The Complete Sylvie and Bruno Stories With Their Original Illustrations. Lewis Carroll

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      ‘What a game!’

      ‘What a game, oh, what a game!’ cried the Chancellor. And he and the Vice-Warden joined hands, and skipped wildly about the room. My Lady was too dignified to skip, but she laughed like the neighing of a horse, and waved her handkerchief above her head: it was clear to her very limited understanding that something very clever had been done, but what it was she had yet to learn.

      ‘You said I should hear all about it when the Warden had gone,’ she remarked, as soon as she could make herself heard.

      ‘And so you shall, Tabby!’ her husband graciously replied, as he removed the blotting-paper, and showed the two parchments lying side by side. ‘This is the one he read but didn’t sign: and this is the one he signed but didn’t read! You see it was all covered up, except the place for signing the names—’

      ‘Yes, yes!’ my Lady interrupted eagerly, and began comparing the two Agreements. ‘“Item, that he shall exercise the authority of Warden, in the Warden’s absence.” Why, that’s been changed into “shall be absolute governor for life, with the title of Emperor, if elected to that office by the people.” What! Are you Emperor, darling?’

      ‘Not yet, dear,’ the Vice-Warden replied. ‘It wo’n’t do to let this paper be seen, just at present. All in good time.’

      My Lady nodded, and read on. ‘“Item, that we will be kind to the poor.” Why, that’s omitted altogether!’

      ‘Course it is!’ said her husband. ‘We’re not going to bother about the wretches!’

      ‘Good,’ said my Lady, with emphasis, and read on again. ‘“Item, that the contents of the Treasury be preserved intact.” Why, that’s altered into “shall be at the absolute disposal of the Vice-Warden”! Well, Sibby, that was a clever trick! All the Jewels, only think! May I go and put them on directly?’

      ‘Well, not just yet, Lovey,’ her husband uneasily replied. ‘You see the public mind isn’t quite ripe for it yet. We must feel our way. Of course we’ll have the coach-and-four out, at once. And I’ll take the title of Emperor, as soon as we can safely hold an Election. But they’ll hardly stand our using the Jewels, as long as they know the Warden’s alive. We must spread a report of his death. A little Conspiracy—’

      ‘A Conspiracy!’ cried the delighted lady, clapping her hands. ‘Of all things, I do like a Conspiracy! It’s so interesting!’

      The Vice-Warden and the Chancellor interchanged a wink or two. ‘Let her conspire to her heart’s content!’ the cunning Chancellor whispered. ‘It’ll do no harm!’

      ‘And when will the Conspiracy—’

      ‘Hist!’ her husband hastily interrupted her, as the door opened, and Sylvie and Bruno came in, with their arms twined lovingly round each other—Bruno sobbing convulsively, with his face hidden on his sister’s shoulder, and Sylvie more grave and quiet, but with tears streaming down her cheeks.

      ‘Mustn’t cry like that!’ the Vice-Warden said sharply, but without any effect on the weeping children. ‘Cheer ’em up a bit!’ he hinted to my Lady.

      ‘Cake!’ my Lady muttered to herself with great decision, crossing the room and opening a cupboard, from which she presently returned with two slices of plum-cake. ‘Eat, and don’t cry!’ were her short and simple orders: and the poor children sat down side by side, but seemed in no mood for eating.

      For the second time the door opened—or rather was burst open, this time, as Uggug rushed violently into the room, shouting ‘that old Beggar’s come again!’

      ‘He’s not to have any food—’ the Vice-Warden was beginning, but the Chancellor interrupted him. ‘It’s all right,’ he said, in a low voice: ‘the servants have their orders.’

      ‘He’s just under here,’ said Uggug, who had gone to the window, and was looking down into the court-yard.

      ‘Where, my darling?’ said his fond mother, flinging her arms round the neck of the little monster. All of us (except Sylvie and Bruno, who took no notice of what was going on) followed her to the window. The old Beggar looked up at us with hungry eyes. ‘Only a crust of bread, your Highness!’ he pleaded. He was a fine old man, but looked sadly ill and worn. ‘A crust of bread is what I crave!’ he repeated. ‘A single crust, and a little water!’

      ‘Here’s some water, drink this!’ Uggug bellowed, emptying a jug of water over his head.