“But there is no use in discussing new articles of food when the kingdom is under the cloud that it is at present, and my retorts and crystals all smashed,” said the Baron.

“Why, what is the cloud, my lord?” inquired the Pop-corn man.  Then the Baron told him the whole story.

“Of course it is necromancy,” remarked the Pop-corn man thoughtfully, when the Baron had finished.

The Baron pounded on the table until it danced.  “Necromancy!” he cried, “of course it’s necromancy!  Who but a necromancer could have made a child invisible, and stolen her away in the face and eyes of the whole court?”

“Have you any idea where she is?” ask the Pop-corn man.

The Baron stared at him in amazement.

“Idea where she is?” he repeated scornfully.  “You are just of a piece with the idiots who broke my mirrors to see if the Princess was not behind them!  How should we have any idea where she is if she is lost, pray?”

The Pop-corn man blushed, and looked frightened, but the Head-nurse spoke up quite bravely, although her voice was so muffled, and said that she really did have some idea of the Princess’s whereabouts.  She propounded her views which were quite plausible.  It was her opinion that only an enemy of the King would have caused the Princess to be stolen, and as the King had only one enemy of whom anybody knew, and he was the King across the river, she thought the Princess must be there.

“It seems very likely,” said the Baron after she had finished, “but if she is there it is hopeless.  Our King could never conquer the other one, who has a much stronger army.”

“Do you know,” asked the Pop-corn man, “if they have ever had any pop-corn on the other side of the river?”

“I don’t think they have,” replied the Baron.

“Then,” said the Pop-corn man, “I think I can free the Princess.”

“You!” cried the Baron scornfully.

But the Pop-corn man said nothing more.  He bowed low to the Baron and the Head-nurse, and left the tower.

“The idea of his talking as he did,” said the Baron.  But the nurse was pinning her shawl, and she hurried out of the tower and overtook the Pop-corn man.

“How are you going to manage it?” whispered she, touching his sleeve.

The Pop-corn man started.  “Oh, it’s you?” he said.  “Well, you wait a little, and you will see.  Do you suppose you could find six little boys who would be willing to go over the river with me to-morrow?”

“Would it be quite safe?”

“Quite safe.”

“I have six little brothers who would go,” said the Head-nurse.

So it was arranged that the six little brothers should go across the river with the Pop-corn man; and the next morning they set out.  They were all decorated with strings of Pop-corn, they carried baskets of pop-corn, and bore corn-poppers over their shoulders, and they crossed the river in a row boat.