“These fountains of air are excellent things,” remarked Queen Aquareine, “for they keep the water fresh and sweet, and that is the more necessary when it is confined by walls, as it is in this castle.  But now, let us counsel together and decide what to do in the emergency that confronts us.”

“How can we tell what to do without knowing what’s going to happen?” asked Trot.

“Somethin’s sure to happen,” said Cap’n Bill.

As if to prove his words, a gong suddenly sounded at their door and in walked a fat little man clothed all in white, including a white apron and white cap.  His face was round and jolly, and he had a big mustache that curled up at the ends.

“Well, well!” said the little man, spreading out his legs and putting his hands on his hips as he stood looking at them.  “Of all the queer things in the sea, you’re the queerest!  Mermaids, eh?”

“Don’t bunch us that way!” protested Cap’n Bill.

“You are quite wrong,” said Trot.  “I’m a—­a girl.”

“With a fish’s tail?” he asked, laughing at her.

“That’s only just for a while,” she said, “while I’m in the water, you know.  When I’m at home on the land I walk just as you do, an’ so does Cap’n Bill.”

“But we haven’t any gills,” remarked the Cap’n, looking closely at the little man’s throat, “so I take it we’re not as fishy as some others.”

“If you mean me, I must admit you are right,” said the little man, twisting his mustache.  “I’m as near a fish as a man can be.  But you see, Cap’n, without the gills that make me a fish, I could not live under water.”

“When it comes to that, you’ve no business to live under water,” asserted the sailor.  “But I s’pose you’re a slave and can’t help it.”

“I’m chief cook for that old horror Zog.  And that reminds me, good mermaids, or good people, or good girls and sailors, or whatever you are, that I’m sent here to ask what you’d like to eat.”

“Good to see you, sir,” said Cap’n Bill.  “I’m nearly starved, myself.”

“I had it in mind,” said the little man, “to prepare a regular mermaid dinner, but since you’re not mermaids—­”

“Oh, two of us are,” said the Queen, smiling.  “I, my good cook, am Aquareine, the ruler of the mermaids, and this is the Princess Clia.”

“I’ve often heard of you, your Majesty,” returned the chief cook, bowing respectfully, “and I must say I’ve heard only good of you.  Now that you have unfortunately become my master’s prisoners, it will give me pleasure to serve you as well as I am able.”

“We thank you, good sir,” said Aquareine.

“What have you got to eat?” inquired Trot.  “Seems to me I’m hollow way down to my toes—­my tail, I mean—­and it’ll take a lot to fill me up.  We haven’t eaten a morsel since breakfast, you know.”

“I think I shall be able to give you almost anything you would like,” said the cook.  “Zog is a wonderful magician and can procure anything that exists with no more effort than a wiggle of his thumb.  But some eatables, you know, are hard to serve under water, because they get so damp that they are soon ruined.”