The Tale of Despereaux Read Online Free PDF

tail, through the darkness, there were only two words in his mind. One was “perfidy.” And the other word that he clung to was “Pea.”
    Perfidy. Pea. Perfidy. Pea. These were the words that pinwheeled through Despereaux’s mind as his body descended into the darkness.

DESPEREAUX LAY ON HIS BACK at the bottom of the steps and touched the bones in his body one by one. They were all there. And, amazingly, they were unbroken. He got to his feet and became aware of a terrible, foul, extremely insulting smell.
    The dungeon, reader, stank. It stank of despair and suffering and hopelessness. Which is to say that the dungeon smelled of rats.
    And it was so dark. Despereaux had never before encountered darkness so awful, so all-encompassing. The darkness had a physical presence as if it were a being all its own. The mouse held one small paw up in front of his whiskers. He could not see it, and he had the truly alarming thought that perhaps he, Despereaux Tilling, did not even exist.
    “Oh my!” he said out loud.
    His voice echoed in the smelly darkness.
    “Perfidy,” said Despereaux, just to hear his voice again, just to assure himself that he did exist.
    “Pea,” said Despereaux, and the name of his beloved was immediately swallowed up by the darkness.
    He shivered. He shook. He sneezed. His teeth chattered. He longed for his handkerchief. He grabbed hold of his tail (it took him a long, frightening moment to even locate his tail, so absolute was the darkness) to have something, anything, to hold on to. He considered fainting. He deemed it the only reasonable response to the situation in which he found himself, but then he remembered the words of the threadmaster: honor, courtesy, devotion, and bravery.
    “I will be brave,” thought Despereaux. “I will try to be brave like a knight in shining armor. I will be brave for the Princess Pea.”
    How best for him to be brave?
    He cleared his throat. He let go of his tail. He stood up straighter. “Once upon a time,” he said out loud to the darkness. He said these words because they were the best, the most powerful words that he knew and just the saying of them comforted him.
    “Once upon a time,” he said again, feeling a tiny bit braver. “There was a knight and he wore, always, an armor of shining silver.”
    “Once upon a time?” boomed a voice from the darkness. “A knight in shining armor? What does a mouse know of such things?”
    That voice, the loudest voice that Despereaux had ever heard, could only, he assumed, belong to the world’s largest rat.
    Despereaux’s small, overworked heart stopped beating.
    And for the second time that day, the mouse fainted.

WHEN DESPEREAUX AWOKE, he was cupped in the large, callused hand of a human and he was staring into the fire of one match and beyond the match there was a large, dark eye looking directly at him.
    “A mouse with red thread,” boomed the voice. “Oh, yes, Gregory knows the way of mice and rats. Gregory knows. And Gregory has his own thread, marking him. See here, mouse.” And the match was held to a candle and the candle sputtered to life and Despereaux saw that there was a rope tied around the man’s ankle. “Here is the difference between us: Gregory’s rope saves him. And your thread will be the death of you.” The man blew the candle out and the darkness descended and the man’s hand closed more tightly around Despereaux and Despereaux felt his beleaguered heart start up a crazy rhythm of fear.
    “Who are you?” he whispered.
    “The answer to that question, mouse, is Gregory. You are talking to Gregory the jailer, who has been buried here, keeping watch over this dungeon for decades, for centuries, for eons. For eternities. You are talking to Gregory the jailer, who, in the richest of ironies, is nothing but a prisoner here himself.”
    “Oh,” said Despereaux. “Um, may I get down, Gregory?”
    “The mouse wants to know if Gregory the jailer will let him go. Listen to Gregory,