LONG LIVE THE KING!




CHAPTER I

THE CROWN PRINCE RUNS AWAY


The Crown Prince sat in the royal box and swung his legs. This
was hardly princely, but the royal legs did not quite reach the
floor from the high crimson-velvet seat of his chair.

Prince Ferdinand William Otto was bored. His royal robes,
consisting of a pair of blue serge trousers, a short Eton jacket,
and a stiff, rolling collar of white linen, irked him.

He had been brought to the Opera House under a misapprehension.
His aunt, the Archduchess Annunciata, had strongly advocated "The
Flying Dutchman," and his English governess, Miss Braithwaite,
had read him some inspiring literature about it. So here he was,
and the Flying Dutchman was not ghostly at all, nor did it fly.
It was, from the royal box, only too plainly a ship which had
length and height, without thickness. And instead of flying,
after dreary aeons of singing, it was moved off on creaky rollers
by men whose shadows were thrown grotesquely on the sea backing.