The Wicked King listened to all that they had to say, in a white rage. Were all his plans to go wrong? The situation was infuriating! His servants outwitted by a simple, ordinary, stupid, little mortal girl; his daughter stolen! With an awful growl of anger he waved his hand. “Follow the thieves!” he cried. “Men-at-arms! Courtiers! Servants! Gentlemen-in-waiting! Catch them at once! Half my kingdom for the man who brings me the heads of the scoundrels and returns to me my daughter!” Before a single breath could be drawn, a whole army of his subjects had rushed away after the escaping three. And then who do you suppose came stumbling into the throne-room, making a great outcry and waving his arms wildly? None other than Grump! “Master!—Your Majesty!” he panted. “She tipped over the pot of magic, and she escaped! She has gone to Fairyland! What shall we do? What shall we do?” The Wicked King was at the end of his patience. “_I_ have not lost all of _my_ magic yet,” he thundered. “You are a pretty sort of a servant! You’re an idiot! A useless, slow, dull idiot! You’re a _snail!_” Then an idea struck him. “_Be_ a snail!” he commanded. And Grump shrivelled up and turned into a snail, and crawled away into a crack in the Palace wall. And that was the end of _him!_ Then a messenger came flying to the Wicked King, and cried: “Oh, Master! They have run the thieves into a corner under the city wall, and soon they will be caught and beheaded!” “I should like the pleasure of doing it myself!” said the Wicked King, grimly. “Have them left alive until I get there!” And he stalked out of the Palace, and followed the messenger through the streets of the Red City. Finally he came upon a great crowd of his subjects, and beyond them, standing against the wall, were Bab and Dick and the Princess, frightened almost to death! “Ah!” said the Wicked King, with a cruel smile. “Now I have you, you impudent creatures! You upstarts from the Real World! Now I will cut off your heads with my own hands!” And he drew his sword. [Illustration] XV _By the City Wall_ [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XV _By the City Wall_ The three escaping friends did not know what to do. Bab had used up all her sand, and there seemed no way left to overcome their enemies. Meanwhile the crowd in front of them were snarling threats and mocking words. “I will be the one to kill them!” cried one. “No,—I!” exclaimed another. “I—I—I!” shouted everybody at once. “Hush!” said someone, sharply. “The King himself is coming!” And everyone became silent. They were all deeply disappointed, for they knew that now the Wicked King would insist on killing the children himself, and none of them would stand a chance of getting that promised half of his kingdom. Suddenly an idea came to Bab. “Dick,” she whispered, “we must try to get the Wicked King to put us in prison or something like that!”