And they ran on again. But the drowsy man-at-arms did wake quite up just at that very moment. And, yawning and shivering with sleep, he stumbled into the throne-room of the Palace, calling out, “Thief! Thief! A thief has stolen away the Princess! Help! Help!” Now the Palace of the Wicked King was simply full of people of all sorts. There were plenty of men-at-arms, and retainers, and cooks, and gentlemen-in-waiting, and courtiers, and scullions, and pages, and maids, and court-ladies, and when the sleepy soldier cried “Thief!” and “Help!” they all came running out of their rooms all over the Palace and hurried down stairs. And there was the wildest excitement possible in the throne-room of the Wicked King. And then the door of the royal apartments opened, and the Wicked King himself appeared. And he said, in a deep angry voice, “Why is there so much noise?” And everyone trembled and bowed low before him. For of course they were all dreadfully afraid of him! For a minute or two no one dared to speak, and the King stood there in his crimson robes, with his gold crown on his wicked head, and glared at everybody. “_Well?_” he thundered suddenly. And the sleepy soldier ventured to speak at last. “Lord—Master—” he quavered, “two strangers have carried off the Princess!” “_What!_” roared the Wicked King. “And what were you doing, all of you, while they were carrying her off?” “Your Majesty,” said the poor man-at-arms, “we—we were asleep!” And then he took to his heels and ran away as hard and fast and far as he could. The Wicked King was so disturbed by the fact of Star’s disappearance that he did not take the time and trouble to have the man caught and beheaded, as he certainly would have done at any other time. “Where is Grump?” he demanded, looking quite pale with rage and fear. “He has not yet appeared,” said one of the courtiers. “He has not been here to-day at all, O most augustly Wicked King!” “Strange!” muttered the Wicked King. “Surely nothing can have gone wrong? He was to have brought me the spell from the Fairy Queen before this. It should certainly be in the city by now.” And as a matter of fact, it was in the city then, but it had not been brought by Grump! For, as we know, Grump had been robbed of all his wicked power by Meg in his underground cave, and instead of being able to fly on a cloud to his master with his woes he had to travel slowly and painfully through the wood, and over the Sea of Glass like any other every-day sort of person. At this moment who should come swarming in but the Mischief Brownies,—the very same bad little sprites whom Bab had outwitted in Santa Claus’s barn. They hurried into the Wicked King’s Palace, and wailed out their story,—how they had stopped the mortal girl, as had been commanded, and how she had followed them and chased them out of the barn with a frightful, roaring monster, just as they had cut off one of the Wooden Cow’s magic horns.