And they both seem anxious that little Rupert shall be the same.

Indeed, he is the same.

A few mornings ago Rupert and Teuta were about to start just after dawn from the top of the Castle.

Little Rupert was there--he is always awake early and as bright as a bee.

I was holding him in my arms, and when his mother leant over to kiss him good-bye, he held out his arms to her in a way that said as plainly as if he had spoken, "Take me with you." She looked appealingly at Rupert, who nodded, and said: "All right.