but he had got no further than that, when, with tumultuous shouts, a body of soldiers came rushing round a corner, and, seeing the honey-cake maker on the ladder and his door open, they at once tumbled pell-mell into the shop.

no sooner did the unfortunate maker of cakes see this, than, in his haste to descend the ladder, his foot slipped, and he came to the ground, with the paint out of the pot running dismally all over his head.

"oh dear! oh dear!" the queen said, and went to pick him up, when, at that moment, the soldiers having found nothing in the shop but a tub of honey and a tub of flour, came out again, not quite as fast as they had entered, until they saw the queen, when they at once rushed to surround her, and one of them caught at her crown, and another at her bracelets, and another at her lace-handkerchief!

the queen said, "leave me alone, do you hear?"

but the soldiers answered, "in the queen's name, surrender."

"well, i shouldn't surrender in any name but my own, and i shan't surrender at all. i am the queen."

whereupon the leader of the soldiers, who had not had the fortune to get at any of the queen's jewellery, said, "release the lady;" and, rather crestfallen, the soldiers obeyed him.

"oh, your majesty," the leader said, kneeling, "we have had such a trouble to find you. the regent, discovering that your majesty had left the palace, told us to follow you with all haste to provide for your safety."

"so you provided for it by trying to rob people's houses," the queen said.

and the leader answered, "oh no, your majesty. we feared, knowing that james grubb is a noted rebel, that he had kidnapped your majesty, and so were making a domiciliary search."

"i'm not a noted rebel," the honey-cake maker gasped. "i'm only noted for my honey-cakes."

but no one noticed his little puff.

the queen said to the soldiers, "well, i don't want you. you can go; and don't make any more domiciliary searches."

the leader, however, answered, "oh, but, your majesty, domiciliary searches are most necessary in the present state of the kingdom."

"i don't care," the queen said; "i forbid you to make them. so now go away."

"but, your majesty," the leader answered, "the regent gave us orders to conduct your majesty back to the palace. it is not constitutional."

"i'm sure i don't care," the queen answered; "i'm not going back. good-bye."

and she suddenly flew straight up into the air and away over the housetops, and the last sight she had of them showed them, with their faces upturned towards her, gazing in dumb astonishment, the leader still on his knees and the honey-cake maker on his back in the street.

the beggar had long since slunk round a corner and disappeared.

so the queen rose to quite a great height in the air.

"i shall go right away from the town," she said "the smoke is so choking up here above the roofs. however people can live down there i can't make out."

so she went right up into the blue sky and made her way towards where, at the skirts of the town, the mountains rose steep and frowning.

up there, standing on the mountain's crest, she had a glorious view of sea and sky and town and country.

the sea threw back the deep blue of the sky above, and the white wave-horses flecked its surface, and the ships passed silently far out at sea; down below her feet, it beat against the rocky base of the cliff, and in and out amongst the spray the seagulls flew like a white cloud.

the town lay in a narrow valley, broad at the sea face, and running inwards into narrowness between grey, grand hills, right to where it disappeared in the windings of the pass. down below, in the harbour, she could see the boats getting ready for sea.

"oh, how wonderful!" the queen said; "and it all belongs to me—at least, so they say—though i can't quite see what good it does me, for i can't be everywhere at once. and i can't even make the hills move or the sea heave its breast; so that i can't see that it does me any more good than any one else, because it isn't even constitutional for me to be here. i ought to be down there in the palace garden, seeing nothing at all. however, it's very lovely here, so i mustn't grumble. i wonder how the bat is getting on, and the regent, and all."

so for a while she stayed, looking down at the town. into the streets she could not see, for the houses stood in the way, but she could see the market-place plainly enough and the palace steps.

presently a number of soldiers came running into the market-place, and up into the palace, and the queen knew they had come to announce her flight.

and then, a few minutes after, she saw then coming rapidly out of the doors.

"goodness me!" the queen said, "the regent is kicking them down the steps. i shan't go back there again, or he might take to kicking me."

so she set out along the hilltops, sometimes walking and sometimes flying over the valleys, so that, by the time the sun was near setting, she found herself in a great stretch of dreary uplands, with nothing like a house for miles around.

"now, whatever shall i do?" she said. "it's coming on quite dark, and i don't know where i am. i've a good mind to lie down and go to sleep on the heather; only there might be some sort of wild animals about, and it wouldn't be safe."

then the sun sank lower and lower, and the queen began to feel a little lonely and very nervous. there was not a sound to be heard, save the roar of a brook that ran, gleaming white, among the boulders in the gloom of the valley at her feet.

