Kitey, being unarmed, was directed by Harry to stand back against the wall and keep a sharp lookout over the Hall, in order to prevent any sudden surprises.
The King of the Gnomes by this time was seated upon the throne, and on each side of him sat Cattisack and Grumpy. The three were earnestly talking together.
“Prince,” Kitey said in a low voice, so as not to be heard by the Gnomes below, “the King of the Gnomes seems to be consulting with our former King and the Lord of the Safety-Pin. Now he is giving orders to his attendants, and they are running down the Hall. Look, Prince! they are bringing a table and chairs, and are going to climb up here!”
“Don’t get excited, old man,” said Harry. “I’ve been waiting for them to do something of the kind.”
The boy stood calmly with his right hand in his coat-pocket while the Gnomes dragged a table up to the wardrobe and clambered upon it.
“Now, Smithkin!” he cried, “poke them with the butt end of your spear!” And at the same time he drew forth his little pop-gun and fired pointblank at the foremost Gnome. The cork struck the fellow between the eyes, and over he went backwards, knocking half a dozen of the other Gnomes off the table as he fell. The unexpected report of the pistol, and the disastrous result of the shot, threw the Gnomes on Smithkin’s side off their guard, and with a quick, vigorous thrust of his long spear-handle, the soldier knocked four more from the table.
Quick as a flash Harry recovered the cork, which was attached to the pistol by a cord, and setting the spring, he pushed the cork in as tight as he could, and fired again. The report was so loud that the few Gnomes still upon the table tumbled off from sheer fright.
The King of the Gnomes, seeing that this attempt had failed, gave orders to try another plan for dislodging Harry and his companions. Soon a number of Gnomes began bringing in armfuls of wood, which they piled near the wardrobe.
“They are going to burn us out!” cried Kitey.
