I have to take very good care of it."
Suok showed Tutti what she could do.
She whistled a lovely tune by holding the key upside-down, with the hole near her pursed lips.
Tutti was so delighted that he forgot all about the key he was supposed to be taking such good care of.
When Suok finished whistling the song she absent-mindedly put it in her lace pocket.
And then it was evening.
A special room had been prepared for the doll. It was the one next to Tutti's bedroom.
Tutti the Heir was fast, asleep. He was having a very strange dream about funny, long-nosed masks. There was also a man carrying a large round stone on his bare yellowback, and a fat man who was whipping the man with a black whip, and a tattered boy eating a potato, and a grand lady in silks and laces who was riding a white horse and whistling an awful waltz on twelve apricot pits.
At the same time, in a place very far from the small bedroom, in a far corner of the Palace park, strange things were happening.
Have no fear, dear reader, it was nothing terrible.
Tutti the Heir wasn't the only one who was having a strange dream that night.
A Palace Guard who was on sentry duty near Tutti the Heir's zoo had fallen asleep at his post. He, too, was having a very strange dream.
There he sat, on a stone bench, leaning against the railing and dozing contentedly.
His sword in its shiny scabbard rested between his knees.
His pistol was peacefully stuck into the black silk sash round his waist.
Beside him on the gravel path was a lantern which cast its light on his boots and on the long caterpillar that had fallen on to his sleeve from the leaves above.
Nothing could have been more peaceful.
And so, the sentry was fast asleep. He was having a most unusual dream.
He dreamed that Tutti the Heir's doll came up to him.
It looked exactly as it had that morning, when Doctor Gas-par Arnery had brought it back to the Palace. It had on the same pink dress, ribbons, lace and sequins.
The only difference was that in his dream the doll had changed into a real, live girl.
She walked quite naturally, stopping every now and then to look around.
The lantern illuminated her from head to toe.
The Guard even smiled in his sleep.
Then he sighed and shifted to a more comfortable position, leaning his shoulder against the railing and his nose against an iron rose in the grillwork.
When Suok saw the sentry was asleep, she picked up the lantern and tiptoed cautiously behind the zoo fence.
The Guard was snoring loudly. In his sleep he thought it was the tigers roaring in their cages.
Actually, it was very still.
All the animals were asleep.
The lantern gave very little light.
Suok moved ahead slowly, peering to the right and left.
Luckily, it was not too dark, for the night was brightened by the stars, and the park lights were shining over the trees and rooftops.
Suok went down a short path between two rows of hedges covered with white flowers.
Suddenly, she smelled the animals.
She knew the smell well, for once a lion-tamer had joined their troupe and had brought along his three lions and Great Dane.
Suok reached a small clearing.
The black shadows on all sides looked like little houses.
''Those are the cages," she whispered to herself.
Her heart beat loudly.
She was not afraid of the animals, because circus performers are not timid people.
She was afraid the sound of her footsteps and the light from the lantern would wake one of the animals and its growls would then wake the sentry.
She crept closer to the cages.
"Where can Prospero be?" she thought nervously.
Suok raised the lantern and looked into the cages.
Everything was quiet, nothing moved.
The light of the lantern, broken up by the cage bars, fell in patches on the sleeping beasts.
She saw a pair of thick hairy ears, a paw here, a striped back there.
The eagles, sleeping with outspread wings, looked like ancient crests.
Strange shapes loomed at the back of some of the cages.
One of the cages had thin silver bars on it. It was full of parrots perched on little twigs.