The door opened smartly and the Captain of the City Guard appeared framed in the doorway, a stoutly-built man in a full suit of mail, with a beard like a pound of coarse-cut tobacco and a rough but not unkindly face.
“My liege,” he said, making a leg, “pray pardon my pushing in, but a strange armed force has appeared suddenly, demanding the surrender of the two foreign children and the Snerg.”
“An armed force, fellow!” cried the King with justifiable anger. “Demanding of me—I mean us! You are surely talking through your morion.”
“Nay, sire, it is but too true. Some two score of large men in quaint boots and some ten score or more of small dwarfish men who may be Snergs. They say that if the three they demand be given to them uninjured they will go in peace.”
The King rose to the occasion with true dignity. “Admit them to the City,” he said. “We will talk with their leader.”
“Well, sire,” said the Captain of the Guard, with a not unnatural embarrassment, “the fact is, they have admitted themselves. You see, it happened that I was athirst, and----”
“We will look into that later,” interrupted the King with a stern look. “In the meantime, invite this force into our hall as soon as I have taken my seat on the throne.”