eally love
each other could live happily on less than the cheque he had in his
pocket. However, the king shouted very loud, as he always did when he
meant to be obeyed, and the prince sauntered slowly back again.

"Prigio!" said his majesty, "where were you off to? Don't you remember
that this is your wedding-day? My proclamation offered, not only the
money (which you have), but the hand of the Lady Molinda, which the Court
chaplain will presently make your own. I congratulate you, sir; Molinda
is a dear girl."

"I have the highest affection and esteem for my cousin, sir," said the
prince, "but--"

"I'll never marry him!" cried poor Molinda, kneeling at the throne, where
her streaming eyes and hair made a pretty and touching picture. "Never!
I despise him!"

{Molinda before the King: p117.jpg}

"I was about to say, sir," the prince went on, "that I cannot possibly
have the pleasure of wedding my cousin."

"The family gibbet, I presume, is in good working order?" asked the king
of the family executioner, a tall gaunt man in black and scarlet, who was
only employed in the case of members of the blood royal.

"Never better, sire," said the man, bowing with more courtliness than his
profession indicated.

"Very well," said the king; "Prince Prigio, you have your choice. _There_
is the gallows, _here_ is Lady Molinda. My duty is painful, but clear. A
king's word cannot be broken. Molly, or the gibbet!"

The prince bowed respectfully to Lady Molinda:

"Madam, my cousin," said he, "your clemency will excuse my answer, and
you will not misinterpret the apparent discourtesy of my conduct. I am
compelled, most unwillingly, to slight your charms, and to select the
Extreme Rigour of the Law. Executioner, lead on! Do your duty; for me,
_Prigio est pret_;"--for this was his motto, and meant that he was ready.

Poor Lady Molinda could not but be hurt by the prince's preference for
death over marriage to her, little as she liked him.

{The family executioner: p119.jpg}

"Is life, then, so worthless? and is Molinda so terrible a person that
you prefer _those_ arms," and she pointed to the gibbet, "to
_these_?"--here she held out her own, which were very white, round and
pretty: for Molinda was a good-hearted girl, she could not bear to see
Prigio put to death; and then, perhaps, she reflected that there are
worse positions than the queenship of Pantouflia. For Alphonso was
gone--crying would not bring him ba