232 
THE STRAND MAGAZINE. 
the throne. Their sad faces were lighted up 
with pleasure as they watched the gambols 
of their new pet, Fido, a dear little earth- 
child who was playing with a ball of soft 
pink seaweed. 
“ 1 have curious dreams sometimes/' said 
the Queen to the King. “ dreams so vivid 
that they are more like memories/' 
“ Has it ever occurred to you/ 1 said the 
King, “ that we have no memories of our 
childhood or our youth ? ” 
“ I believe,” said the Queen, slowly,, “ that 
we have tasted in our time of the oblivion- 
cup. There is no one like us in this land. 
If we were born here why can we not remem- 
ber our parents, who must have been like 
us ? And, dearest , the dream that comes to 
me most often is that we once had a child 
and lost it, and that it was a child like us.” 
“ Fido,” said the King, in a low voice, 
<£ is like us.” And he stroked the head of 
Cathy, who had forgotten everything except 
that she was Fide, and bore the Queen’s 
name on her collar. “ But if you remember 
that we had a child, it cannot be true — if 
we drank of the oblivion - cup, that is — 
because, of course, that would make you 
forget everything.” 
“ It couldn’t make a mother forget her 
child/’ said the Queen, and she caught up 
Fido-wliich-was-Cathy and kissed her. 
Even as she spoke the hangings of cloth 
of gold rustled at the touch of someone out- 
side, and a tall figure entered. 
“ Bless my soul/’ said the King of the 
IJnderfolk, “ it’s the Professor of Con- 
chology ! ” 
“ No/ 7 said the figure, advancing, “ it is 
the King of the Mer -people. My brother 
King, my sister Queen, I greet you.” 
“ This is most irregular,” said the King. 
“ Never mind, dear,” said the Queen. 
“ Let us hear what he has to say.” 
“ 1 say, let there be peace between our 
people,” said the Mer-King. “ In countless 
ages these wars have been waged, for countless 
ages your people and mine have suffered. 
Even the origin of the war is lost in the mists 
of antiquity. Now I come to you — I, your 
prisoner. 1 was given to drink of the cup 
of oblivion, and forget who I was and whence 
I came. Now a counter-charm has given 
me back mind and memory. I come in the 
name of my people. If we have wronged you 
we ask your forgiveness. If you have 
wronged us, we freely forgive you. Say, 
shall it be peace, and shall all the sons of the 
sea live as brothers in love and kindliness 
for evermore ? ?> 
“ Really,” said the King of the Underfolk, 
“ I think it is not at all a bad idea, but in 
confidence, and between monarchs, my mind 
is so imperfect that I dare not consult it. 
But my heart ” 
“ Your heart says ‘yes/” said his Queen. 
“ So does mine. But our troops are besieging 
your city,” she said. “ They will say that 
in asking for peace you were paying the 
tribute of the vanquished.” 
“ My people will not think this of me,” 
said the King of Merland, “ nor will your 
people think it of you. Let us join hands in 
peace and the love of Royal brethren.” 
“ What a dreadful noise they are making 
outside ! ” said the King, and indeed the noise 
of shouting and singing was now to be heard 
on every side of the palace. 
“If there was a balcony, now, where we 
could show ourselves/’ suggested the King 
of Merland. 
“ The very thing,” said the Queen, catching 
up her pet Fido-which-was-Cathy in her arms, 
and leading the way to the great curtained 
arch at the end of the hall. She drew back 
the swinging, sweeping hangings of woven 
seaweed and stepped forth on the balcony, 
the two kings close behind her. But she 
stopped short and staggered back a little, 
so that her husband had to put an arm about 
her to support her. when her first glance 
showed her that the people who were shouting 
outside the palace were not, as she had sup- 
posed, Underfolk in some unexpected though 
welcome transport of loyal enthusiasm, but 
ranks on ranks of the enemy, the hated Mer- 
folk, all splendid and menacing in the pomp 
and circumstance of glorious war. 
“ It’s the enemy ! ” gasped the Queen. 
“ It is my people,” said the Mer-King. 
“ It is a beautiful thing in you, dear Queen, 
that you agreed to peace without terms, 
while you thought you were victorious, and 
not because the legions of the Mer-folk were 
thundering at your gates. May I speak 
for us ? ” 
They signed assent. And the Mer-King 
stepped forward full into view of the crowd 
in the street below. 
u My people!” he said, in a voice loud yet 
soft and very, very beautiful. And at the 
word the Mer-folk below looked up and recog- 
nized their long-lost King, and a shout went 
up that you could have heard a mile away. 
The King raised his hand for silence. 
£i My people,” he said, “ brave men of 
Merland, let there be peace, now and for ever, 
between us and our brave foes. The King 
and Queen of this land agreed to make peace, 
