"Then don't, my dear. I only thought it would make a little run for you."
But mannikin only said quite snappy,
"Goodness sake, go 'way."
So she went; locking the door behind her, to keep him good and tight.
And the real truth was that about a minute back the Commander-in-Chief had crept into the back-yard in his slippers, and whispered mannikin through the crack to tell him where the key was, and he would let him out to escape. For the Commander-in-Chief knew that would get Tiny into an awful row with the King.
So mannikin got in a fearful state, and ran up and down the door, and told the Commander-in-Chief about the key on the nail in the kitchen, and to get it quick! goodness sake quick!
Then the Commander-in-Chief crept to the back-door, disguised as a milk-man, and peeped into the kitchen. And he found the nail, but no key on it: for the key was in the pocket of one of the Others all the time—and a good job, too.
So when the Commander-in-Chief saw he was disappointed of spiting Tiny that way, he ran back to the crack, and spat, and swore most terribly, while poor little mannikin cuddled away in the corner out of range.
And the Commander-in-Chief said he must report mannikin to the King for trying to escape, because it was his duty: for the Commander-in-Chief is head of the Policeman as well as of the Army in That Country.
And he went on about how he would never have believed it, never; and how disappointed he was; and how he had hoped, and so on, etc.