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"He is rooning mooch faster zan he vas could." "Id's zat leedle she-devil-child! She make 'im roon and roon all ze day!" cried the baron. "Ach, zo?" said the grand duke. "Alzo he is peenk guite peenk." The satisfaction in his tone had increased. He could hardly be called a fond parent, in the matter of Adalbert; he might more truly be said to bear with him.
He was inclined to accept sadly the theory of Professor Muller, professor of anatomy and physiology at the University of Lippe-Schweidnitz, and court physician, that Adalbert cast back to his great-grandfather Franz, who had been known to his irreverent subjects as "The Dolt." He gazed at the perspiring and excited band for a minute in silence. Then he said: "Wheech is ze leedle she-devil-child?"
By this time the news had spread to the sands; and a nurse came hurrying up with the information that the prince had gone into the marsh, mushrooming with Pollyooly. "Ach Gott! Then that little she-devil-child haf 'im drowned in a dyke!" said the baron cheerfully. The suggestion increased greatly the interest of his followers; and they accompanied him into the marsh eagerly.
The quick eye of the grand duke at once espied Prince Adalbert running to field a ball. "Ach, he is zlimmer!" he said in a tone of satisfaction. "Zlimmer? He is zlimmer, your Highness. Id iz zat leedle she-devil-child. She nevare nod nevare leds 'im be steel. All ze day she makes 'im roosh and roosh. He haf nevare no breath in hees loongs nod nevare!" "Ach, zo?" said the grand duke calmly.
"Bollyooly zent me to buy bebbermints," said his charge stolidly, without stopping. "Mein Gott!" cried the baron. "And now that she-devil-child uses you as a lackey!" "She wanted zem," said his charge stolidly, pursuing his way without turning his head. "Bud bebbermints you do not like!" cried the baron. "Bollyooly wanted bebbermints," said the prince stolidly.
The baron rushed forth, and after the manner of his caste, was abject in his apologies for the absence of Prince Adalbert. . . . He had taken every precaution. . . . All had been in vain. . . . The infatuated unfortunate would steal away to the little she-devil-child.
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