Red Riding-Hood gazed after him, remarking (all in the same breath and tone): 

    “How kind he is, how gentle and how good! 
     But, see what evil beast comes through the wood!”

Here William entered amid wild applause.  On the stage he found that his one eye-hole gave him an excellent view of the audience.  His mother and father were in the second row.  Turning his head round slowly he discovered his sister Ethel sitting with a friend near the back.

“William,” hissed the prompter, “go on!  ‘A wolf am I——­’”

But William was engrossed in the audience.  There was Mrs. Clive about the middle of the room.

“’A wolf am I’—­go on, William!”

William had now found the cook and housemaid in the last row of all and was turning his eye-hole round in search of fresh discoveries.

The prompter grew desperate.

“‘A wolf am I—­a wolf on mischief bent.’ Say it, William.”

William turned his wolf’s head towards the wings.  “Well, I was goin’ to say it,” he said irritably, “if you’d lef’ me alone.”

The audience tittered.

“Well, say it,” said the voice of the invisible prompter.

“Well, I’m going to,” said William.  “I’m not goin’ to say that again wot you said ’cause they all heard it.  I’ll go on from there.”

The audience rocked in wild delight.  Behind the scenes Mrs. de Vere Carter wrung her hands and sniffed strong smelling-salts.  “That boy!” she moaned.

Then William, sinking his voice from the indignant clearness with which it had addressed the prompter, to a muffled inaudibility, continued: 

     “To eat this little maid is my intent.”

But there leapt on the stage again the radiant white and blue figure of the Prince brandishing his wooden sword.

    “Avaunt!  Begone!  You wicked wolf, away! 
     This gentle maid shall never be your prey.”

At this point William should have slunk away.  But the vision revealed by his one available eye-hole of the Prince standing in a threatening attitude with one arm round Joan filled him with a sudden and unaccountable annoyance.  He advanced slowly and pugnaciously towards the Prince; and the Prince, who had never before acted with William in his head (which was hired for one evening only) fled from the stage with a wild yell of fear.  The curtain was lowered hastily.

There was consternation behind the scenes.  William, glaring from out his eye-hole and refusing to remove his head, defended himself in his best manner.

“Well I di’n’t tell him to run away, did I?  I di’n’t mean him to run away.  I only looked at him.  Well, I was goin’ to slink in a minit.  I only wanted to look at him.  I was goin’ to slink.”

“Oh, never mind!  Get on with the play!” moaned Mrs. de Vere Carter.  “But you’ve quite destroyed the atmosphere, William.  You’ve spoilt the beautiful story.  But hurry up, it’s time for the grandmother’s cottage scene now.”