WILLIAM AND THE WAXWORK PRINCE 89
even open yet. A man stood on a platform outside the closed door of the tent announcing vociferously that the show would be open in half an hour's time. The closed door whetted the Outlaws' curiosity.
" I bet that if we go round to the back and look under the tent we could see it all," said Henry, his spirits rising.
So they went round to the back, lay down on the grass, and cautiously raised the flap of the tent. And Henry had been right. They could see it all beautifully. The inside of the tent was fortunately empty of human beings, so they could feast their eyes on the dazzling array of historical figures that met their gaze. There was Henry the Eighth in red tights and a spangled cloak. There was Guy Fawkes wearing a black mask and holding a barrel of gunpowder. There was Mary Queen of Scots in a very elaborately anachronistic crinoline with an executioner who carried a real axe. There was Perkin Warbeck in a suit of armour. There was Rufus wearing a red beard and an arrow through his heart. And there were the little princes in the Tower in black velvet suits and much befeathered hats.
" Crumbs ! " gasped Douglas, " they're fine, aren't they ? I bet they're exactly like what the real ones were. They look jus' as if they were, anyway. I say, William would like to see 'em, wouldn't he ? "
He addressed this remark to Ginger. Ginger was staring at the nearest little prince in the Tower, open-mouthed, open-eyed. An idea had come to Ginger— an idea so daring that for a minute it took away his breath. Then:
" I—I've got it ! " he said hoarsely.
" What ? " said the other Outlaws and gathered
round while he told them. Then they said " Crumbs! "
in awe-stricken whispers.
Very, very cautiously they approached one of the