"Egad!" said he. "A remarkable achievement, it seems. I 'm beginning to be proud of it."
"The Prince!" exclaimed the girl in amazement.
"An uninvited guest, Mistress Dyke," said his Highness, jovially.
"And therefore doubly welcome, sir," returned Moore, at the door listening to the murmur that came from below. "Your Highness, they are coming up I am afraid. They have traced you here."
"Devilish awkward," muttered the Prince, looking around for a weapon; "I shall have to fight, I fancy."
"No, no," said Moore. "That is no way to get out of this mess. We would be beaten down in a moment."
"We?"
"Aye, Sire, Mr. Dyke, you and I. I have a better scheme, if you will trust yourself to me."
"I prefer you to our friends."
"Then hide in the next room," said the poet, drawing back the curtain. "I 'll get them off your track or my name is not Tom Moore. Whatever you hear, don't stir out, your Highness."