his heart was like mad drums in a night attack, and a string of one of
his sandals went tap on a rung of a ladder, and the leaves of the
forest were mute, and the breeze of the night was still; and Tonker
prayed that a mouse or a mole might make any noise at all, but not a
creature stirred, even Nuth was still. And then and there, while yet
he was undiscovered, the likely lad made up his mind, as he should
have done long before, to leave those colossal emeralds where they
were and have nothing further to do with the lean, high house of the
gnoles, but to quit this sinister wood in the nick of time and retire
from business at once and buy a place in the country. Then he
descended softly and beckoned to Nuth. But the gnoles had watched him
though knavish holes that they bore in trunks of the trees, and the
unearthly silence gave way, as it were with a grace, to the rapid
screams of Tonker as they picked him up from behind--screams that came
faster and faster until they were incoherent. And where they took him
it is not good to ask, and what they did with him I shall not say.

Nuth looked on for a while from the corner of the house with a mild
surprise on his face as he rubbed his chin, for the trick of the holes
in the trees was new to him; then he stole nimbly away through the
dreadful wood.

"And did they catch Nuth?" you ask me, gentle reader.

"Oh, no, my child" (for such a question is childish). "Nobody ever
catches Nuth."



HOW ONE CAME, AS WAS FORETOLD, TO THE CITY OF NEVER