2 2 & 
THE STRAND MAGAZINE. 
“ please your Majesty, if we might have 
lessons from you.” 
The King answered, but the Princess did 
not hear. She was speaking with Ulfin apart. 
“ Ulfin/’ she said, u this captive King is 
my father.” 
“ Yes. Princess/’ said Ulfin. 
“ And he does not know me.” 
t( He will/’ said Ulfin, strongly. 
“ Did you know ? ” 
“ Yes*” 
“ But the people of your land will punish 
you for bringing us here if they find out that 
he is my father, and that you have brought 
us together. They will kill you. Why did 
you do it, Ulfin ? ” 
“ Because you washed it. Princess/’ he 
said, “ and because I would rather die for 
you than live without you.” 
The children thought they had never seen 
a kinder face or more noble bearing than that 
of the Professor of Conchology, but the Mer- 
Princess could not bear to look at him. 
She now felt what Mavis had felt when Cathy 
failed to recognize her — the misery of being 
looked at without recognition by the eyes 
that we know and love. She turned away, 
and pretended to be looking at the leaves of 
the seaweed hedge while Mavis and Francis 
were arranging to take lessons in Conchology 
three days a week from two to four. 
‘‘Yes/’ said the Professor; “1 am only 
an exiled individual, teaching Conchology 
to youthful aliens, but I retain some remnants 
of the wisdom of my many years. I know 
that 1 am not what I seem, and that you’re 
not either, and that your desire to learn my 
special subject is not sincere and whole- 
hearted, but is merely, or mainly, the cloak 
to some other design. Is it not so, my 
child ? ” 
No one answered. His question was so 
plainly addressed to the Princess, and she 
must have felt the question, for she turned 
and said : — 
“ Yes, O most wise King.” 
“ I am no King,” said the Professor. 
“ Rather I am a weak child picking up pebbles 
by the shore of an infinite sea of know- 
ledge.” 
“ You are” the Princess was beginning, 
impulsively, when Ulfin interrupted her. 
“ Lady, lady ! ” he said, “ all will be lost. 
Can you not play your part better than this ? 
If you continue these indiscretions, my head 
will undoubtedly pay the forfeit. Not that 
I should for a moment grudge that trifling 
service, but if my head is cut off you will 
be left without a friend in this strange 
country, and I shall die with the annoying 
consciousness that I shall no longer be able 
to serve you.” 
He whispered this into the Princess’s ear, 
while the Professor of Conchology looked on 
with mild surprise. 
“ Your attendant,” he observed, “ is 
eloquent, but inaudible.” 
" I mean to be,” said Ulfin, with a sudden 
change of manner. “ Look here, sir ; I don’t 
suppose you care what becomes of you.” 
“Not in the least,” said the Professor. 
“ But I suppose you would be sorry if 
anything uncomfortable happened to your 
new r pupils ? ” 
“ Yes,” said the Professor, and his eye 
dwelt on Freia. 
“ Then please concentrate your powerful 
mind on being a professor. Think of nothing 
else. More depends on this than you can 
easily believe.” 
“ Believing is easy,” said the Professor* 
“ To-morrow at two, I think you said.” 
And with a grave salutation he turned 
his back on the company and walked away 
through his garden. 
They reached the many-windowed prison, 
gave up their tickets-of-leave, and re-entered 
it. It was not till they were in the salon and 
the evening was over that Bernard spoke of 
what w r as in every heart. 
“ Look here,” he said. “ I think Ulfin 
means to help us to escape.” 
“Do you ? ” said Mavis. “ What I w'ant 
is to get the Mer-King restored to his sorrowing 
relations.” 
The Mer-Princess pressed her hand affec- 
tionately. 
“ So "do I,” said Francis. “ But 1 want 
something more than that even. I want to 
stop this war. For always.” 
“ But how can you ? ” said the Mer- 
Princess, leaning her elbows on the table. 
“ There always has been war, I tell you. 
People would get slack and silly and cowardly 
if there were no wars.” 
“ If I were King,” said Francis, who was 
now thoroughly roused, “ there should never 
be any more wars. There are plenty of 
things to be brave about without hurting 
other brave people.” 
“Yes,” said Mavis; “and, oh, Francis, 
I think you’re right. But what can w r e do ? ” 
“ I shall ask to see the Queen of the Under- 
folk, and try to make her see sense. She 
didn’t look an absolute duffer.” 
They all gasped at the glorious and simple 
daring of the idea. But the Mer-Princess 
said : — 
