Patsey and Hickory, who, failing to understand a word of this explanation, had given themselves up to the unconstrained enjoyment of the sweets, began now to apprehend that some change was impending, and prepared for the worst by hastily swallowing what they had in their mouths, thus defying enchantment, and getting ready for speech.  Polly, who had closely followed the story, albeit with the embellishments of her own imagination, made her eyes rounder than ever.  A bland smile broke on Wan Lee’s face, as, to the children’s amazement, he quietly disengaged himself from the group and stepped before the leader.

“Melican man plenty foolee Melican chillern.  No foolee China boy!  China boy knowee you. You no Led Lofer. You no Pilat—­you allee same tunnel man—­you Bob Johnson!  Me shabbee you!  You dressee up allee same as Led Lofer—­but you Bob Johnson—­allee same.  My fader washee washee for you.  You no payee him.  You owee him folty dolla!  Me blingee you billee.  You no payee billee!  You say, ’Chalkee up, John.’  You say, ‘Bimeby, John.’  But me no catchee folty dolla!”

[Illustration]

A roar of laughter followed, in which even the leader apparently forgot himself enough to join.  But the next moment springing to his feet, he shouted, “Ho! ho!  A traitor!  Away with him to the deepest dungeon beneath the castle moat!”

Hickory and Patsey began to whimper.  But Polly, albeit with a tremulous lip, stepped to the side of her little Pagan friend.  “Don’t you dare to touch him,” she said, with a shake of unexpected determination in her little curly head; “if you do, I’ll tell my father, and he will slay you!  All of you—­there!”

“Your father!  Then you are not the Queen!”

It was a sore struggle to Polly to abdicate her royal position, it was harder to do it with befitting dignity.  To evade the direct question she was obliged to abandon her defiant attitude.  “If you please, Sir,” she said, hurriedly, with an increasing colour and no stops, “we’re not always pirates, you know, and Wan Lee is only our boy what brushes my shoes in the morning, and runs of errands, and he doesn’t mean anything bad, Sir, and we’d like to take him back home with us.”

“Enough,” said the leader, changing his entire manner with the most sudden and shameless inconsistency.  “You shall go back together, and woe betide the miscreant who would prevent it.  What say you brothers?  What shall be his fate who dares to separate our noble Queen from her faithful Chinese henchman?”

“He shall die!” roared the others, with beaming cheerfulness.

“And what say you—­shall we see them home?”

“We will!” roared the others.

[Illustration]

Before the children could fairly comprehend what had passed, they were again lifted into the truck and began to glide back into the tunnel they had just quitted.  But not again in darkness and silence; the entire band of Red Rovers accompanied them, illuminating the dark passage with the candles they had snatched from the walls.  In a few moments they were at the entrance again.  The great world lay beyond them once more with rocks and valleys suffused by the rosy light of the setting sun.  The past seemed like a dream.