"Can you tell me," asked one, a wizened small person who, in the
flickering light of the lantern, was strongly suggestive of a mouse,
"are there many buried here? The guide has been explaining, and I am
stupid, I know, but for the life of me I can't understand a word he
says." Her voice was a little dejected, and altogether apologetic.

"We do not think there are any," the princess answered.

The little tourist blinked, hesitated, and then asked, confidentially,
"Did the guide say you were the princess of this castle? We couldn't
make out."

By this time two others, inquisitive and gaping, joined the spokeswoman,
who, as the princess assented, exclaimed, "My!"

That ended the conversation for the time being; and the party trooped on
in silence. But after a little the small mousy one's curiosity overcame
her diffidence. "Land, it'd be queer to live in a place like this! Do
you come down here much, Your Highness?"

Nina nearly giggled, but the princess replied, "I have been down only
once or twice. There is no use to which we can put these passageways
nowadays. There was a deep pit that descended from one of the upper
rooms of the castle through a trap in the floor. The bottom of it was
far below here, but it is all done away with and cemented over now."

"You know, Your Highness," returned the little tourist, now glibly at
ease, "I think it'd be a good place for growing mushrooms."

The guide interrupted by mounting a pair of stairs and holding up his