"

"She shall be a mourning bride," cried the king savagely, "unless"--here
he paused for a moment--"unless you bring me back Alphohso and Enrico,
safe and well!"

The prince thought for the space of a flash of lightning.

"I accept the alternative," he said, "if your majesty will grant me my
conditions."

"Name them!" said the king.

"Let me be transported to Gluckstein, left there unguarded, and if, in
three days, I do not return with my brothers safe and well, your majesty
shall be spared a cruel duty. Prigio of Pantouflia will perish by his
own hand."

The king, whose mind did not work very quickly, took some minutes to
think over it. Then he saw that by granting the prince's conditions,
he would either recover his dear sons, or, at least, get rid of Prigio,
without the unpleasantness of having him executed. For, though some
kings have put their eldest sons to death, and most have wished to do
so, they have never been better loved by the people for their Roman
virtue.

"Honour bright?" said the king at last.

"Honour bright!" answered the prince, and for the first time in many
months, the royal father and son shook hands.

"For you, madam," said Prigio in a stately way to Lady Molinda, "in less
than a week I trust we shall be taking our vows at the same altar, and
that the close of the ceremony which finds us cousins will leave us
brother and sister."

Poor Molinda merely stared; for she could not imagine what he meant. In
a moment he was gone; and having taken, by the king's permission, the
flying carpet, he was back at the ambassador's house in Gluckstein.

[Illustration: Chapter Seventeen]

CHAPTER XVII.--_The Black Cat and the brethren_

WHO was glad to see the prince, if it was not Lady Rosalind? The white
roses of her cheeks turned to red roses in a moment, and then back to
white again, they were so alarmed at the change. So the two went into
the gardens together, and talked about a number of things; but at last
the prince told her that, before three days were over, all would be
well, or all would be over with him. For either he would have brought
his brothers back, sound and well, to Falkenstein, or he would not
survive his dishonour.

"It is no more than right," he said; "for had I gone first, neither of
them would have been sent to meet the monster after I had fallen. And I
_should_ have fallen, dear Rosalind, if I had faced the Firedrake before
I knew _you._"

Then when she asked