_Danger!_
When the door of the Princess’s room opened, and both she and Dick
turned toward it, what do you suppose they saw?
They saw a little girl in a brown dress with black spots on it,—a
little girl who had dark eyes and hair, and was followed by a small,
excited fox-terrier. For they saw none other than Bab herself!
She ran into the room, and hugged her brother, crying, “Oh, Dicky,
Dicky, dear! How glad I am to see you again!”
Wiggles jumped about and yelped with joy, and altogether you might
have supposed that they had all been separated for years, instead of
only—But dear me, I forgot! We don’t know how long it had been, after
all! For, of course, in Make Believe Land they count very differently
from the way we do.
Naturally, both Dick and Bab forgot all about the Princess, until she
said quite crossly, “Well, I do think you might introduce her to me!”
Dick jumped.
“Oh, dear! I forgot!” he exclaimed. “Princess, this is my sister Bab.”
“Bab!” repeated the Princess. “What a funny name!”
“It’s really Barbara,” explained Bab. “But I think that’s really worse,
isn’t it? And, anyway, Bab’s shorter.”
“Oh, yes, certainly. And it’s a _very_ nice name,” said the Princess,
politely. “A _very_ nice name, I’m sure! Well, little Bab, or Barbara,
or whatever your name is, what are _you_ doing here?”
“If you please, Princess,” said Bab, timidly. “I am here to help Dicky
save Humpty Dumpty.”
“And himself!” added the Princess, mischievously. “You know he needs
saving too, just now.”
“_And_ the Princess,” put in Dick.
“And poor dear Mudge,” finished the Princess.
“Dear me!” exclaimed Bab. “Have you _all_ got to be rescued?”
“Every single one!” declared the Princess. “Your brother—what did he
say his name was?—Duck?—oh, no—Dick!—Dick and I were just talking the
matter over when you came in. We aren’t very certain how to go about
it.”
“Oh, but _I_ am!” said Bab, confidently.
“Indeed!” exclaimed the Princess, in surprise.
“Yes!” said Bab, importantly. “How do you suppose I got in here?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” answered the Princess, sincerely. “It’s
_almost_ as hard to get in here as to get out,—not quite, though!” she
added, thoughtfully.
“Well, first,” said Bab, “I’ll tell you about my journey to Santa
Claus. That will explain a little.” And she told them all about her
trip through the Wonderful Wood, and about the Sand Man, and the
Brownies, and the Wooden Cow, and the arrival of the Dragon-Fly.
“But,” cried Dick, at this point, “I—I only sent the message a minute
ago!”
Then he paused a minute, bewildered. _Was_ it only a minute ago, after
all? He did not seem to be able to count the time.
“My dear children,” said the Princess, “you must never try to count
time in Make Believe Land. Time either does not exist here, or else
there is so much of it that you simply can’t measure it. I don’t know
which it is, but anyway it is silly to try to guess how long anything
takes here.”
“Well,” said Bab, who didn’t care anything about time herself, “I got
into Santa Claus’s sleigh, and the reindeer brought me safely to the
Red City. I left them in the wood, and came here as fast as I could go.
A little boy showed me the way.”
“Mudge!” said Dick. “But how did you get into the tower?”
Bab chuckled.
“I threw some sand at the men who tried to stop me,” she said, “and
they—every—single—one—went—fast—asleep!”
The Princess opened her eyes and mouth in amazement.
“The guards outside this room, too?” she asked with a gasp.
Bab nodded triumphantly. “I had just enough Sleep-Sand left for them!”
she said.
“Oh!” cried the Princess, with another little gasp. “Then I’m free!”
And she jumped up, and ran to the door, stumbling over her flowing,
gold-embroidered robes as she ran, and over-turning a box of jewels in
her haste. She opened the door, and there, sure enough, were all the
guards sound asleep on the floor outside.
“Oh, oh, oh!” cried the Princess, and hugged Bab in her excitement.
“You blessed little thing! You darling! You—you’ve set me free!”
And then she hugged Dick too, and then all three of them laughed and
talked all at once, and Wiggles rushed around them in a circle and
howled his sympathy.
“Now,” said the Princess, picking up her skirts, “let’s run!”
And they all scurried away out of the Palace as fast as mice. They
passed the men-at-arms that Bab had met below, who were all as sound
asleep as possible, just where they had happened to be when Bab threw
the sand at them,—all, that is, except one man. He was only half
asleep, and was yawning and stretching and trying hard to wake up.
“I’m afraid he did not get a whole grain!” said Bab, looking at him
anxiously. “Well, never mind. I guess he won’t wake _quite_ up until we
are safe away, anyway. Come, come! Hurry up!”