"if i fly right up in the air again i shall be safe, at any rate," the queen said. "i shan't go tumbling over precipices or getting eaten up by wolves."

so she flew right up into the upper air where she could see the sun again, and she tried to catch him up, flying fast, fast westwards. but she found that the sun went a great deal faster than she could go—for, you know, the sun goes a great deal more quickly than a train—and gradually he sank below the horizon, and the queen was left alone with nothing but the stars to keep her company.

as you may imagine, it was not the pleasantest of feelings, that flying through the pitch-dark night, and the queen felt continually afraid of running against something, though she was really far too high to do any such thing.

but, for all that, she had the dread constantly in her mind, until at last the moon crept silently into being above a hill, seeming like an old friend, and soon all the land below was bathed in white light. the queen glided on; like a black cloud, she could see her shadow running along the fields below her. she watched till she grew sleepier and sleepier, and found herself nodding, to wake with a start and then fall off to sleep again; till, at last, she fell asleep for good and all, and went sailing quietly along in the white night, whilst the moon gradually mounted up straight overhead, and then sank lower and lower, and the dawn began to wash the world below her with a warmer light.

but the queen slept softly on; and, indeed, never bed was softer than the air of the summer night.

the sun had been up some little while when she was awakened by just touching on the top of a lofty mountain, that reached up into the sky and stopped her progress; so that, when she was fully awakened, she found herself seated on its peak.

she rubbed her eyes, and in a moment remembered all that had happened before she had dropped off to sleep.

"goodness me! i feel awfully hungry," she said to herself, and, standing up, looked around her.

on the one side, the mountain towered above the uplands over which she had passed in the night, but they looked dreary and uninviting; on the other, in a fair plain, stood a town—she could see the smoke rising from the chimneys and the weather-cocks gleaming in the morning sunlight as they veered about in the breeze. so she flew gently down towards it, and the shepherds in the fields and the women at the cottage doors stared in amazement, and came rushing after her as she swept past through the air.

so, by the time she arrived in the town, quite a great crowd had followed her.

at last she alighted just before the town gates, and, as there was no guard to stop her, entered boldly enough, and walked on for a little way until she came to a shop that seemed to be a cake-shop, for one half of its window was full of cakes, and the other of boots and shoes. and, indeed, the owner, an old man with spectacles on, was seated on his doorstep busily working away at his cobbler's bench.

the queen said, "i want some cakes, please."

and the cobbler, looking up from his work, said, "then you've come to the right shop."

the crowd stood round in a ring and whispered.

"will you give me them, please?" the queen continued.

and the old cobbler answered, "i'll sell them to you."

"but i haven't got any money," the queen said.

"then you've come to the wrong shop," the cobbler said determinedly, and looked down again at his work.

"but i'm the queen," she said, remembering her former experience.

the cobbler said, "nonsense!" and took a little brass nail from his mouth.

"but i am the queen," the queen said angrily.

the cobbler knocked the nail into the shoe. "king mark's a widower," was all he said.

and the crowd laughed until the queen felt quite uncomfortable. she was not used to being stared at.

"why, i must have got into another country," she said to herself; "and, i suppose, the best thing to do will be to see the king. i dare say he'll give me enough to eat, for he'll tremble at my name."

so she said aloud, "take me to the king."

and so the crowd showed her the way, some going in front and some following; but all so anxious to see her that they stumbled over each other's legs.

but at last they came to the palace, and the crowd opened to make way for her. to tell the truth, they seemed rather afraid to enter, but the queen marched in boldly enough till she came to a great hall. long before she had time to make out what it was like, an enormous voice shouted—

"who the dickens are you?"

and, looking at the throne, she could make out an enormous, black-bearded man seated thereon. he was a great deal more ugly than the regent at home had been, and his red eyes twinkled underneath black, shaggy brows, like rubies in a cavern.

"who are you?" he shouted.

and whilst his fearful voice echoed down the great dark hall, the queen answered—

"if you won't tremble, i'll tell you."

the king gave a tremendous roar of laughter. "ho, what a joke!" he said, and, to enforce it, he punched in the ribs the chamberlain who stood at his right hand, and that so violently that the wretched man rolled down the throne steps, taking care to laugh vigorously the whole time, until the king roared, "be quiet, you idiot!" when the chamberlain at once grew silent. then the king said, somewhat more softly, "i'll try very hard not to tremble; but if i'm very frightened you won't mind, i hope."

and all the courtiers laughed so loud and long at the king's sarcasm, that the queen had some difficulty in making herself heard.

then she said, "i am eldrida, by the grace of god queen of the narrowlands and all the isles."

the king really did seem a little startled.

"what in the world do you want here, then?" he said, and his red eyes glowed again.

"i want something to eat," the queen said.

the king seemed lost in thought. "your majesty shall have something if——"

"if what?" the queen asked.

"if you will marry me," the king said in a tone that was meant to be sweet; but it rather reminded the queen of a bull she had once heard grumbling angrily.

she answered decidedly, "i shan't do anything of the sort."

the king said, "why not?"

"because you're a great deal too cruel and ugly," the queen answered. "what did you knock that poor man down for? i can't bear that sort of wickedness. and as for ugliness, why, you're worse than the regent himself, and he's the ugliest man i ever saw."

the king immediately became so convulsed with rage that he could only roar till the windows shook out of their frames and shattered on the ground; and the queen stopped her ears with her fingers, perfectly aghast at the storm she had raised.

at last the king regained his powers of speech. "if you don't marry me this very day," he said, "i'll have you beheaded, i'll have you hanged, i'll have you thrown from the top of the highest tower in the town and smash you to pieces."

