“Don’t depend too much on those magical powers,” cautioned the Lion anxiously.
“We’ll do what we can. In the meantime, though, you’d better get back before you’re missed.”
“That’s right,” agreed Hob, with a worried look. He unfastened the gate and let himself though. “I’ll come down, or send someone everyday to see how you’re getting along. Goodbye and good luck.” Spreading his wings, he soared out of sight up the winding stairway.
Dorothy gazed after him enviously. “It must be fun to fly,” she mused.
“Not for me!” declared the Lion with a shudder. “I’ll keep my feet on the ground, thank you.”
“You’re just afraid to try it,” teased Taggle.
“Of course I am,” replied the big beast placidly. “That’s why I’m the Cowardly Lion.”
“Well, you’re the bravest coward I ever met,” consoled Dorothy, hugging him breathlessly.
“He certainly is,” agreed Taggle.
The Lion ducked his head in embarrassment. “If you’re ready, let’s get started looking for Rory,” he suggested, to change the subject. “I’d like to get this business cleaned up and get home.“ Dorothy heartily agreed with this, and the search began.
The Lion led them to the locked door at the end of the prison. Dorothy produced Ginger’s key and inserted it into the lock. To her delight, it fit perfectly, and the door swung open.
They passed into a large room, which to all appearances, no one had been in for many years. Dust was thick everywhere, and drapes and curtains were stiff with age and grime.
“Spooky, isn’t it,” muttered the Lion. Dorothy nodded, shivering.
“This was a ballroom once,” said Taggle sadly. “I can remember many dances and parties here in this very room. The King and Queen loved good times.”
“Whatever happened to them?” asked the Lion. “Do you think they could be hidden down here too?”
“No,” answered Taggle slowly. “We searched everywhere for them when they disappeared. I am certain that they were destroyed.”
“But if… if Gip could destroy them,” Dorothy spoke hesitantly, “how do you know that he didn’t destroy Rory too?”
“Rory was protected,” answered the old man. “When he was born, his father gave him a magic ring, which as long as he wore it, would protect him from destruction. I am sure that he still has it, or Gip would be wearing it.”
“Well, let’s get started,” said the Lion.
The ballroom opened into a corridor with arched doorways on either side. All that day they searched without success. Tired and disheartened, they returned to the prison to sleep. The next day was a repetition of the first, and they could only shake their heads in defeat when Hob came to inquire as to their progress. The third day they went through all the rooms again, each taking one, then trading off, and finally meeting again in the corridor to look at each other in baffled silence.
“Let’s stop for the day,” suggested Taggle finally. “Dorothy can hardly keep her eyes open, and I’m tired too.”
“Wait a minute,” mumbled the Lion. “There’s something wrong here.“ He snuffed along the baseboard between two doorways. Dorothy dropped in a tired little heap on the floor and watched him dispiritedly. He disappeared into the room beyond. After a few moments, he emerged.
“Satisfied?” asked Taggle.
“No, wait.” The Lion glanced at the two arches, came back down the corridor and entered the other room. Taggle sat down beside Dorothy as the Lion returned. Without giving them a glance, he crossed the hall and examined the two rooms there. Shortly he returned, looking very pleased with himself. “I think I’ve found it,” he announced.
Dorothy and Taggle jumped up, their weariness forgotten. “What?” they chorused.
The Lion led them into all four rooms in turn. He gave them time only for a quick look around in each, then took them back into the corridor.
“Do you see it?” he asked.
They shook their head. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” admitted Dorothy.
“Can’t you see that the rooms across the hall are larger than these?” persisted the Lion. “They were at least five feet longer— yet the doors are the same distance apart on both sides of the corridor. Now what would the extra space on this side be for?”
“A secret passageway!” gasped Dorothy.
“Exactly,” applauded the Lion. “Which may lead us to Rory.“ Dorothy clapped her hands. “Oh, I hope so!” she cried. Then, growing serious, she asked, “I wonder how we can get into it?”
“That remains to be seen,” announced the Lion. “First let’s find out if there’s an opening.“ It was Dorothy who first discovered the tiny crack. It ran up one side, across, and down the other.
“That’s the door,” pronounced Taggle solomnly.
They pushed at it, but the section was unyielding. Giving up on that idea, they pushed and twisted every one of the jewels which studded the smooth stone wall in the hope of finding a spring which would release the door. Finally, they all sat down on the floor and glared at the stubborn stone.
Finally Dorothy arose determinedly, pulled Ginger’s key from her pocket, and again approached the door.
“Oh, don’t be silly,” advised the Lion. “How can you use the key when there isn’t any key hole?”
“There must be,” insisted Dorothy. “If this is really a door, there must be some way of opening it.” She held the key close to the door and moved it back and forth over the smooth surface.
Suddenly Taggle gave a shout. The key was changing into a thin thread of steel.
Dorothy pushed it against the door, and the key, shrinking still more, slipped into an imperceptable hole. Scarcely breathing, Dorothy turned the key.
Instantly there was a sharp click, and the panel swung back, revealing a dark, narrow flight of stairs.
