“Escape?” said Amor. “But why should he want to! He’d never be happy away from us.”
He smiled lovingly at Michael as the Unicorn thrust his head between them and tickled their cheeks with his mane.
“A Unicorn!” The Policeman stared. “Miss Lark’s gettin’ queerer and queerer!” he muttered, as he watched her fluttering down he path. “’Ere! Look where you’re going, Mr Mudge! You can’t do that to the Law.”
For a large fat man had bumped into him and was breathlessly hurrying by. The Policeman seized him by the arm.
“A Unicorn, the old girl said!” Mr Mudge panted heavily.
“A Unicorn?” cried the passing strangers. “We don’t believe it! We must write to The Times!”
“Of course, I know there’s no such thing. Somebody’s having a bit of a joke.” Mr Mudge mopped his poppy cheeks. “But I thought as I’d go and see.”
“Well, you go quietly,” the Policeman advised him. “And treat the Law with respect.”
He released Mr Mudge’s arm and strode on ahead of him.
“Come, let us go deeper into the picture,” Florimond was saying. He took Jane gently by the hand and Veritain came to her other side.
“Hurry up, Michael! Let’s try the swings. And then we can paddle in the Lake.” Amor gave a tug to Michael’s hand. “But who are all these people?”
The five children glanced about them. The Park, which had been so quiet before, was now filled with flying figures, all racing towards the Rose Garden and shouting as they came. The Policeman stalked along before them with big, important strides.
As the children turned to leave the garden, his large blue body barred the way.
He gave one glance at the Unicorn and his eyebrows went up to the edge of his helmet.
“Miss Lark was right, after all,” he muttered. Then he eyed the Princes sternly.
“Might I h’ask what you think you’re up to – disturbing the peace in a public place? And I’d like to know how you three tinkers got hold of that there animal!”
“They’re not tinkers!” protested Michael. He was shocked at the Policeman’s words. Couldn’t he see who they were?
“Gypsies, then. You can tell by their clothes. Too gaudy for respectable people.”
“But don’t you remember them?” cried Jane. She was fond of the Policeman and wanted him not to make a mistake.
“Never saw them before in my life.” He took out his notebook and pencil. “Now, I want a few pertickelers. Honesty’s the best policy, lads, so speak up clearly and state the facts. First of all, where do you come from?”
“Nowhere!” giggled Amor.
“Everywhere!” said Veritain.
“East of the sun and West of the Moon,” Florimond added gravely.
“Now, now! This won’t do. I asked a plain question and I want a plain answer. Where do you live? What place on the map?”
“Oh, it’s not on the map,” said Florimond. “But it’s easy to find if you really want to. You only have to wish.”
“No fixed address,” the Policeman murmured, writing in his notebook. “You see! They’re gypsies – just like I said. Now then, young man – your father’s name!”
“Fidelio,” answered Florimond.
“Mother’s name?”The Law gave his pencil a careful lick.
“Esperanza,” Veritain told him. “With a ‘Z’,” he added helpfully, for the Policeman, it seemed, was not a good speller.
“Aunts?” enquired the Policeman again, laboriously writing.
“Oh, we have hundreds.” Amor grinned. “Cinderella, Snow White, Badroulbador, The White Cat, Little-Two-Eyes, Baba Yaga – and, of course, the Sleeping Beauty.”
“Sleeping Beauty,” the Policeman murmured.
Then he looked at the words he had written and glanced up angrily.
“You’re making a mock of the Law!” he cried. “The Sleeping Beauty wasn’t nobody’s aunt. She was somebody in a book. Now, see here! Since you boys refuse to give me h’information in h’accordance with the h’regulations, it is my duty to take that animal in charge.”
He stepped forward resolutely.
The Unicorn gave an angry snort and flung up his hind legs.
“’Ands off! ’Ands off!” yelled the Park Keeper, as he flung himself across the roses and pushed the Policeman aside.
“There ’e is, Ben!” he cried in triumph, as the Keeper of the Zoological Gardens, nervously waving his butterfly net, came tiptoeing into the Rose Garden.
“’Orn and all – just like I told yer!” The Park Keeper reached for the silver bridle and immediately turned a back somersault.
For the Unicorn had lowered his head and swung his horn against him.
“E-e-eh! Oh! O-o-o-h!” The Keeper of the Zoological Gardens, with a frightened yelp, took refuge behind the Policeman.
“Dear me, is he dangerous? Does he bite? That horn looks very sharp!”
“It’s sharp and solid, Benjamin!” The Park Keeper ruefully rubbed his stomach.
“He’s gentle and good,” Florimond protested. “But he isn’t used to strangers.”
“H’m. Well, you’d better bring him along to the zoo and settle him down in a cage.”
“A cage! Oh, no,” cried Jane and Michael, angrily stamping their feet.
And the Unicorn, as though in agreement, drummed with his hooves on the lawn.
“But what would he do in a cage?” asked Amor, his eyes wide with interest.
“Do?” echoed the Keeper of the Zoological Gardens. “He’d do what the other animals do – just stand there to be looked at!”
“Oh, he wouldn’t like that,” put in Veritain quickly. “He’s used to being quite free. Besides,” he added, smiling politely, “he belongs to us, you know!”
“Free!” The Policeman shook his fist. “Nobody’s free to kick at the Law!”
“Whoa there!” cried the Keeper of the Zoological Gardens.
“I won’t whoa there!” the Policeman shouted. “I’m only doing what’s right!”
“I was talking to him,” murmured Mr Winkle. And he pointed to the Unicorn who was dancing madly on all four feet.
“Now then,” he cooed, “be a good little Dobbin. And we’ll get him some hay and a nice clean house next door to the Hippopotamus!”
The Unicorn gave his tail a twitch and lashed it at Mr Winkle. It was quite clear that he had no intention of living anywhere near a hippopotamus.
“Don’t coax ’im, Benjamin, just take ’im!” The Park Keeper gave his friend a push.
“Oh, no! Not yet! Wait just one minute!”
Miss Lark’s voice sounded shriller than ever as she hurried back to the scene. In one hand she held up her tattered skirt and with the other she dragged along an elderly gentleman in a newspaper hat. He was carrying a large book and a magnifying-glass and looking very bewildered.
“So fortunate!” Miss Lark panted. “I found the Professor asleep on a bench. There now, Professor –” she flung out her hand – “Do you still say you don’t believe me?”