"you couldn't do anything of the sort," the queen said calmly.

thereupon the king's rage became quite frightful to see, especially for the courtiers who were nearest him, for he rushed among them and began to kick them so that they flew into the air; indeed, it seemed as if the air was full of them. but, in the middle of it, he suddenly made a dash at the queen, and, before she could avoid him, had seized her in his fearful grasp.

"i'll show you if i can't dash you to pieces," he said, and in a minute he had seized her and rushed out into the open air, carrying her like a kitten.

up to the little door at the foot of the palace tower he went and kicked it open so violently that it banged against the wall and quivered again with the shock, and then round and round and round, and up and up and up, a little dark winding stair, until a sudden burst of light showed that they were at the top.

"now i'll show you," he muttered, and, shaking her violently he threw her over the side.

but she only dropped softly a short way, and then hovered up again till she played in the air around the tower.

the astonishment of the king was now even greater than his former rage.

"i told you how it would be," the queen said. "and, if you'll take my advice, you won't lose your temper so fearfully again. it might really make you ill."

but the king said nothing at all, being a little out of breath at having come so quickly up the tower steps. so the queen flew gaily off again without saying "good-bye."

but down at the base of the tower the courtiers, discovering that the king was nicely trapped, quietly shut the door and locked it. then they gave a sigh of relief, and left him till he died. they had been long looking out for such an opportunity.

the queen, however, knew nothing of that. she flew on for a time, being far too excited to remember her hunger; but at last it came back to her with redoubled force, and she determined to descend at the first house she came to and try to get some food somehow. but, by that time, the country had become sandy and dry, with only a few reeds bristling out over it here and there, and no signs of cultivation or even of houses.

"now, whatever shall i do?" she said to herself, as she flew along so dose to the ground that the wind of her flight made the sand flit about in little clouds. "i'm so awfully hungry and—— why, there is some sort of a building!—at least it looks like one."

and there, in a hollow among the sand-dunes, stood a funny little black erection, such as you might see upon a beach.

so the queen alighted and walked towards the house. in front of the door a cat was sitting—a black cat. but not a magnificent creature with a glossy coat that sits on the rug in front of the drawing-room fire and only drinks cream, deeming mice too vulgar. this was a long-limbed, little creature, that looked half-starved and seemed as if its proper occupation would be stealing along, very lanky and grim in the moonlight, over the dunes to catch rabbits.

so the queen stopped and looked at the cat, and the cat sat and looked at the queen.

the black pupils of its yellow eyes dilated and diminished in a most composed manner.

"poor pussy!" the queen said, and bent to scratch its neck.

but the cat took no kind of notice, so the queen lifted the cat in her arms, whereupon it gave vent to an awe-inspiring yell.

the door flew violently open, and the queen, in alarm, let the cat go, and it dashed into the house behind an old woman, but such an ugly old woman that the queen was quite startled.

"well, what do you want?" the old woman sod.

"oh, i want something to eat," the queen said.

the old woman gave a cunning leer. "something to eat, my dear young lady," she said, "why, whatever made you expect to find anything to eat fit for the likes of you in such a place?"

"oh, i'm not particular," the queen said; "only i'm very hungry."

"and what will you pay me?" the old woman said.

"i—i can't pay you anything," the queen said. "you see, i haven't got any money."

the old woman smiled again, in a nasty way. "oh well," she said, "i'll give you some food, if you'll do a day's work for it."

"what sort of work?" the queen said. "i'm not very clever at work, you know."

"oh, quite easy work—just goose-herding."

the queen said, "oh, i dare say i could do that."

and the old woman answered, "oh, very well; come along in, then."

and the queen followed her into a dirty little room, with only a table and a long bench in it.

but there was a fine wood fire crackling on the hearth, and before it a goose was slowly turning on the spit, so that it did not look quite as dismal as otherwise it might have done.

the queen sat herself down at the table, and the old woman and the cat were engaged in sitting on the hearth watching the fire.

they did not seem at all talkative, and so the queen held her peace.

at last the old woman gave a grunt, for the goose was done, and so she got up and found a plate and knife and fork, and put them before the queen, with the goose on a dish and a large hunk of bread.

"there," she said, "that's all i can give you."

and so, although the food was by no meant as dainty as what she would have had at home in the palace, the queen was so remarkably hungry that she made a much larger meal than she ever remembered to have made.

and all the while the cat sat and stared at her, and seemed to grow positively bigger with staring so much, though when the queen held out a piece of the goose to it, it merely sniffed contemptuously so that the queen felt quite humiliated.

"your cat doesn't seem to be very sociable," she said to the old woman.

and the old woman answered, "why should he be?" and took up a large twig broom to sweep the hearth with.

that done, she leant upon it and regarded the queen malevolently.