ronger, too, for now he broke his sword across his knee, and flung the
pieces out of the window. And with them went the last fragment of his
old loyalty to his King.

Old Adelbert was now, potentially, a traitor.

The spring came early that year. The last of February saw the parks
green. Snowdrops appeared in the borders of paths. The swans left their
wooden houses and drifted about in water much colder than the air. Bobby
abandoned the aeroplane for a kite and threw it aloft from Pike's Peak.
At night, when he undressed, marbles spilled out of his pockets and
rolled under the most difficult furniture. Although it was still cold
at nights and in the early mornings, he abandoned the white sweater and
took to looking for birds and nests in the trees of the park. It was,
of course, much too early for nests, but nevertheless he searched,
convinced that even if grown-ups talked wisely of more cold weather, he
and the birds knew it was spring. And, of course, the snow-drops.

On the morning after old Adelbert had turned his back on his King, Bobby
Thorpe rose early, so early, indeed, that even Pepy still slept in her
narrow bed, and the milk-sellers had not started on their rounds. The
early rising was a mistake, owing to a watch which had strangely gained
an hour.

Somewhat disconsolately, he wandered about. Heavy quiet reigned. From a
window he watched the meat-seller hang out a freshly killed deer, just
brought from the mountains He went downstairs and out on the street,
past the niece of the concierge, who was scrubbing the stairs.

"I'm going for a walk," he told her. "If they send Pepy down you might
tell her I'll be back for breakfast."

He stood for a time surveying the deer. Then he decided to go
hunting himself. The meat-seller obligingly gave him the handle of a
floor-brush, and with this improvised gun Bobby went deer-stalking. He
turned into the Park, going stealthily, and searching the landscape with
keen hunter's eyes. Once or twice he leveled his weapon, killed a deer,
cut off the head, and went on. His dog trotted, at his heels. When a
particularly good shot presented itself, Bobby said, "Down, Tucker," and
Tucker, who played extremely well, would lie down, ears cocked, until
the quarry was secured.

Around the old city gate, still standing although the wall of which it
had been a part was gone, there was excellent hunting. Here they killed
and skinned a bear, took fine ivory tusks from a dead elephant