"Can not something be done to rescue these poor people from their sad fate?" asked the lovely High Ki, anxiously.
"We will make a call upon this Kwytoffle to-morrow," answered Prince Marvel, "and see what the fellow is like."
"Alas! Alas!" wailed the good farmer, "you will all become grasshoppers and June-bugs--every one of you!"
But none of the party seemed to fear that, and having passed the night comfortably with the farmer they left his house and journeyed on into the Kingdom of Auriel.
Before noon they came upon the edge of a forest, where a poor man was chopping logs into firewood. Seeing Prince Marvel's party approach, this man ran toward them waving his hands and shouting excitedly:
"Take the other path! Take the other path!"
"And why should we take the other path?" inquired the prince, reining in his steed.
"Because this one leads to the castle of the great sorcerer, Kwytoffle," answered the man.
"But there is where we wish to go," said Marvel.
"What! You wish to go there?" cried the man. "Then you will be robbed and enslaved!"