Then a regular force of detectives was organized, and the search continued day after day.  Every house in the country was examined in every nook and corner.  The cupboards even were all ransacked, and the bureau drawers.  The King had a favorite book of philosophy, and one motto which he had learned in his youth recurred to him.  It was this: 

“When a-seeking, seek in the unlikely places, as well as the likely; for no man can tell the road that lost things may prefer.”

So he ordered search to be made in unlikely as well as likely places, for the Princess; and it was carried so far that the people had all to turn their pockets inside out, and shake their shawls and table-cloths.  But it was all of no use.  Six months went by, and the Princess Rosetta had not been found.  The King and Queen were broken-hearted.  The Queen wept all day long, and her tears fell into her honey, until it was no longer sweet, and she could not eat it.  The King sat by himself and had no heart for anything.

[Illustration:  The bee guards patrolled the city.]

But the four nurses were in nearly as much distress.  Not only had they been very fond of the little Princess, and were grieving bitterly for her loss, but they had also a punishment to endure.  They had been released from custody, because there was really no evidence against them, but in view of their possible carelessness, and in perpetual reminder of the loss of the Princess, a sentence had been passed upon them.  They had been condemned to wear their bonnets the wrong way around, indoors and out, until the Princess should be found.  So the poor nurses wept into the crowns of their bonnets.  They had little peep-holes in the straw that they might see to get about, and they lifted up the capes in order to eat; but it was very trying.  The nurses were all pretty young women too, and the Head-nurse who came of quite a distinguished family was to have been married soon.  But how could she be a bride and wear a veil with her face in the crown of her bonnet?

The Head-nurse was quite clever, and she thought about the Princess’s disappearance, until finally her thoughts took shape.  One day she put on her shawl—­her bonnet was always on—­and set out to call on the Baron Greenleaf.  The Baron was an old man who was said to be versed in white magic, and lived in a stone tower with his servants and his house-keeper.

When the Head-nurse came into the tower-yard, the dog began to bark; he was not used to seeing a woman with her face in the crown of her bonnet.  He thought that her head must be on the wrong way, and that she was a monster, and had designs upon his master’s property.  So he barked and growled, and caught hold of her dress, and the Head-nurse screamed.  The Baron himself came running downstairs, and opened the door.  “Who is there?” cried he.

But when he saw the woman with her bonnet on wrong he knew at once that she must be one of the Princess’s nurses.  So he ordered off the dog, and ushered the nurse into the tower.  He led her into his study, and asked her to sit down.  “Now, madam, what can I do for you?” he inquired quite politely.