PART 1
12. CHAPTER TWELVE
(continued)
"A stunning blow from the big Greek lexicon, which an old
fellow in a black gown fired at him," said Ned. "Instantly, Sir
What's-his-name recovered himself, pitched the tyrant out of the
window, and turned to join the lady, victorious, but with a bump
on his brow, found the door locked, tore up the curtains, made a
rope ladder, got halfway down when the ladder broke, and he went
headfirst into the moat, sixty feet below. Could swim like a
duck, paddled round the castle till he came to a little door
guarded by two stout fellows, knocked their heads together till
they cracked like a couple of nuts, then, by a trifling exertion
of his prodigious strength, he smashed in the door, went up a
pair of stone steps covered with dust a foot thick, toads as big
as your fist, and spiders that would frighten you into hysterics,
MIss March. At the top of these steps he came plump upon a sight
that took his breath away and chilled his blood..."
"A tall figure, all in white with a veil over its face and a
lamp in its wasted hand," went on Meg. "It beckoned, gliding
noiselessly before him down a corridor as dark and cold as any
tomb. Shadowy effigies in armor stood on either side, a dead
silence reigned, the lamp burned blue, and the ghostly figure ever
and anon turned its face toward him, showing the glitter of awful
eyes through its white veil. They reached a curtained door, behind
which sounded lovely music. He sprang forward to enter, but the
specter plucked him back, and waved threateningly before him a..."
"Snuffbox," said Jo, in a sepulchral tone, which convulsed the
audience. "`Thankee, ' said the knight politely, as he took a pinch
and sneezed seven times so violently that his head fell off. `Ha!
Ha!' laughed the ghost, and having peeped through the keyhole at the
princesses spinning away for dear life, the evil spirit picked up
her victim and put him in a large tin box, where there were eleven
other knights packed together without their heads, like sardines,
who all rose and began to..."
"Dance a hornpipe," cut in Fred, as Jo paused for breath, "and,
as they danced, the rubbishy old castle turned to a man-of-war in
full sail. `Up with the jib, reef the tops'l halliards, helm hard
alee, and man the guns!' roared the captain, as a Portuguese pirate
hove in sight, with a flag black as ink flying from her foremast.
`Go in and win, my hearties!' says the captain, and a tremendous
fight began. Of course the British beat, they always do."
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