“We are in for it,” cautioned Thorndyke, “now don't be afraid of your shadow; we'll come out all right.”
“The king has sent for you,” said the page, the next instant. “Go to the throne.”
They were the cynosure of the entire room as they went up the carpeted steps of the dais and knelt before the king.
Chapter VI.
“Rise!” commanded the king, in a deep, well-modulated voice, and when they had arisen he inspected them critically, his eyes lingering on Thorndyke.
“You look as if you take life easily; you have a jovial countenance,” he said cordially.
Thorndyke returned his smile and at once felt at ease.
“There is no use in taking it any other way,” he said; “it doesn't amount to much at best.”
“You are wrong,” returned the king, playing with the jewels on his robe, “that is because you have been reared as you have—in your unsystematic world. Here we make life a serious study. It is our object to assist nature in all things. The efforts of your people amount to nothing because they are not carried far enough. Your scientists are dreaming idiots. They are continually groping after the ideal and doing nothing with the positive. It was for us to carry out everything to perfection. Show me where we can make a single improvement and you shall become a prince.”