But the villagers had now decided that the boy was their enemy, and no
sooner had he touched the ground than a shower of stones and sticks
rained about him. Not one reached his body, however, for the Garment
of Repulsion stopped their flight and returned them to rattle with
more or less force against those who had thrown them--"like regular
boomerangs," thought Rob.
To receive their own blows in this fashion seemed so like magic
to the simple folk that with roars of fear and pain they ran away
in all directions.
"It's no use stopping here," remarked Rob, regretfully, "for I've
spoiled my welcome by this accident. I think these people are Irish,
by their looks and speech, so I must be somewhere in the Emerald Isle."
He consulted his map and decided upon the general direction he should
take to reach England, after which he again rose into the air and
before long was passing over the channel towards the shores of England.
Either his map or compass or his calculations proved wrong, for it was
high noon before, having changed his direction a half dozen times, he
came to the great city of London.
Pages:
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99