old woman of the hills was an ancient character about whom clung a
thousand spookish traditions, but who, in the opinion of John Tuilis,
was nothing more than a wise fortune-teller and necromancer who knew
every trick in the trade of hoodwinking the superstitious. He had seen
her and he had been properly impressed. Somehow, he did not like the
thought of taking the Prince to the cabin among the mists and crags.

"They say she eats boys, now and then," he added, as if suddenly
remembering it.

"Gee! Do you suppose we could get there some day when she's eating one?"

As they rode back to the Castle after an hour, coming down through
Castle Avenue from the monastery road, they passed a tall, bronzed young
man whom Tullis at once knew to be an American. He was seated on a big
boulder at the roadside, enjoying the shade, and was evidently on his
way by foot to the Castle gates to watch the _beau monde_ assembling for
the review. At his side was the fussy, well-known figure of Cook's
interpreter, eagerly pointing out certain important personages to bun as
they passed. Of course, the approach of the Prince was the excuse for
considerable agitation and fervour on the part of the man from Cook's.
He mounted the boulder and took off his cap to wave it frantically.

"It's the Prince!" he called out to Truxton King. "Stand up! Hurray!
Long live the Prince!"

Tullis had already lifted his hand in salute to his countryman, and both
had smiled the free, easy smile of men who know each other by instinct.

The man from Cook's came to grief. He slipped from his perch on the rock
and came floundering to the ground below, considerably crushed in
dignity, but quite intact in other respects.

The spirited pony that the Prince was riding shied and reared in quick
affright. The boy dropped his crop and clung valiantly to the reins. A
guardsman was at the pony's head in an instant, and there was no
possible chance for disaster.

Truxton King unbent his long frame, picked up the riding crop with a
deliberateness that astonished the man from Cook's, strode out into the
roadway and handed it up to the boy in the saddle.

"Thank you," said Prince Bobby.

"Don't mention it," said Truxton King with his most engaging smile. "No
trouble at all."

CHAPTER III

MANY PERSONS IN REVIEW

Truxton King witnessed the review of the garrison. That in itself was
rather a tame exhibition for a man who had seen the finest troops in all
the w