he door in my
sitting-room which leads into the witches' sitting-room, and that opens
into the main hall. There is generally one witch stationed in their
sitting-room to keep watch over me. They still hope to get my chest of
gold, you see, and that is why I am kept a prisoner here."

Daimur drew his sword and announced his intention of trying to get out
to the main hall if Queen Amy was willing to go with him, to which she
replied that she would indeed take any risk to get out of that dungeon
and back to her dear people.

She turned at once and led the way bade through her apartment to the
door which was to decide their fortunes. It was a swinging door, and
Daimur pushed it open and looked in. What he saw was a great bare room
with cupboards all around it, and a few plain old kitchen rockers here
and there. A number of the cupboard doors were open and there could be
seen on the shelves dozens of bottles, boxes, tins and pots, while over
the fire in a large black pot some vile-smelling mixture was cooking.

Beside the fire on a mat, lay the old witch's black cat, apparently
asleep. There was no one in the room.

"Now is your chance," whispered Daimur, and sword in hand he went
softly across the floor, closely followed by Queen Amy.

As they passed the cat he opened one of his green eyes and looked at
them, but they did not notice him. As soon as they were out of the
room and into the hall he sat up on the mat and began to yowl in a most
blood-curdling manner.

"We are lost," said the Queen, wringing her hands. "Listen to that
cat. We must have awakened him. He is calling the Old Witch I am
sure."

"Run," said Daimur, and seizing Queen Amy by the hand he almost dragged
her along the wide hall towards the staircase. But they were too late.

Down the stairs came the Old Witch, followed by her daughter and the
other witch from Shells.

At the sight of Daimur with his sword drawn and the terrified Queen Amy
shrinking at his side the Old Witch gave a howl of rage and said
something quickly to the others.

Instantly three great tigers were bounding towards them, their teeth
showing in a dreadful manner, and their deep growls filling the whole
hall.

Thrusting Queen Amy behind him Daimur clutched his sword in despair and
set his teeth with a determination to kill them all if possible--when
suddenly he thought of the tiny silver bugle which he had had around
his neck all the time.

Raising it quickly to