and tipsy, lounged on either side of him, and beat with their
glasses on the board.

"Bravissimo! More, Master Carter--more!"

"O mammy, O nunky, here's cousin Jack Frog--
With a fa-la--"

I lifted my knuckles and tapp'd on the pane; whereon Prince Maurice
starts up with an oath, and coming to the window, flings it open.

"Pardon, your Highness," said I, and pull'd myself past him into the
room, as cool as you please.

'Twas worth while to see their surprise. Prince Maurice ran back to
the table for his sword: his brother (being more thoroughly drunk)
dropped a decanter on the floor, and lay back staring in his chair.
While as for my kinsman, he sat with mouth wide and eyes starting,
as tho' I were a very ghost. In the which embarrassment I took
occasion to say, very politely--

"Good evening, nunky!"

"Who the devil is this?" gasps Prince Rupert.

"Why the fact is, your Highnesses," answered I, stepping up and
laying my sword on the table, while I pour'd out a glass, "Master
Timothy Carter here is my guardian, and has the small sum of L200 in
his possession for my use, of which I happen to-night to stand in
immediate need. So you see--" I finished the sentence by tossing off