“Where’ll we go?” inquired Trot.

“We must make for the open country and hide in the Fog Bank or in the Arch of Phinis,” replied the boy.

They did not stop to argue any longer, but all three stepped out of the little door into the street, where they first clasped hands so they would not get separated in the dark, and then ran as swiftly as they could down the street, which was deserted at this hour by the citizens.  They could not go very fast because the sailorman’s wooden leg was awkward to run with and held them back, but Cap’n Bill hobbled quicker than he had ever hobbled before in all his life, and they really made pretty good progress.

They met no one on the streets and continued their flight until at last they came to the City Wall, which had a blue-iron gate in it.  Here was a Blueskin guard, who had been peacefully slumbering when aroused by the footsteps of the fugitives.  “Halt!” cried the guard fiercely.

Cap’n Bill halted long enough to grab the man around his long neck with one hand and around his long leg with the other hand.  Then he raised the Blueskin in the air and threw him far over the wall.  A moment later they had unfastened the gate and fled into the open country, where they headed toward the low mountain whose outlines were plainly visible in the moonlight.

The guard was now howling and crying for help.  In the city were answering shouts.  A hue and cry came from every direction, reaching as far as the palace.  Lights began to twinkle everywhere in the streets, and the Blue city hummed like a beehive filled with angry bees.  “It won’t do for us to get caught now,” panted Cap’n Bill as they ran along.  “I’m more afeared o’ them Blue citizens ner I am ’o the Blue Boolooroo.  They’d tear us to pieces if they could.”

Sky Island was not a very big place, especially the blue part of it, and our friends were now very close to the low mountain.  Presently they paused before a grim archway of blue marble, above which was carved the one word, “Phinis.”  The interior seemed dark and terrible as they stopped to regard it as a possible place of refuge.

“Don’t like that place, Cap’n,” whispered Trot.

“No more do I, mate,” he answered.

“I think I’d rather take a chance on the Fog Bank,” said Button-Bright.

Just then they were all startled by a swift flapping of wings, and a voice cried in shrill tones,

“Where are you, Trot? 
As like as not I’ve been forgot!”

Cap’n Bill jumped this way and Button-Bright that, and then there alighted on Trot’s shoulder the blue parrot that had been the pet of the Princess Cerulia.  Said the bird,

“Gee!  I’ve flown
Here all alone.
t’s pretty far,
But here we are!”

and then he barked like a dog and chuckled with glee at having found his little friend.