On the stage he found that
his one eye-hole gave him an excellent view of the audience. His
mother and father were in the second row. Turning his head round
slowly he discovered his sister Ethel sitting with a friend near the
back.
"William," hissed the prompter, "go on! 'A wolf am I----'"
But William was engrossed in the audience. There was Mrs. Clive about
the middle of the room.
"'A wolf am I'--_go on_, William!"
William had now found the cook and housemaid in the last row of all
and was turning his eye-hole round in search of fresh discoveries.
The prompter grew desperate.
"'A wolf am I--a wolf on mischief bent.' _Say_ it, William."
William turned his wolf's head towards the wings. "Well, I was _goin'_
to say it," he said irritably, "if you'd lef' me alone."
The audience tittered.
"Well, say it," said the voice of the invisible prompter.
"Well, I'm going to," said William. "I'm not goin' to say that again
wot you said 'cause they all heard it. I'll go on from there."
The audience rocked in wild delight. Behind the scenes Mrs. de Vere
Carter wrung her hands and sniffed strong smelling-salts. "That boy!"
she moaned.
Then William, sinking his voice from the indignant clearness with
which it had addressed the prompter, to a muffled inaudibility,
continued:
"To eat this little maid is my intent."
But there leapt on the stage again the radiant white and blue figure
of the Prince brandishing his wooden sword.
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