Neither could he observe Dragonfel nor any of his followers, for when they had become assured of safety these cravens had fled, leaving the Brownies to do all the work.
Florimel ran hither and thither, searching among the ruins for those he was so eager to find, and calling aloud their names, but there was no response to his cries, nor could he discover the slightest trace of them anywhere, which alarmed him greatly.
The Brownies were taking a much needed rest, but he got them all to join in the quest, and they hunted in every nook and corner thereabout without success.
"This is indeed strange," said King Stanislaus, very much puzzled. "They were here just a little while ago, for I saw them myself. I didn't pay any particular attention to them at the time, for the volcano was keeping me pretty busy."
"They have made their escape," said Florimel, "and have again carried off the queen and her companions. The question is, where have they gone?"
"I do not think they have gone far," said the king, and his eye swept the harbor where the galleon was plainly visible. "Perhaps they are on the ship, but I very much doubt it. It may be they are hiding somewhere near."
Suddenly the Policeman who was still prowling stealthily around poked his club in a dark, out-of-the-way corner into something flabby which at once emitted a queer, cackling shriek so uncanny that everyone jumped back in fright.
The next moment he quickly reached in his arm and drew out by the ear the quaking, shaking Demon Usher who had no opportunity to practice his eccentric locomotion, but was obliged to crawl after his captor on his hands and knees.
The Policeman led him by the ear to King Stanislaus who eyed him sternly.
"Mercy, have mercy!" shrieked the Demon Usher, in abject terror, and he shook as though he had the dumb ague, chills and fever, and something else besides. "Oh, kind sir, I will be your slave for life, and obey your slightest wish. Only don't kill or torture me, I beg you!"
"Tell the truth, or it will be the worse for you," said King Stanislaus.
His words in no sense were a threat, for it is always the worse for anyone who does not tell the truth. But they only served to increase the fears of the poor, frightened wretch who shook as if he had added St. Vitus dance to all his other symptoms.