He was afraid that if he told the truth his companions would think him a coward for not fighting the demon.
'What a pity!' cried the Prince, 'but we must just cook some more. Here! you Blacksmith! do you prepare the dinner, while the Carpenter and I have another look at the city.'
Now, no sooner had the Blacksmith begun to sniff the savoury smell, and think how nice the cakes and stew would taste, than the little warrior appeared to him also. And he was quite as brave at first as the Knifegrinder had been, and afterwards he too fell on his knees and prayed for mercy. In fact everything happened to him as it had happened to the Knifegrinder, and when he fell from the tree he too fled into the sleeping-room, and rolling himself in his quilt began to shiver and shake; so that when Prince Lionheart and the Carpenter came back, hungry as hunters, there was no dinner.
Then the Carpenter stayed behind to cook, but he fared no better than the two others, so that when hungry Prince Lionheart returned there were three sick men, shivering and shaking under their quilts, and no dinner. Whereupon the Prince set to work to cook his food himself.
No sooner had it begun to give off a savoury smell than the tiny mouse-warrior appeared, very fierce and valiant.
'Upon my word, you are really a very pretty little fellow!' said the Prince in a patronising way: ‘and what may you want!'
'Give me my dinner!' shricked the mannikin.
'It is not your dinner, my dear sir, it is my
