was on my guard, although I hid my knowledge
under an indifferent mien. I secretly slipped my knife into my hand and
waited.

"Go over to the opposite side of the circle!" ordered Spite. I started
in a quiet walk.

"Run!" shouted Spite fiercely.

"Run, run!" echoed the whole crowd in chorus, no doubt thinking to
startle and confuse me by their sudden clamor.

I quickened my gait to a brisk trot, but kept my eyes aslant toward the
point where I saw young Hyptiotes waiting to cast the net. In a moment
the snare left his hands and flew toward me. I dodged low to the ground
and made a quick leap toward the narrow end of the snare, hoping thus to
escape the worse entanglement of the wide end. I was only partly
successful. In spite of my efforts I was caught in the narrow point of
the net and thrown by a sudden jerk to the earth.

The Pixies set up a roar of joy, which was lucky for me, because under
cover of their excitement I could use my knife unobserved. In a trice I
had freed my limbs and risen upon my knees; and under pretence of
struggling and swinging my arms, severed the trap line beyond the point
of the snare with a swift stroke. I was free, and getting to my feet
began quietly to brush the shreds of cobwebs from face and clothes.

The Pixie glee suddenly ceased. I heard the harsh voice of old Hyptiotes
roundly berating his son whom he blamed, or chose to appear to blame,
for the failure of his invention. I knew better, but kept my secret.
However, I glanced toward young Hyptiotes who never moved a muscle
during all the cursing and clamor that assailed him.[AT] Meanwhile I
slipped my knife beneath my belt and quietly awaited the will of my
captors.

"Take him back to prison," growled Spite; "We'll try him again
to-morrow."

"Aye, aye," said old Hyptiotes, "and I'll then spring the net myself,
and answer with my head that the miserable Brownie don't dodge out a
second time."

[Illustration: FIG. 99.--"Young Hyptiotes Never Moved a Muscle."]

I was led back to my cell, and my thoughts were not very agreeable, you
may be sure. But I resolved to at least try to escape before the morrow.
I knew my doom was sealed if I remained, and could be no worse were I
caught trying to flee. I had already planned a way of escape, and made
some preparations for it. I waited until nightfall, quietly opened my
trap door, crept over the roof, and softly stepped upon the ladder-like
lines of the maze which surrounds the priso