No further conversation was indulged in. The royal troops executed an about face and returned to the capital, convoying our reunited party of aliens.
As we drew up in the square the two glittering soldiers appeared in the turrets and sounded a call that drew the king to the balcony.
His majesty listened to the report of Olox with a beaming face, but his smiles fled when he learned how the traction interests of the realm were threatened by Gilhooly's returning sanity.
While this momentous question was still up for debate, Meigs plucked at the professor's sleeve.
"Tell the king, professor," said he, his eyes downcast, "that I see the error of my way and frankly acknowledge it. If I am ever so fortunate as to get back to Earth I shall be a reformer. Please ask the king when I can have my clothes."
And this was Meigs! Had the heavens fallen I could not have been more astounded.
"Tell him the same for me," spoke Hannibal Markham. "Make it even stronger, if you will. I have not been starved into submission—I should have withstood such a siege to the death—but the change has been wrought here."
He struck a hand against his heart.
"And ask him, professor," added Markham plaintively, "to have my wants supplied immediately from the palace kitchens."
"Allow me to join my honorable friends in this free announcement of a change of heart," chimed in Augustus Popham. "Look at my hands!"