The fat lady began crying anew at this, and presently the door opened and a young girl entered the hall. She was clothed in simple robes of pure white, over which her loose brown hair flowed in a soft cloud. Her eyes were large and dark and very gentle in expression, and her cheeks were fair as a lily. In one hand the maid bore a long sword, the naked blade of which shone brightly in the light. In the other hand was a sharpening-stone, and as she bowed before the kinglet she rubbed the stone gently against the keen edge of the blade.
Although the dog's heads were still quarrelling, and Bebe Celeste still weeping, it was upon John Dough that the Royal Executioner first turned her eyes.
"I hope it isn't this one, your Majesty!" she said, in a voice of disappointment; "for he won't bleed at all, being made of cake."
"I beg your pardon," exclaimed John, hastily. "I am not cake, but gingerbread."
"It's just the same," she answered, sighing; "you wouldn't bleed if I cut you into bits."
"Why are you so bloodthirsty?" asked John, looking reproachfully into the girl's gentle eyes.
"Because I'm the Royal Executioner, I suppose," she answered. "I've held the office ever since my father was destroyed by an earthquake; but I've never yet executed a single person. The kinglet calls me in about a dozen times a day, but something always happens to rob me of my victim. I've worn out three sword blades, sharpening them, but I've never carved anything yet!"
"Be of good cheer," said his Majesty, "for now you shall see blood flow like water. This time I am fully resolved to be terrible. Cut me this snarling cur into two parts!"