me into the room, and shut the door.