"Yes," said Mr. Cranium. "The skull of Cadwallader."

"To be sure he will. How can you doubt it?"

"I simply know," said Mr. Cranium, "that if it were once in my
possession I would not part with it for any acquisition on earth, much
less for a wife."

The squire flew over to Mr. Escot. "I told you," said he, "I would
settle him; but there is a very hard condition attached to his
compliance. Nothing less than the absolute and unconditional surrender
of the skull of Cadwallader."

"I resign it," said Mr. Escot.

"The skull is yours," said the squire, skipping over to Mr. Cranium.

"I am perfectly satisfied," said Mr. Cranium.

"The lady is yours," said the squire, skipping back to Mr. Escot.

"I am the happiest man alive," said Mr. Escot, and he flew off as nimbly
as Squire Headlong himself, to impart the happy intelligence to his
beautiful Cephalis.

The departure of the ball visitors then took place, and the squire did
not suffer many days to elapse before the spiritual metamorphosis of
eight into four was effected by the clerical dexterity of the Reverend
Doctor Gaster.