nds.

All the little men who witnessed this scene deluged their cross-bows
with tears. Only King Loc remained serene. And Honcy-Bee, overcome by
his magnanimity and his goodness, felt for him the love of a daughter
for a father.

She took her lover's hand.

"George," she said, "I love you. God knows how much I love you. But how
can I leave little King Loc?"

"Hallo, there?" King Loc cried in a terrible voice, "now you are my
prisoners!"

But this terrible voice he only used for fun and just as a joke, for he
really was not at all angry. Here Francoeur approached and knelt before
him.

"Sire," he cried, "may it please your Majesty to let me share the
captivity of the masters I serve?"

Said Honey-Bee, recognising him:

"Is it you, my good Francoeur? How glad I am to see you again. What a
horrid cap you've got on! Tell me, have you composed any new songs?"

And King Loc took them all three to dinner.

XXII

In which all ends well

The next morning Honey-Bee, George and Francoeur again arrayed
themselves in the splendid garments prepared for them by the dwarfs, and
proceeded to the banquet-hall where, as he had promised, King Loc,
in the robes of an Emperor, soon joined them. He was followed by his
officers fully armed, and covered with furs of barbarous magnificence,
and in their helmets the wings of swans. Crowds of hurrying dwarfs came
in through the windows, the air-holes and the chimneys, and rolled under
the benches.

King Loc mounted a stone table one end of which was laden with flagons,
candelabra, tankards, and cups of gold of marvellous workmanship. He
signed to Honey-Bee and to George to approach.

"Honey-Bee," he said, "by a law of the nation of the dwarfs it is
decreed that a stranger received in our midst shall be free after seven
years. You have been with us seven years, Honey-Bee, and I should be a
disloyal citizen and a blameworthy king should I keep you longer. But
before permitting you to go I wish, not having been able to wed you
myself, to betroth you to the one you have chosen. I do so with joy for
I love you more than I love myself, and my pain, if such remains, is
like a little cloud which your happiness will dispel. Honey-Bee of
Clarides, Princess of the Dwarfs, give me your hand, and you, George of
Blanchelande, give me yours."

Placing the hand of George in the hand of Honey-Bee he turned to his
people and said with a ringing voice:

"Little men, my children, you