There was a dead silence for about half a minute, during which the
falling of a leaf, or of a feather, might have been heard. It was
interrupted by a low, but harsh and protracted grating sound which
seemed to come at once from every corner of the room.
"What- what- what are you making that noise for?" demanded the king,
turning furiously to the dwarf.
The latter seemed to have recovered, in great measure, from his
intoxication, and looking fixedly but quietly into the tyrant's
face, merely ejaculated:
"I- I? How could it have been me?"
"The sound appeared to come from without," observed one of the
courtiers. "I fancy it was the parrot at the window, whetting his bill
upon his cage-wires."
"True," replied the monarch, as if much relieved by the
suggestion; "but, on the honor of a knight, I could have sworn that it
was the gritting of this vagabond's teeth."
Hereupon the dwarf laughed (the king was too confirmed a joker to
object to any one's laughing), and displayed a set of large, powerful,
and very repulsive teeth. Moreover, he avowed his perfect
willingness to swallow as much wine as desired. The monarch was
pacified; and having drained another bumper with no very perceptible
ill effect, Hop-Frog entered at once, and with spirit, into the
plans for the masquerade.
"I cannot tell what was the association of idea," observed he,
very tranquilly, and as if he had never tasted wine in his life,
"but just after your majesty, had struck the girl and thrown the
wine in her face- just after your majesty had done this, and while the
parrot was making that odd noise outside the window, there came into
my mind a capital diversion- one of my own country frolics- often
enacted among us, at our masquerades: but here it will be new
altogether.
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