“Perhaps,” said Prince Bilbo, “he’ll tell us to-night how the magic doublet came to be—”
“Well,” said the King, “if it isn’t a long story— Is it a long story?”
“No, no, your majesty,” said Solario, bowing again, “it is quite short.”
“Hum!” said the King. “If you’re sure it’s not a long story—Why don’t you begin?” and he sat down in the Executioner’s chair.
Solario took his place cross-legged on the table again, and the others resumed their seats before him,—all except the Executioner, who stood, with the Encourager on his shoulder, behind the King.
“My dear,” said the Queen, “did you give the orders for locking the castle for the night?”
“I believe I usually attend to that,” said the King. “Solario, proceed.”
“If it is your pleasure,” said Solario, fingering his shears, “I will now relate to you the story concerning the magic doublet, as it was told to the Black Prince by his father the King of Wen, and by the Black Prince to me. The King of Wen, having directed his son regarding his mission to the City of Oogh, placed the doublet in his son’s left hand, and thus commenced what I may call
“THE STORY OF THE ENCHANTED HIGHWAYMAN.”
“I thought,” interrupted Bojohn, “you were going to tell us the story of the magic doublet.”