XIIITHE TOOTHLESS ENEMY
WHILE Peterkin lay dreaming in the dungeon, the King and his guards were roaming the town in search of the toothless old farmer—that arch-enemy of the Four Kingdoms. But though they searched until the sun was low in the red west, they caught never a glimpse of him. He had found a secret hiding place which none could guess.
He had fallen, you remember, into the fountain of the market place. And what a splash it was! What a wetting!
Spluttering, dripping, he climbed out over the fountain’s rim. With a trail of water streaming on the cobbled street behind him, he shambled along into the shadow of a doorwayand stood there shivering and wringing his hands for many minutes. Then he wiped the water from his eyes and looked about him.
What had become of Peterkin he did not know—nor did he care. For Peterkin would be of no more use to him, now that he was in the King’s city. He smiled a toothless smile to think of how completely he had fooled that little wayfarer. Never a hint had he given Peterkin of the wicked harm he meant to do to the Four Kingdoms—and of the sweet revenge that he would take! Hee, hee! and he gnashed his gums in hate.
He glanced over at the gilded dome of the palace. Strange lights were passing back and forth behind the darkened windows. Something had happened ... the palace was astir! Ha, perhaps they had learned that he was come into their city. Perhaps they were setting out at once to find him and to pounce upon him. He had better flee somewhere and hide!
He started to step out into the street. Pit-a-pat, came someone’s footsteps. A tall soldier, hurrying home to bed, clanked noisily ’round the corner. The old man fled back into the hallway, until his back hit against a door. The soldier went by, darting a suspicious glance into the shadow. The farmer crouched back, back, until....
The door flew wide! He had broken it open!
The soldier, at the noise, stopped and looked about him sharply, then retraced his steps. There was nothing for it!The old farmer plunged through the open door and slammed it shut behind him.
It was pitch black there. He groped and stumbled. His knee grazed against a step. He climbed ... then another, and another and another, until he was at the head of a steep flight of stairs. Then another hallway, and another flight of stairs. His hands hit upon something straight and sharp. It was a ladder. Up this he went, too, a rung at a time, through a narrow hole in the ceiling.
A gust of wind caught him full in the face. Above him were the stars—and he knew that he had reached the roof. He crossed it on tiptoe, for fear of the crackle of the tiles under foot. A broken down, tumbled chimney stopped him at the edge. Clinging to its loosened bricks, he could peer down into the street and over the roofs of the houses of the neighborhood. On the other side, the lights had died away in the palace windows—and all was dark and still. Even the startled soldier had disappeared.
He lay down at the bottom of the chimney. Slowly he drifted off to sleep, shivering in his dampened clothes, and mumbling strange words between his gums.
All the next day he lay there, dozing in the heat of the sun upon the open roof. Every little while he raised himself on his elbow to look down into the street. He saw thesoldiers marching back and forth there, so tiny in size, and heard their faint shouts as they halted and searched each passerby.
So they were hunting for him, eh? Well, let them hunt! He would rest here against the chimney pots until the sun had set and the wisp of a new moon had risen ... and then! Ah, then for mischief!