THE RESPECTABLE GENTLEMAN
In a little time the brave fellows were all on the march again, but the day was breaking by the time they arrived once more before the walls of Killgruel, all utterly tired, grumpy, and footsore. Bill strode up to the gates of the town, which, of course, at that time of the morning were still closed, and pulled the bell vigorously. He waited some time, and as there was no reply, he pulled the bell again, and then, after another interval, he rang it with all his force, but with no result whatever. He could now, however, hear a great muttering on the other side of the wall and considerable running to and fro, so he determined to wait patiently. At length the little wicket in the gate was opened and one of the Killgruellers looked out, and, recognising Bill and his comrades, hastily shut the wicket again after promising to fetch the Mayor.
Bill now waited a very long time before the wicket opened again, and in the meantime his poor comrades, nearly overcome with their fatigue and their hunger, had set up their camp before the walls and prepared their breakfast, after eating which not one of them was able to keep his eyes open a moment longer, and all fell fast asleep before their fires. Even the old King dozed off and snored peacefully in his tent, forgetting, for the first time in twenty-four hours, the sticks of liquorice, upon the enjoyment of which he had so much set his heart.