And they ran on again. But the drowsy man-at-arms did wake quite up
just at that very moment. And, yawning and shivering with sleep, he
stumbled into the throne-room of the Palace, calling out, “Thief!
Thief! A thief has stolen away the Princess! Help! Help!”
Now the Palace of the Wicked King was simply full of people of all
sorts. There were plenty of men-at-arms, and retainers, and cooks, and
gentlemen-in-waiting, and courtiers, and scullions, and pages, and
maids, and court-ladies, and when the sleepy soldier cried “Thief!” and
“Help!” they all came running out of their rooms all over the Palace
and hurried down stairs. And there was the wildest excitement possible
in the throne-room of the Wicked King.
And then the door of the royal apartments opened, and the Wicked King
himself appeared. And he said, in a deep angry voice, “Why is there so
much noise?”
And everyone trembled and bowed low before him. For of course they were
all dreadfully afraid of him!
For a minute or two no one dared to speak, and the King stood there in
his crimson robes, with his gold crown on his wicked head, and glared
at everybody.
“_Well?_” he thundered suddenly. And the sleepy soldier ventured to
speak at last.
“Lord—Master—” he quavered, “two strangers have carried off the
Princess!”
“_What!_” roared the Wicked King. “And what were you doing, all of you,
while they were carrying her off?”
“Your Majesty,” said the poor man-at-arms, “we—we were asleep!”
And then he took to his heels and ran away as hard and fast and far as
he could.
The Wicked King was so disturbed by the fact of Star’s disappearance
that he did not take the time and trouble to have the man caught and
beheaded, as he certainly would have done at any other time.
“Where is Grump?” he demanded, looking quite pale with rage and fear.
“He has not yet appeared,” said one of the courtiers. “He has not been
here to-day at all, O most augustly Wicked King!”
“Strange!” muttered the Wicked King. “Surely nothing can have gone
wrong? He was to have brought me the spell from the Fairy Queen before
this. It should certainly be in the city by now.”
And as a matter of fact, it was in the city then, but it had not been
brought by Grump! For, as we know, Grump had been robbed of all his
wicked power by Meg in his underground cave, and instead of being able
to fly on a cloud to his master with his woes he had to travel slowly
and painfully through the wood, and over the Sea of Glass like any
other every-day sort of person.
At this moment who should come swarming in but the Mischief
Brownies,—the very same bad little sprites whom Bab had outwitted in
Santa Claus’s barn. They hurried into the Wicked King’s Palace, and
wailed out their story,—how they had stopped the mortal girl, as had
been commanded, and how she had followed them and chased them out of
the barn with a frightful, roaring monster, just as they had cut off
one of the Wooden Cow’s magic horns.
The Wicked King listened to all that they had to say, in a white rage.
Were all his plans to go wrong? The situation was infuriating! His
servants outwitted by a simple, ordinary, stupid, little mortal girl;
his daughter stolen! With an awful growl of anger he waved his hand.
“Follow the thieves!” he cried. “Men-at-arms! Courtiers! Servants!
Gentlemen-in-waiting! Catch them at once! Half my kingdom for the
man who brings me the heads of the scoundrels and returns to me my
daughter!”
Before a single breath could be drawn, a whole army of his subjects had
rushed away after the escaping three. And then who do you suppose came
stumbling into the throne-room, making a great outcry and waving his
arms wildly? None other than Grump!
“Master!—Your Majesty!” he panted. “She tipped over the pot of magic,
and she escaped! She has gone to Fairyland! What shall we do? What
shall we do?”
The Wicked King was at the end of his patience.
“_I_ have not lost all of _my_ magic yet,” he thundered. “You are a
pretty sort of a servant! You’re an idiot! A useless, slow, dull idiot!
You’re a _snail!_”
Then an idea struck him.
“_Be_ a snail!” he commanded.
And Grump shrivelled up and turned into a snail, and crawled away into
a crack in the Palace wall. And that was the end of _him!_
Then a messenger came flying to the Wicked King, and cried: “Oh,
Master! They have run the thieves into a corner under the city wall,
and soon they will be caught and beheaded!”
“I should like the pleasure of doing it myself!” said the Wicked King,
grimly. “Have them left alive until I get there!”
And he stalked out of the Palace, and followed the messenger through
the streets of the Red City.
Finally he came upon a great crowd of his subjects, and beyond
them, standing against the wall, were Bab and Dick and the Princess,
frightened almost to death!
“Ah!” said the Wicked King, with a cruel smile. “Now I have you, you
impudent creatures! You upstarts from the Real World! Now I will cut
off your heads with my own hands!”
And he drew his sword.
[Illustration]
XV
_By the City Wall_
[Illustration]
[Illustration]