"My pretty pet," said Dame Drusilda, "you waste words with him. Let us ask some of these other creatures to help us. Maybe they are not as bad as their master."
So she coquettishly sidled up to Grouthead, Boundingbore, Mandrake, Wolfinger, and Snoutpimple who stood near by in a highly interested group. But before she could say even a word Grouthead gathered her up in his arms, and held her out in the air, while in her fright she kept kicking the turned-in toes of her tiny shoes together.
"Don't be alarmed, my dear," he croaked, in tones that were meant to be reassuring. "There's a heart here that beats for you, and you alone!"
"Where's the heart?" she gasped.
"In this troubled breast," he roared. "I've half a mind to marry you."
"Put me down!" she screamed. "I wouldn't marry anyone with half a mind!"
[Illustration]
Dragonfel rose, and stamped his foot angrily, at which silent rebuke Grouthead set Dame Drusilda hastily down. She gave a sigh of great relief, and, gathering up her skirts, flew toward the enchanter.
"Oh, sir," she implored, "can nothing move you?"
"Yes," he said, in sneering tones, "a ton of dynamite! You are a pippin, but you withered on the stem!"
"You villain!" she screamed, shaking a tiny clenched fist at him. "I could annihilate you for that; you deserve worse!"
And she made for him again, but the tactful Violet and Daffodil grasped each of her arms, and held her back.
Dragonfel grinned most provokingly, and his myrmidons fairly shook with glee, while the Demon Usher cackled his exultation, and poked the Red Spirit on his elastic ribs.
Titania took a little spider-web affair of a handkerchief from her bodice, for her eyes threatened to fill again.
Noting the coming tears, the wicked enchanter hastened to say, in tones that were meant to be particularly comforting:
"No harm shall befall you. When you have a wish you have but to name it."
[Illustration]
"I have one now," spoke up Titania quickly.
"So have I," added Dame Drusilda.
"I'll hear yours later," said Dragonfel to the latter gruffly, and then turned to Titania with what he thought was a most winning smile. "What is yours?"
"I want my Brownie prince!"
"Didn't I tell you you were never going to see him again?" said the enchanter, in disgust. "Ask me something else, and make it as hard as you can."
But Titania had no other wish, and Dame Drusilda was given no opportunity to make hers known.
The days dragged slowly by, and, though Dragonfel was not actually rough in the treatment of his captives, he still was most unkind in depriving them of the liberty for which they continually sighed. They were watched and spied upon continually, so there was little or no chance for escape.
[Illustration]
He endeavored to provide amusements for which they had no heart, and was a sorry host at best. In his crude efforts to entertain them he welcomed all ideas for sports and diversions, so when on one occasion they were all together, and his prisoners seemed unusually depressed, he sat upon his throne knitting his brows in trying to think of something that might cheer them up a bit.
In the midst of his unsuccessful cogitations the Demon Usher half skipped, half flew, to him, and prostrated himself at his feet.
"Kind master!" he cried, in a flutter of excitement.
"What is it?" asked Dragonfel.
"A band of wandering minstrels outside humbly crave permission to play before you."
"What, another?" said Dragonfel. "Show them in!"
The words he used were hospitable enough, but the tone of his voice boded little good for the daring musicians.
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CHAPTER XIII
NEPTUNE STILLS THE WAVES
[Illustration]
Up and down like corks bobbed the Brownies on the angry waves when their raft was so suddenly demolished by the storm. The blackness of the night was so intense that even with their supernatural vision they could not see each other save in those vivid streaks of lightning that came often and for a brief moment made all around as bright as day.
The wild wind and waves bore them farther and farther apart from each other, so that it was every one for himself, which was against all principle in a band that delighted in mutual help.
But in this case they could not give it. The water got in their noses and mouths, causing them to gasp, choke, and splutter, while their ears rang, and their eyes were nearly blinded.
[Illustration]
Desperately they clung to the splintered pieces of debris, to the dog-house that spun over and over, to the gate that turned upside down, or straddled logs that kept rolling with Brownies first up and then under like teetotums.
[Illustration]
And others, not so fortunate, with strength fast leaving them, still swam the waters seeking and groping in vain for some object to sustain them.
Then, right in the midst of all their terrible danger, when hope was fast departing from all hearts, a wonderful thing happened.
[Illustration]
There came a sudden radiance that was not the lightning's flash, illuminating old Father Neptune and a bevy of lovely-faced dryads in a golden chariot that furiously galloping seahorses drew across the waves.
In a brief space no longer than a second the God of the Sea and his beauteous attendants passed on out of sight, but almost with their disappearance the lightning and thunder ceased, as did the rain, the wind died down, the stars once more shone out, and the water grew as smooth as glass.
When buffeted no longer by boisterous winds and waves the chance the Brownies had to save themselves increased immeasurably.