There they were.  The six torch-bearers were dressed like mediaeval pages, or near enough.  Their tight-fitting cotton hose, sagging a little at the knees, were sky-blue, and their tunics green and slashed with yellow.  They wore jaunty velvet caps and fascinating daggers, ready to hand.  As they reached the entrance to the tent they halted, and with some uneasy shuffling formed up on either side, making a splendid passage of fire for the ten Moorish horsemen who rode next, fierce fellows these, armed to the teeth, with black, shining faces and rolling eyes.  A band struck up inside the tent to welcome them, and they rode through, scarcely bending their proud heads—­much to the relief of the more timorous members of the crowd who had eyed the rear end of their noble steeds with a natural anxiety.  Unfortunately the torches smoked a good deal, and there was some grumbling.

“’Ere, take the stinking thing out of me eyes, can’t yer?”

“Right down dangerous, I calls it.  If one of them there sparks gets into me ’at I’ll be all ablaze in half a jiffy.  And oo’ll pay for the feathers, I’d like to know?”

“Oh, shut up—­shut up!” Robert whispered bitterly.  “Why can’t everyone shut up?”

“The Biggest and Best Show in Europe,” Rufus was reading aloud in a squeaky treble; “un-pre-ce-dented spectacles—­performing sea-lions—­great chariot-race—­the Legless Wonder from Iceland—­Warogha, the Missing Link—­the greatest living Lady Equestrian, Madame Gloria Marotti, Mad-rad—­oh, I can’t read that—­Gyp Labelle, the darling of the Folies Bergeres—­what’s Folies Bergeres, Robert——?  Oh, my word—­my word!”

It was the Shetland ponies that had saved Robert the trouble of replying that he didn’t know.  After the ferocious magnificence of the Moorish gentlemen, they came as a sort of comic relief.  Everyone laughed, and even the lady with the feather hat recovered her good temper.

“Why, you could keep one of them in the back yard—­not an inch bigger than our collie, is he, ’Enry?  And Jim’s not full grown—­not by ’alf.”

“As though anyone cared about her beastly collie!” Robert thought.

The elephants, a small one and a big one together to show their absurd proportions, came next.  The earth shook under them.  They waved their trunks hopefully from side to side, and their little brown eyes, which seemed to have no relation to their bodies, peered out like prisoners out of the peep-holes of a monstrous moving prison.  When the man next to Robert offered the smallest of them an empty paper-bag it curled its trunk over his head and opened its pointed mouth and let out a piercing squeal of protest which alarmed its tormentor, and caused his neighbours to regard him with nervous disapproval.  But the big elephant seemed to exercise a soothing influence over its companion.  It waved its trunk negligently as though in contemptuous dismissal of a commonplace incident.