"I'll tell you what! Look here! Thomas A'Becket is hiding somewhere close by, because we heard him mew just now; so, this is what we'll do. We'll lay a trap for him. We'll set out a saucer of milk on the table and then we'll all go and hide in the bushes and wait for him to come out."
It was a pretty good idea—considering what a thick and solid head the King had, it was a very good idea.
The saucer was filled, when everybody went tiptoing away; Margaret and Frances and Coco Bolo and the Archbishop going and hiding behind the throne.
All was silent, when the little girls, peeping round the end of the throne, saw Thomas A'Becket climb out of the mitre, jump down upon the seat and go walking across the lawn towards the table.
"Look out, Thomas!" whispered Margaret. "Look out, or they'll catch you!"
The old cat turned his head and shut one eye, as much as to say, "Don't you worry," and walked on, until, having reached the table, he jumped upon it, and settling himself comfortably with his fore-paws tucked under his chest, he began lapping up the milk.
Two seconds later, out from behind a bush stepped the blue-gum policeman, butterfly net, paint-pot and all, while from behind every other bush and flower-pot came all the courtiers, with their shoulders up to their ears and their elbows stuck out, walking on tiptoe towards the table.
"Come on, now, and see the fun," whispered Coco Bolo, leading the way round to the front of the throne, where they all stood watching and waiting to see what was to happen next.
The policeman and the courtiers had crept up close to the table; the former already had his butterfly net extended at arm's length to clap it down over Thomas A'Becket; it seemed as though the cat would surely be caught this time, when suddenly a brilliant idea popped into Margaret's head. Jumping into the seat of the throne, she clapped her hands to her mouth and shouted: