It was the elder boron. With sombre mien and stately tread he advanced and took a seat beside me on the canopy.
"Welcome, honored father!" I exclaimed as I took his hand and raised it to my lips. "I was upon the very point of seeking thee out."
He smiled and then said,—
"Well, little baron, what thinkest thou of Don Fum's World within a World?"
"I think, my lord," was my reply, "that Don Fum is right: that such a world must exist; and with thy consent, it is my intention to set out in search of its portals with all safe haste and as soon as my dear mother, the gracious baroness, may be able to bring her heart to part with me."
The elder baron was silent for a moment, and then added: "Little baron, much as thy mother and I shall dread to think of thy being again out from under the safe protection of this venerable roof, the moss-grown tiles of which have sheltered so many generations of the Trumps, yet must we not be selfish in this matter. Heaven forbid that such a thought should move our souls to stay thee! The honor of our family, thy fame as an explorer of strange lands in far-away corners of the globe, call unto us to be strong hearted. Therefore, my dear boy, make ready and go forth once more in search of new marvels. The learned Don Fum's chart will stand thee by like a safe and trusty counsellor. Remember, little baron, the motto of the Trumps, Per Ardua ad Astra—the pathway to glory is strewn with pitfalls and dangers—but the comforting thought shall ever he mine, that when thy keen intelligence fails, Bulger's unerring instinct will be there to guide thee."
As I stooped to kiss the elder baron's hand, the gracious baroness entered the room.
Bulger hastened to raise himself upon his hind legs and lick her hand in token of respectful greeting. The tears were pressing hard against her eyelids, but she kept them back, and encircling my neck with her loving arms, she pressed many and many a kiss upon my cheeks and brow.