CHAPTER XVI
THE LOST KING IS FOUND
“Shall we go down?” whispered Dorothy.
Taggle considered for a moment and shook his head. “Let’s wait until tomorrow and have a good night’s sleep first,” he proposed. “Then if we should run into trouble, we’ll be better able to cope with it.”
“Maybe you will,” returned the Lion, “but after I’ve lain awake all night worrying about what night be down there, I’ll be afraid to go find out. You can go to sleep if you want to; I’m going down right now.”
“Me too.” Dorothy caught at his mane.
Taggle grinned. “I’ll sleep better myself if we look now,” he confessed. “We’ll need a light though.“ Dorothy rummaged through the contents of the cart. Triumphantly she produced a small but powerful lamp.
“I’ll go first,” the Lion offered.
Single file they tiptoed cautiously down the steep stairs. At the bottom was a long, winding passageway. They followed it, hardly breathing in their excitement. It turned and twisted, doubling back upon itself, until Dorothy wondered if it would ever take them anywhere.
At length it separated into two passages. Dorothy and Taggle were dismayed at this; but the Lion, after a sniff down each, unhesitatingly selected the left-hand corridor and forged ahead.
Presently the Lion rounded a corner and stopped in his tracks. “Put out the light!“ he hissed frantically. With trembling fingers, Dorothy switched off the lamp. “Come up here,” breathed the Lion. Cautiously they crept up to him. Far ahead they could see a faint glimmer of light. “Follow me,” the Lion whispered. “Don’t make a sound.“ Dorothy slipped off her shoes, carrying them in her hand. Taggle followed suit.
Noiseless as ghosts, they continued down the tunnel.
“It’s getting nearer,” choked Dorothy. Shrinking against the side of the corridor, she felt an opening in the wall. Quickly she drew her companions into it. Crouched behind a ledge, they watched the light approach until Dorothy, swallowing a gasp of fright, recognized the cruel features of Gip.
Directly oposite them, he stopped. Turning away, he touched a
tiny hole in the wall. A large section of wall swung away, revealing an empty, barred room. In the corner was a heap of what looked to be rags.
“Ho, Rory!” called Gip. The bundle of rags stirred, and a thin white face stared at him. “Get up, King,” jeered Gip. “Is this any way to greet your loving uncle?“ The boy, not much older than Dorothy, rose and stumbled to the bars. “What do you want?” he asked, with quiet dignity.
“I’ve come to give you a last chance,” answered Gip.“Give me the ring, and I’ll take you out of here.”
“Never!” answered Rory.
“Think before you decide,” cautioned Gip. “If you agree, I’ll take you away from here, change you so you won’t be recognized, and let you go free. If you refuse, I’ll shut you in here forever. Take your choice.“ The boy hesitated only for a moment; then his chin went up. “I will not give you my father’s ring.”
“Is that your final decision?” demanded Gip, his face dark with rage. For answer, Rory turned his back. For an hour, Gip alternately pleaded and threatened, but the boy refused even to answer. “All right,” announced Gip at last, “you’ve had your chance, and you’ll never have another. I can get along without the ring, but you’ll spend the rest of your life here. Goodbye, Rory.
I’ll think of you sometimes.” He slammed the section of wall back into place and strode off down the corridor. As the light faded away into the distance, Dorothy raised her head with a sigh of relief.
The Lion was already back in the corridor. “Quick, Dorothy, turn on the light and get that boy out of there. I’ll follow Gip.” He was gone before they could protest. Dorothy switched on the light and soon found the hole in the wall.
She inserted her finger as Gip had done, touched the spring at the bottom and again the wall sprang back. Rory stood in the room, his back to the door.
“Rory!” faltered the old Counselor, stretching out his arms.
The boy turned quickly at the sound of that familiar voice. “Uncle Taggle!” he cried. “How did you ever find me?” He hugged the old man through the bars. “Does Gip know you’re here? You’d better go before he finds you.”
“Gip’s gone,” returned Taggle. “And we’re going to get you out of here.“ Rory smiled sadly. “You can’t,” he answered. “The door is locked, and Gip has the key.”
“I have a magic key,” explained Dorothy, holding it up. She fitted it into the lock; a moment later Rory was free. Taggle pulled him out into the corridor.
“Shut the panel,” urged Dorothy.
Taggle turned his attention to the open section of the wall, pushing it until it clicked shut. “Let’s go,” he puffed.
“We have to wait for the Lion,” Dorothy reminded him.
“Lion?” echoed Rory. “A real Lion? What is he doing here?”
“Rescuing you,” chuckled Taggle. At the boy’s questioning look, he told him all about Dorothy and the Lion, their arrival in Cumuland and their subsequent adventures.
“And now we have to get you out of here,” broke in Dorothy, “and get you back on your throne so we can go home.”
“I wonder what’s keeping the Lion,” fretted Taggle. “I hope he hasn’t run into any trouble. Maybe we should go after him.”’ At that moment, however, the Lion came bounding up the corridor.
“Gip’s gone back upstairs,” he announced. “I followed him to be sure he wouldn’t come back and surprise us.”
