The princess!
He could hardly see her in the darkness of the hall. He could scarcely recognize the blue of her gown and the glint of her golden hair. But he heard the jingle of many keys in her hand and the creak of the lock, as she tried each key ... and failed!
“Oh, this one will open it,” she whispered, each time. “Oh, this one must!”
Then, at last, she came to the last key in her hand. She thrust it into the hole: it fitted perfectly. She turned it—snap! The lock flew open. Peterkin hunched his back and pushed against the bars. He was in the hall now—and free!
Neither he nor the little princess said a word for a long moment. Then she took his hand and placed into it a little vial of purple liquid.
“Guard this well,” she warned him. “It is the Water of Bounceability. Whenever you wish to leap over great heights, you have only to sip a little of it and then to bounce high up and away. And, alas, you have many heights to leap ere you are back in my royal father’s favor. He is so angry at you for having brought his arch-enemy into the city that he has ordered your death at midnight. The hangman is already plaiting his rope and the carpenters hammering at a high scaffold. So follow me quickly to the city’s edge, where none will find you.”
Peterkin was close at her heels, all the dark way. Through pitchy tunnels she led him, far under the cellars of the city; through narrow cave-like passages, heavy with reeking gases, until at last they came up into an open space, where the woods came down from the slopes of black hills to meet the streets and houses. It was the furthermost edge of the city.
“I must leave you here,” sighed the princess. “I must return and take the spanking which awaits me. But as for you, brave Peterkin, you have your choice: either you may escape safely into exile and never return to see me again—or else you may perform four mighty deeds. Aye, deeds so great that even the King, my father, cannot do them. But if you succeed in them, you may return here, so high in the King’s favor that he will grant your dearest wish. Tell me, stranger, which will you choose?” Ah, little princess—I wonder if she blushed when she said it!
But Peterkin never wavered. “Need you ask, my Princess Clem?” he whispered.