"Slay me these strangers!" exclaimed the king, in his gruffest voice.

Now Nerle, when he beheld these terrible Dart Slingers, of whom he had
heard many tales in his boyhood, began to shiver and shake with
fright, so that his teeth rattled one upon another. And he reflected:
"Soon shall I be content, for these darts will doubtless pierce every
part of my body."

The dwarfs formed a line at one side of the gloomy throne-room, and
Prince Marvel, who had been earnestly regarding them, caught Nerle by
the arm and led him to the opposite wall.

"Stand close behind me and you will be safe," he whispered to his esquire.

Then each dwarf fixed a dart in his sling, and at a word from their
chief they all drew back their arms and launched a shower of the sharp
missiles at the strangers.

Swift and true they sped, each dart intended to pierce the body of the
youthful knight who stood so calm before them. Prince Marvel had
raised his right arm, and in his hand was a small leather sack, with a
wide mouth. 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