“That’s good,” answered Taggle. “Now let’s get Rory away from here and give him something to eat. He looks half starved.”
“I am,” remarked the boy composedly. “I haven’t had anything to eat for a week.“ Sputtering with indignation, Taggle half carried, half dragged him along the tunnel.
“Put him on my back,” proposed the Lion. “We can go faster that way. I won’t feel safe until we’re out of here.” Rory was half afraid of the great beast, but climbed gamely onto his back.
“Hang onto his mane,” advised Dorothy. “That’s the way I always ride him.” Rory clenched his teeth and hung on, determined that no mere girl should be braver than he.
They hurried back through the passageway and up the stairs. Taggle closed the panel, and they hastily retraced their steps down the corridor, through the ballroom, and back to the cell by the gate.
Here Dorothy rang the dinner bell. Ginger quickly appeared with food for the half-starved boy. He ate ravenously, occasionally reaching out to touch Taggle and assure himself that it was not all a dream.
When his hunger was satisfied, he told them of his experiences during the past year.
“On the day before my twelfth birthday,” he began, “I told Gip that I was old enough to rule my country. He tried to persuade me to wait, but I was disgusted with his cruelty and harshness and refused to listen. He pretended to give in, agreeing to give up the throne the next day. Then he led me down to the room in which you found me, saying that he had a letter written by my father before his disappearance. I suppose I should have suspected treachery, but I was so anxious to see my father’s letter that I never thought of it. As soon as I entered the room, he slammed the door and locked it. Every day he would come to bring me food and to ask me to give him my ring. Last week he didn’t come until tonight. I was almost ready to give him the ring, but I knew that if he got it, he’d lock me up again for good, or destroy me.”
“I don’t see how you could know how many days you were there, remarked Dorothy. “Wasn’t it dark all the time?”
“There was a crack in the wall near the ceiling; it let in a little light during the day.“ Dorothy shuddered. “It must have been dreadful to be shut up in there for so long. Gip is a horrid man.”
“He is indeed,” agreed Taggle, “and he will be well punished for his wickedness.”
“But not tonight,” yawned the Lion. “So pick yourselves a cell, and let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow will probably he a long, hard day.”
“It will be an exciting one anyway,” chuckled Taggle happily. “Come along, Rory.
The Lion is right. We’ll need to be rested before we face Gip.“ Exhausted as they were, they slept until the arrival of Hob, who had faithfully visited them each day. The Lion was the first to hear his approach, and met him at the gate.
“Where were you yesterday?” asked Hob. “I waited for you as long as I dared.”
“Out finding your King for you,” returned the Lion, with a tremendous yawn.
“Would you like to see him?” At Hob’s eager, almost disbelieving assent, the Lion led him to the cell in which the young King slept. Hob looked at him for a long time, then tiptoed quietly out. “He looks so thin and pale,” he murmured.
“So would you,” answered the Lion, “if you had been shut up in a dark room and starved for a year.” Hob’s snort of indignation woke Dorothy and Taggle.
“Did you see him?” asked Dorothy eagerly.
Hob nodded. “We will never be able to thank you. May I tell everyone that he has been found?“ Dorothy looked to Taggle, who nodded. “Tell them,” he ordered, “but be sure that Gip doesn’t find out. We mean to face him in the throne room. See that everyone there is loyal to the boy.”
“Everyone in Cumuland is loyal to Rory,” asserted Hob. “I’ll see that the guard is there—the strangers’ magic will protect them all, will it not?”
“I can’t promise that,” returned Dorothy. “We do have some magic, but I don’t know how to use it. Still, Gip can’t fight against the whole kingdom.“ Rory, awakened by their voices, made his appearance. “Hello, Hob,” he greeted the guardsman.
“Your Majesty!” cried Hob, dropping to one knee.
“Oh, get up!” exclaimed Rory impatiently. “You don’t have to kneel to me. I don’t like it, and I won’t permit it when I’m King.“ Hob rose and took the boy’s hand. “Your Majesty, I welcome you back to your kingdom and assure you of the loyalty of your subjects.”
“Thank you,” returned Rory with dignity. “You may tell my subjects to expect me shortly—shortly
after I eat,” he added with a grin.
“I’ll bring you some clothes,” offered Hob, turning toward the gate.
“No!” Taggle shook his head. “Let everyone see how he has been treated. Then, if there are any who would side with Gip, they will know what to expect from him.”
“No one will,” returned Hob positively. “Still, I think you’re right. I’ll go now to spread the news. I’ll call you as soon as Gip goes to the throne room.“ He returned in an hour, followed by a group of men. Rory knew most of them, and called them by name. “It’s the Prince, all right. No doubt about it,” called out one of the men. In an instant Rory was surrounded, each man trying to touch him and speak with him.
When the first excitement subsided, Rory started toward the gate. Dorothy, Taggle and the Lion followed him closely. At the foot of the foot of the stairs, Rory spread his wings, but they faltered and would not bear his weight. Quietly he began to walk up the stairs. Behind him he could hear shocked exclamations and whispers.
The Red Jinn Page 10
