“The Princess!” cried Sitzky.

“Long live the Princess!” cried the crowd.  “God save our Yetive!”

Sitzky started as if shot, Raring at the tall man who approached with the smiling Sovereign of Graustark.  “Well,” he gasped, “what d’ you t’ink o’ dat!”

The train that was to carry them out of the East into the West puffed and snorted, the bell clanged, the people cheered, and they were off.  Hours later, as the car whirled through the Hungarian plain, Yetive, looking from her window, said in that exquisite English which was her very own: 

“Ah, the world, the dear world!  I am so sorry for queens!”

THE END