t the group of boys. He saw
Berengar speak a word of apology to the biggest little duke and
disappear through the back-court.

A minute later, the boy entered the room.

"Berengar," said the empress, "it's very bad manners to make such a
noise in the park ... and just behind the palace too."

The boy looked at her with his serious little crimson face:

"Yes, mamma," he assented, gently.

"What happened?"

Berengar's lips began to tremble.

"It was that beastly sentry ..." he began.

"What about the sentry?"

"He ... he didn't present arms to me!"

"Didn't the sentry present arms to you? Why not?"

"I don't know!" cried Berengar, indignantly.

"But surely he always does?"

"Yes, but this time he did not. He did the first time when we passed,
but not the second time.... We were playing touch and, when we ran past
him the second time, he didn't present arms!"

Othomar began to scream with laughter.

"There's nothing to laugh at!" cried Berengar, angrily. "And I shall
tell papa and then you shall see."

"But, Berengar," said the empress, "did you expect the man to present
arms to you every time you ran past him while you were playing touch?"

Berengar reflected:

"He might at least have done it the second time. If it had been three,
or four, or five times, I could have understood.... But only the second
time!... What can the boys have thought of me?"

"Listen, Berengar," said the empress, "whatever happens, it is not at
all proper for you to call people names, whoever they may be, nor to
make such a noise in the park, right behind the palace. An emperor's son
never calls names, not even to a sentry. So now you must go straight to
that sentry and tell him you are sorry you lost your temper so."

"Mamma!" cried the child, in consternation.

The empress' face was inflexible:

"I insist, Berengar."

The boy looked at her with the greatest astonishment:

"But am I to say that ... to the sentry, mamma?"

"Yes."

Evidently Berengar at this moment failed to understand the order of the
universe; he suspected for an instant that the revolution had broken
out:

"But, mamma, I can't do that!"

"You must, Berengar, and at once."

"But, mamma, will papa approve of it?"

"Certainly, Berengar," said Othomar. "Whatever mamma tells you to do
papa of course approves of."

The boy looked up at Othomar helplessly; his little face grew long, his
sturdy little fists quivered. Then he burst into a fit of d