"I've
heard of the new law, and I'll stop the melon-vine."
"Let him pass, guards," shouted the king; "and send him hither."
A little page dressed in black led Jim to the throne-room. The king
and his court no longer blazed in gold and jewels. Black covered
everybody and everything, even the golden throne itself, and grief and
dismay were on all faces.
Then said the king, in a hollow tone: "What know you of this vine?
Speak!"
And Jim, tremblingly, told the whole story.
"Wicked boy!" groaned the king. "You well deserve punishment for the
ruin you have brought on the land. But I have passed my royal word,
and you shall try to destroy the vine. If you succeed, bad as you are,
you then will be the king and I the cobbler. But if you fail, you
shall be put where you shall have nothing but melons to eat for the
rest of your days. Guards, take him away!"
That night, before the king and queen and all the assembled court,
when the moon was fairly risen, Nimble Jim touched with the toe of the
magic shoe the end of a tendril that was running rapidly up a tower.
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