Fig. 124.—"Claw Marks Upon the Inside Cover of the Trap-door."
They threw themselves upon the Pixie, smiting face and breast, arms and legs with swift, strong blows. Prince Proud (for that was his name) made but a feeble resistance. Once or twice he stretched out his arms as though to grapple with his assailants, but the Brownies easily avoided him, and springing forward again, showered their sharp blows upon the huge foe. The cause of this apathy was soon explained; he was just over a season of moulting, or changing his skin! Several times before they are grown, Pixies go through this strange process. The whole outer skin peels off. During the change the creatures are almost helpless, and lie still, taking little or no food. After the skin is off, it takes several days for them to regain their strength. During the whole time of this change nothing but the sorest need can stir them up to even as great exertion as Proud had already made.[BE] MacWhirlie saw his advantage at once. He understood how they had escaped thus far so easily. His hopes rose into confidence. He spoke with new cheer.
"Forward, merrily! Sergeant Rise, order in the men who are on the ladders; I shall cut my way past the Pixie to the Captain!" He struck upon the Prince's face, as he ran forward, gave a back-handed stroke as he passed, and then fairly dodged under Proud's legs and passed on into the darkness.
"Captain," he called, "Captain!"
"Here!" was the answer from the far end of the cavern, in the well-known voice of dear old Bruce. "This way, whoever you are. I am bound hand and foot."
On, into the darkness the Lieutenant ran, thinking nothing and caring nothing for obstacles. The little light at the mouth of the cave was shut out from the interior by Proud's huge body; but guided by the voice MacWhirlie strode on through the gloom, and fairly stumbled at last upon his Captain's prostrate form. In a moment the keen edge of Charity had cut the silken cords with which Bruce was swathed, and the strong arms of MacWhirlie lifted him to his feet.
"Who is it?" cried the Captain with trembling voice.
"It is I—MacWhirlie!" And throwing his arms about the captive's neck the brave dragoon sobbed for joy.
Suddenly the darkness of the cave was broken by a flood of light that relieved even the shadows of that end of the cavern where Bruce had lain. MacWhirlie turned. Proud was gone! The Brownies at the mouth of the cave were in great confusion, some sprawling upon the floor, some scrambling to their feet, some swinging by the roof, some hanging to the raised trap-door and some to the mouth of the cave. In the excitement of the moment MacWhirlie let go his hold upon the Captain. The limbs of the unfortunate chief were so benumbed by his severe handling and the tightness of the ropes with which he was bound, that he fell upon the floor.