NO mistake, either! For Peterkin it truly was, coming toward the palace! Peterkin, astride the shoulders of his old companion, flying through the clouds. At first they were only two specks, dark and tiny; then, coming nearer, they grew larger and larger, until the courtiers, crowding at the windows, could see the eager look in Peterkin’s bright eyes and could catch a glimpse of the red gums of the old villain under him.
Nearer, nearer—then swooping down from the clouds and in at the window came the two travelers, into the midst of those who thronged the golden throne room.
The toothless villain ran and cowered in a corner, trembling with fear. But Peterkin stood forth boldly, his head thrown back with pride.
“Here am I, Your Majesty!” he cried. “Here am I, returned whence I once fled. You may thrust me back into that pitchy dungeon—you may kill me, but——”
Great cheers drowned the rest of his words. One and all, the courtiers, the nobles, the King himself, were waving jeweled hands and making a joyous thunder of his name.
“Peterkin! Peterkin, our hero! Peterkin, our saviour! Brave, mighty, magic Peterkin!”
He fell back and rubbed his eyes. What did it all mean? Could he be dreaming?
No, for the King had risen from his throne now and was coming down its golden steps straight toward him, with arms outstretched.
“You have swept the shadows from my domain!” he cried. “You have brought laughter into faces which once were bathed in tears. You have given joy for sorrow—and joy—aye, untold joy!—shall be your reward! Ask of me now whatever you most wish, and I promise it shall be yours! But first of all, we must take our proper revenge upon the villain you have so neatly brought into our power.”
