hey watched the battle in growing
dismay, the leaders of the enemy saw the maid and her motions, and,
concluding her an enchantress, whose were the airy legions humiliating
them, set spurs to their horses, made a circuit, outflanked the king,
and came down upon her. But suddenly by her side stood a stalwart old
man in the garb of a miner, who, as the general rode at her, sword in
hand, heaved his swift mattock, and brought it down with such force on
the forehead of his charger, that he fell to the ground like a log.
His rider shot over his head and lay stunned. Had not the great red
horse reared and wheeled, he would have fallen beneath that of the
general.

With lifted sabre, one of his attendant officers rode at the miner. But
a mass of pigeons darted in the faces of him and his horse, and the
next moment he lay beside his commander.

The rest of them turned and fled, pursued by the birds.

'Ah, friend Peter!' said the maid; 'thou hast come as I told thee!
Welcome and thanks!'

By this time the battle was over. The rout was general. The enemy
stormed back upon their own camp, with the beasts roaring in the midst
of them, and the king and his army, now reinforced by one, pursuing.
But presently the king drew rein.

'Call off your hounds, Curdie, and let the pigeons do the rest,' he
shouted, and turned to see what had become of the princess.

In full panic fled the invaders, sweeping down their tents, stumbling
over their baggage, trampling on their dead and wounded, ceaselessly
pursued and buffeted by the white-winged army of heaven. Homeward they
rushed the road they had come, straight for the borders, many dropping
from pure fatigue, and lying where they fell. And still the pigeons
were in their necks as they ran. At length to the eyes of the king and
his army nothing was visible save a dust cloud below, and a bird cloud
above. Before night the bird cloud came back, flying high over
Gwyntystorm. Sinking swiftly, it disappeared among the ancient roofs
of the palace.

CHAPTER 34

Judgement

The king and his army returned, bringing with them one prisoner only,
the lord chancellor. Curdie had dragged him from under a fallen tent,
not by the hand of a man, but by the foot of a mule.

When they entered the city, it was still as the grave. The citizens
had fled home. 'We must submit,' they cried, 'or the king and his
demons will destroy us.' The king rode through the streets in silence,
ill-pl