“Will Your Majesty see the Red Rover’s dance?”

“No, if you please,” said Polly, with gentle seriousness.

“Will Your Majesty fire this barrel of Gunpowder, or tap this breaker of Grog?”

“No, I thank you.”

“Is there no command Your Majesty would lay upon us?”

“No, please,” said Polly, in a failing voice.

“Is there anything Your Majesty has lost?  Think again!  Will Your Majesty deign to cast your royal eyes on this?”

He drew from under his buffalo robe what seemed like a long tress of blond hair, and held it aloft.  Polly instantly recognized the missing scalp of her hapless doll.

“If you please, Sir, it’s Lady Mary’s.  She’s lost it.”

“And lost it—­Your Majesty—­only to find something more precious!  Would Your Majesty hear the story?”

A little alarmed, a little curious, a little self-anxious, and a little induced by the nudges and pinches of her companions, the Queen blushingly signified her royal assent.

“Enough.  Bring refreshments.  Will Your Majesty prefer winter-green, peppermint, rose, or accidulated drops?  Red or white?  Or perhaps Your Majesty will let me recommend these bull’s eyes,” said the leader, as a collection of sweets in a hat were suddenly produced from the barrel labelled “Gunpowder” and handed to the children.

“Listen,” he continued, in a silence broken only by the gentle sucking of bull’s eyes.  “Many years ago the old Red Rovers of these parts locked up all their treasures in a secret cavern in this mountain.  They used spells and magic to keep it from being entered or found by anybody, for there was a certain mark upon it made by a peculiar rock that stuck out of it, which signified what there was below.  Long afterwards, other Red Rovers who had heard of it, came here and spent days and days trying to discover it; digging holes and blasting tunnels like this, but of no use!  Sometimes they thought they discovered the magic marks in the peculiar rock that stuck out of it, but when they dug there they found no treasure.  And why?  Because there was a magic spell upon it.  And what was that magic spell?  Why, this!  It could only be discovered by a person who could not possibly know that he or she had discovered it, who never could or would be able to enjoy it, who could never see it, never feel it, never, in fact know anything at all about it!  It wasn’t a dead man, it wasn’t an animal, it wasn’t a baby!”

“Why,” said Polly, jumping up and clapping her hands, “it was a Dolly.”

“Your Majesty’s head is level!  Your Majesty has guessed it!” said the leader, gravely.  “It was Your Majesty’s own dolly, Lady Mary, who broke the spell!  When Your Majesty came down the slide, the doll fell from your gracious hand when your foot slipped.  Your Majesty recovered Lady Mary, but did not observe that her hair had caught in a peculiar rock, called the ‘Outcrop,’ and remained behind!  When, later on, while sitting with your attendants at the mouth of the tunnel, Your Majesty discovered that Lady Mary’s hair was gone; I overheard Your Majesty, and despatched the trusty Step-and-Fetch-It to seek it at the mountain side.  He did so, and found it clinging to the rock, and beneath it—­the entrance to the Secret Cave!”