there was nothing but miles on miles of snowy mountains before
them, nothing but long struggle and privation to be hoped for; still
they were out of India, out of an enemy's country. For which Heaven be
thanked!

So they wrapped themselves in their quilts and lay down to rest with
hearts eased for the time of immediate anxiety.

Head-nurse, however, began at once, after her wont, to make plans for
resuming some of the courtly ways which hurry had made impossible. The
gold embroidered royal red umbrella was one thing she was determined to
have.

But who was to hold it over the Royal Infant? Roy would get tired of it
during a long march. He was but a boy; and after all there should be a
Deputy, Assistant, Second, Umbrella Bearer to Majesty.

Could Meroo, properly dressed, of course, be promoted to the position?

She actually woke Foster-father from his well-earned first sleep to
propound this knotty question.

"Good woman," he murmured patiently, "make what court appointments ye
will. Create the scullion Prime Minister, so I have my sleep."

And he was snoring almost before the words were out of his mouth.

So next morning Head-nurse, refusing the baggage camel with panniers
which Prince Askurry sent for the use of the little Heir-to-Empire,
organised a procession of her own.

First of all came Foster-father, stout and solid, on his skew-bald hill
pony which was called Horse-chestnut because it was patched all over,
like an unripe chestnut, with yellow, brown and white.

It had a lovely tail that touched the ground, and a coat that was long
and wavy like an Irish setter's. A wise, sober pony was Horse-chestnut;
he never attempted to climb up anything he thought too difficult, but
just gave a look at it to make sure and then put down his head calmly,
and began to graze until his rider found an easier path.

Next came Trooper Faithful on his old white charger Lightning. Once upon
a time it had been like its name, swift exceedingly, but now, like its
master, it was slow and stiff.

Then followed Head-nurse, astride, in Indian fashion, the bay Belooch
mare which had been Queen Humeeda's favourite mount until it had had to
be left behind in one of the hasty moves which had of late been so
common in the hunted life of the Royal Fugitives. The mare, of course,
had been taken by the pursuers, and brought along with them; and the
groom in charge of it had come grinning with delight to Foster-father
when he found hims