Harold was very weary when he returned to the cottage that evening; and he was still more weary before he tumbled into bed. For in the mean time he had to learn his school lessons for the following day, and tell the other boys all about his adventures. He slept like a top; quite like a top,--for sometimes during the night there came from his little room beyond the kitchen a sound like a humming top.

It was about midnight when Harold was awakened by a peculiar noise. It was a queer, clicking, tapping noise that seemed to come from the kitchen close by. Harold sat up in bed and listened. Some one was certainly moving about in the kitchen. It was probably his mother, he thought. And yet, what could his mother be doing there at that time of night? Stealthy steps crossed the kitchen; just then Harold sneezed,--he could not help it. There was silence.

Presently he heard a noise in the pantry, which was next his own little room. Harold rose and crept noiselessly out of his chamber. Yes, there was someone in the pantry. The door was open,--something not allowed in his mother's kitchen rule. An uncertain light flickered behind the pantry door. Harold could not see plainly, but there certainly was some one meddling with the dishes on the shelves. Suddenly a silhouette came between Harold and the light, and he saw the shape of the intruder. It seemed to be a very tall old woman in bonnet and shawl, and her great hand was carrying something from the pantry shelf to the mouth within the bonnet.

Harold felt himself growing very angry. Who was this stranger who dared to force a way into their cottage and eat up the hard-earned victuals which his mother had painfully prepared? Such doings were rare indeed in Kisington. It was a wicked thief, a robber, a house-breaker! Even though it was a woman, she must be punished.

There was a key in the lock outside the pantry door. Quick as a flash Harold made a leap for it, and turned it in the lock. At the same time he shouted to his mother who slept in the room upstairs,--"Quick! Quick, Mother! There is an old woman in the pantry eating up the food! I have caught her at it!"

In a few minutes his mother's feet came pattering down the stairs. But in the mean time what a hubbub was going on in the pantry! Evidently the thief had no mind to be discovered and taken in her criminal act. There was the sound of overturned boxes and barrels, the crash of crockery and glass. The thief was smashing the pantry window!

"Open the door, Harold!" screamed his mother. "She is climbing out the window!"

It did not seem possible that the thief could do this, it was such a tiny window. But, sure enough! when the door was opened, and Harold and his mother crowded into the pantry, they were but just in time to seize the hem of the old woman's shawl, as her last leg squeezed through the casement. Harold held on to the shawl tightly, however, and off it came in his hands. It was a very nice shawl.

"Who ever heard of a thief in Kisington!" exclaimed the mother. "Who could it be? I never saw a shawl like this. Let us examine what she has taken, the wicked old creature!"

Harold got a candle, and presently returned to the pantry, where his mother was groping among the smashed crockery for some other clue to the thief. When the light flickered on the pantry shelves the mother gave a scream of surprise and anger. "My six beautiful pies!" she exclaimed. "The thief has stolen my six beautiful apple pies! Oh, what a wicked old soul!"

"Those lovely pies!" groaned Harold. "See, Mother, she has gobbled one and left the empty plate. The others she has taken away with her."

"I wish they may choke her!" cried the mother angrily. "Now you will have none to take to your Red King to-morrow. I was going to save the finest of all for him, in the hope that it would soften his hard heart."

"It will never soften his heart nor please his stomach now, Mother," said Harold ruefully. "And still more I regret the other five pies which I know you meant for me. When shall we ever see such pies again?"

"They were made from the last of the flour and apples and sugar sent you in gratitude by the Leading Citizens," said Harold's mother sadly. "I am sorry your reward is thus wasted, my poor boy! What spiteful neighbor could have spied them through the pantry window and planned this midnight raid at our expense?"

Harold shook his head mournfully. "I do not know any one in Kisington whom I could suspect," he said. "Come, Mother, let us go back to bed. To-morrow we will look further into the matter. We have at least this handsome shawl as one clue, which if it does not find us the thief will be very nice for you to wear."

They went to bed again, and slept until morning.

Now in the morning before school Harold took the shawl and went to his friend the Librarian and told him what had happened during the night. The Librarian was greatly shocked to hear of a theft in town and went with Harold straight to the Lord Mayor.

The Mayor examined the shawl carefully and shook his head. "This is very strange!" he said. "This is no shawl made in Kisington, or in our Kingdom. It is a strange foreign shawl, and very valuable. I am glad to believe that the thief must have been a foreigner, or a gypsy, or a vagrant of some sort. But how did she find her way into our guarded city? I must look into this! Meanwhile, my lad, since you have suffered loss and damage to your pantry and to your feelings the Leading Citizens will see that you are made whole at their expense; I will answer for their gratitude to you."

"My Lord," said the Librarian, patting Harold affectionately on the head, "our boy has done so well already in handling this savage King, may we not expect still more from him now that the time is so critical? King Victor should soon be coming to our aid. If we can but postpone the siege for at least another day! Suppose Harold should invite Red Rex, under a flag of truce, to visit and inspect our Library?"

"Good!" cried the Mayor. "When you go to Red Rex this afternoon, Harold, my boy, see what you can do further in the matter."

"I will try, my Lord Mayor," said Harold. "But Red Rex is growing very impatient. I fear that I cannot much longer keep him amused with our tales."

"Clever lad! You have already done right well," said the Librarian, embracing Harold proudly. "And I dare say you will be able to do yet more. Now, run along to school; for we must not forget our everyday duties, even in these times of excitement and danger."

So Harold went to school, and you can imagine how many questions he had to answer at recess time. The Librarian went to his books and the Lord Mayor to his desk. And Harold's mother went down on her knees, cleaning up the wrecked pantry.

But where was the strange old woman all this time?