"Not I, sir. You rid us of them very neatly."
"For a while, your Highness. They may return."
"True," said Wales, "so we had best lose no time in getting help."
"Your Highness is right," said the poet, beginning to restore the room to something like its old appearance. "Father-in-law, run out and--"
"Let me arrange this," interrupted the Prince. "Mr. Dyke, if you will carry this ring to the house of Sir Percival Lovelace, you will find him at supper. Tell him of my predicament and say I bid him take such steps as he may deem best to extricate me from this misadventure without betraying my identity."
Mr. Dyke took the ring held out to him by the Prince.
"I 'll make haste," he said, and toddled out and down the stairs as fast as his legs could carry him.
Wales accepted the chair which Moore placed for him.
"Sir," said he, "you have a talent for intrigue."
"Ah, Sire," said Moore, ingenuously, "if it were not disrespectful, I would return the compliment. Your Highness must have passed an exciting evening."