[Illustration: WRAPPED THEIR HANDKERCHIEFS ROUND THEIR HEADS] [Illustration: "I, TOO, HOPE SO," SAID HIS WIFE, WHO HAD JUST COME IN] But all thought of the grave problem to be discussed was forgotten, for at this moment there entered many more victims of the travelling prison. (Smaly, who up to now had not been so _very, very_ astonished at anything he had seen or heard since he had passed through the chocolate door, really was a little surprised when he saw these victims.) The chief sufferers seemed to have been the Rats, whose business it was to keep the sugar-cane forest well watered. Nearly all had one leg which was much longer than the other, or a very long arm, or an elongated nose, or a tail that went on for ever. "They must have been walking upon hot Soy," whispered a Wig to Smaly. This Wig was a Dwarf with a very large head, and he carried a watering-can, out of which he perpetually drank a few drops. Smaly and Redy, their eyes round with curiosity, questioned him eagerly. "The Prisoner wanted to cripple us all for the rest of our days," said the Dwarf, drinking a little more water, for he suffered from a continual thirst. "If you know what a match is," observed the Crow, settling his spectacles, "you will very soon understand what has happened." "Yes," continued the Dwarf, looking anxiously into the bottom of his watering-can. "When the prison had crossed the square the Architect made an attempt to save the plans." "By the Architect he means the Confectioner," whispered Redy to Smaly. [Illustration: NEARLY ALL HAD ONE LEG WHICH WAS MUCH LONGER THAN THE OTHER, OR A VERY LONG ARM] "He rushed after the Prisoner, crying out to him to stop; but the Prisoner only looked at him with his big eyes and, ceasing for a second to break the sugar-canes, seized hold of a little wax vesta. He stared at the Architect with eyes full of hate, and cried, 'I think no more of you than I do of this match.'" [Illustration: HIS ELONGATED TAIL WAS TIED TO THE QUEUE OF HIS WIG] "No, no," interrupted one of the Rats, "that's not how it happened at all." He carried one long leg on a crutch, and his elongated tail was tied to the queue of his wig. "That's not how it happened at all," he repeated. "Do you mean to tell me he did not show the match?" asked the Dwarf. "Certainly not," replied the Rat. Smaly asked the Rat what the Prisoner had really done. The Rat, with fear in his eyes at the mere memory, made answer: "He struck his match on a little box so that it sprang into flame, and offered it to the Architect through the sugar-canes. The Architect, of course, ran away, and in running he broke his leg." [Illustration: "BUT ONLY LOOK AT OUR ARMS AND LEGS"] "Ah! I'd forgotten that detail," said the Dwarf. "A detail!" cried several of the Rats. "A detail! But only look at our arms and legs."