Still the waters rose, and the excitement increased.
Dragonfel in the most abject terror stormed and shouted at his followers, issuing angry commands for them to exert themselves to do something, but they were all helpless, and his words were wasted on the air to no purpose.
They were too frightened to be of assistance, even if it had been possible to render it, though in cases where one was overcome there were those who attempted the work of resuscitation.
The wicked enchanter ran about like a maniac, with little or no thought of where he was going, until suddenly with a shriek of fright he plunged into a circular pit that had been dug deep into the earth for a distance of perhaps fifty feet.
There was sufficient water at the bottom of the pit to break his severe fall, which was fortunate for him, as otherwise it would have resulted in his end.
He was stunned and dazed, but in nowise injured beyond some bruises, and he frantically reached up and clutched a jagged point of rock by which he pulled himself out of the water that was nearly to his neck and promising him more.
The horror of his situation was at once made plain to him. Beyond this rock there was nothing by which he could maintain even the slightest hold, and the waters which were steadily rising would soon submerge him and end all.
His evil scheming had led to his own undoing, and in causing misfortune to so many he had brought upon himself the most terrible misfortune of all.
Looking up helplessly he could see a number of the Brownies trying to peer down at him through the darkness. They lay flat on their stomachs, and leaned as far out over the hole as prudence would permit.
“Help! help!” screamed Dragonfel, in a frenzy of fear. “Save me! save me!”