That poor chap 'as gone up in smoke, as sure as my name's Hobbs." They met Baron Dangloss near the barracks, across the park from the Castle.

He was in close, earnest conversation with John Tullis and Count Halfont, both of whom seemed to be labouring under intense excitement.
Over by the arsenal the little Prince, attended by his Aunt Loraine and Count Vos Engo--with two mechanical guardsmen in the background--was deep in conversation with Julius Spantz, the master-of-arms.

If he had been near enough to hear, he might have learned that Prince Robin's air-gun was very much out of order and needed attention at once.
The arrival of Hobbs, a pitiful but heroic object, at once arrested the attention of every one.

His story was heard by a most distinguished audience; in fact, Hobbs was near to exploding with his own suddenly acquired importance.

Not only were there dark, serious looks from the men in the party, and distressed exclamations from the most beautiful young lady in the world (he had always said that of her), but he had the extreme unction of bringing tears to the eyes of a prince, and of hearing manfully suppressed sobs from the throat of the same august personage.
The looks that went round at the conclusion of his disjointed and oft-interrupted story, expressed something more than consternation.
"There is nothing supernatural about King's disappearance," said Tullis sharply.