was just a suspicion of Mr. Stuart himself in the carving.
“But it isn’t bigger than a little pig,” he protested. “You see that the King is putting his spear through it with ease.”
“They make it small to show that it was a very small thing to the King,” said the dragoman. “So you see that all the King’s prisoners do not exceed his knee—which is not because he was so much taller, but so much more powerful. You see that he is bigger than his horse, because he is a king and the other is only a horse. The same way, these small women whom you see here and there are just his trivial little wives.”
“Well, now!” cried Miss Adams indignantly. “If they had sculpted that King’s soul it would have needed a lens to see it. Fancy his allowing his wives to be put in like that.”
“If he did it now, Miss Adams,” said the Frenchman, “he would have more fighting than ever in Mesopotamia. But time brings revenge. Perhaps the day will soon come when we have the picture of the big strong wife and the trivial little husband—hein?”
