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.

The monarch of Spor had never before been so foiled and scorned by any
living creature. Defeated and humbled before his own people, he bowed
his crimson head on his hands and sullenly regarded his foe with his
top eye. Then it was that the idea came to him that no ordinary
mortal could have thwarted him so easily, and he began to fear he was
dealing--perhaps unawares--with some great magician or sorcerer. That
a fairy should have assumed a mortal form he never once considered,
for such a thing was until then unheard of in the Enchanted Island of
Yew. But with the knowledge that he had met his master, whoever he
might prove to be, and that further attempts upon the stranger's life