quick from
one to the other.

At last the final act was begun; the king came running in with a sword
in his hand, why, he did not know, until he saw his poor little queen
struggling in the arms of the odd man. 'Ah,' thought he, 'it is to
drive him away! Then we shall be by ourselves again, and happy.'

No one ever fought so wonderfully on a stage before as the little
cow-herd. All the court started to their feet, shouting; and still,
while they shouted, they laughed to see the impossible odd man
scooping about with his sword, and jerking head over heels, and high
up into the air, to get away from the little king's sword-play. The
partner had to keep snatching him up out of harm's way, for fear of a
wrong ending. Then, suddenly he let him come down with a jump on the
little king's head. And at that the king fell back upon the ground,
and felt a sharp pain go through his heart.

The odd man drew out his sword and laughed; on the end of it was a
tiny drop of blood. The poor little queen ran up, and bent down to
look in her lover's face, to know if he were really hurt. And then a
terrible thing happened.

Three times the little king raised his sword and pointed it at her
heart, and dropped it again. And all the time the partner was tugging
at the strings, and swearing by all the worst things he knew.

The little king felt himself growing weak; he was very frightened. He
felt as if he were going away altogether, and leaving her to think
he did not love her any more. And still his arm went up and down,
pointing the sword at her heart.

The showman tugged angrily; then there was the sound of a wire that
snapped--the king had thrown away his sword.

He reached up his two arms, and laid them fast round the queen's neck.
'Now at last she knows that I have not left off loving her.' He felt
her drawing herself away, he held her more and more tightly to his
breast; and now her little face lay close against his. Nothing should
take her away from him now!

The showman pulled violently with all his might, to get her away;
there was a snapping of strings, and then--the queen reached out two
weak little hands, and laid them under her lover's head.

They lay quite still, quite still for a long time, and never moved.
'The play is over!' said the showman, disgusted and angry at the wreck
of his plot.

Suddenly the whole stage became showered with gold; the great queen
and all her court threw out showers of it like rain. It fell