As the darts flew near him a strange thing happened: they
each and all swerved from their true course and fell rattling into the
leathern sack, to the wonder of the royal slingers and the dismay of
King Terribus himself.
"Again!" screamed the king, his usually mild voice hoarse with anger.
So again the dwarfs cast their darts, and again the leathern sack
caught them every one. Another flight followed, and yet another, till
the magic sack was packed full of the darts and not a dwarf had one
remaining in his quiver.
Amid the awed silence of the beholders of this feat the merry laughter
of Prince Marvel rang loud and clear; for the sight of the puzzled and
terrified faces about him was very comical. Plucking a dart from the
sack he raised his arm and cried:
"Now it is my turn. You shall have back your darts!"
"Hold!" shouted the king, in great fear. "Do not, I beg you, slay my
faithful servants." And with a wave of his hand he dismissed the
dwarfs, who were glad to rush from the room and escape.
Nerle wiped the tears from his eyes, for he was sorely disappointed at
having again escaped all pain and discomfort; but Prince Marvel seated
himself quietly upon a stool and looked at the scowling face of King
Terribus with real amusement.
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