Nerle turned around in his saddle. Sure enough, there were the Gray
Men in the rear--stepping from behind every boulder and completely
filling the rocky pathway.
"Well, what shall we do?" asked the esquire; "fight?"
"No, indeed!" returned Prince Marvel, laughing at his friend's eager
face. "It appears the path we chose winds around in a circle, and so
has brought us back to our starting-point. So we must make the best of a
bad blunder and spend another night with our ugly friend King Terribus."
They rode forward through the rows of giants to the castle, where the
ever-courteous servants took their horses and escorted them to their
former handsome apartments with every mark of respect.
No one seemed in the least surprised at their speedy return, and this
fact at first puzzled Nerle, and then made him suspicious.
After bathing and dusting their clothing they descended to the banquet
hall, where King Terribus sat upon his gray stone throne and welcomed
them with quiet courtesy.
The sight of the king's crimson skin and deformed face sent a thrill
of repugnance through Prince Marvel, and under the impulse of a sudden
thought he extended his hand toward Terribus and whispered a magic
word which was unheard by any around him.
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