The Execution

"Sir Norman Kingsley! Sir Norman Kingsley!" rang from lip to lip of
those who recognized him; and all drew closer, and looked at him as if
they really could not make up their mind to believe their eyes. As
for Sir Norman himself, that gentleman was destined literally, if not
metaphorically, to fall on his legs that night, and had alighted on
the crimson velvet-carpet, cat-like, on his feet. In reference to his
feelings--his first was one of frantic disapproval of going down;
his second, one of intense astonishment of finding himself there with
unbroken bones; his third, a disagreeable conviction that he had about
put his foot in it, and was in an excessively bad fix; and last, but
not least, a firm and rooted determination to make the beet of a bad
bargain, and never say die.

His first act was to take off his plumed hat, and make a profound
obeisance to her majesty the queen, who was altogether too much
surprised to make the return politeness demanded, and merely stared at
him with her great, beautiful, brilliant eyes, as if she would never
have done.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" said Sir Norman, turning gracefully to the
company; "I beg ten thousand pardons for this unwarrantable intrusion,
and promise you, upon my honor, never to do it again. I beg to assure
you that my coming here was altogether involuntary on my part, and
forced by circumstances over which I had no control; and I entreat you
will not mind me in the least, but go on with the proceeding, just as
you did before. Should you feel my presence here any restraint, I am
quite ready and willing to take my departure at any moment; and as
I before insinuated, will promise, on the honor of a gentleman and a
knight, never again to take the liberty of tumbling through the ceiling
down on your heads."