“Oof!” gasped the Dog, when the door was shut at last. “I have strong teeth, goodness knows; but chaps like those I never saw before! When you bite them, you’d think their legs were made of cotton!”
By this time, Tyltyl was making for the second door and asking:
“What’s behind this one?”
Night made a gesture as though to put him off. Did the obstinate little fellow really want to see everything?
“Must I be careful when I open it?” asked Tyltyl.
“No,” said Night, “it is not worth while. It’s the Sicknesses. They are very quiet, the poor little things! Man, for some time, has been waging such war upon them! … Open and see for yourself. …”
Tyltyl threw the door wide open and stood speechless with astonishment: there was nothing to be seen. …
He was just about to close the door again, when he was hustled aside by a little body in a dressing-gown and a cotton nightcap, who began to frisk about the hall, wagging her head and stopping every minute to cough, sneeze and blow her nose … and to pull on her slippers, which were too big for her and kept dropping off her feet. Sugar, Bread and Tyltyl were no longer frightened and began to laugh like anything. But they had no sooner come near the little person in the cotton nightcap than they themselves began to cough and sneeze.
“It’s the least important of the Sicknesses,” said Night. “It’s Cold-in-the-Head.”
“Oh, dear, oh, dear!” thought Sugar. “If my nose keeps on running like this, I’m done for: I shall melt!”
Poor Sugar! He did not know where to hide himself. He had become very much attached to life since the journey began, for he had fallen over head and ears in love with Water! And yet this love caused him the greatest worry. Miss Water was a tremendous flirt, expected a lot of attention and was not particular with whom she mixed; but mixing too much with Water was an expensive luxury, as poor Sugar found to his cost; for, at every kiss he gave her, he left a bit of himself behind, until he began to tremble for his life.
When he suddenly found himself attacked by Cold-in-the-Head, he would have had to fly from the palace, but for the timely aid of our dear Tylô, who ran after the little minx and drove her back to her cavern, amidst the laughter of Tyltyl and Mytyl, who thought gleefully that, so far, the trial had not been very terrible.
The boy, therefore, ran to the next door with still greater courage.
“Take care!” cried Night, in a dreadful voice. “It’s the Wars! They are more powerful than ever! I daren’t think what would happen, if one of them broke loose! Stand ready, all of you, to push back the door!”
Night had not finished uttering her warnings, when the plucky little fellow repented his rashness. He tried in vain to shut the door which he had opened: an invincible force was pushing it from the other side, streams of blood flowed through the cracks; flames shot forth; shouts, oaths and groans mingled with the roar of cannon and the rattle of musketry. Everybody in the Palace of Night was running about in wild confusion. Bread and Sugar tried to take to flight, but could not find the way out; and they now came back to Tyltyl and put their shoulders to the door with despairing force.
The Cat pretended to be anxious, while secretly rejoicing:
“This may be the end of it,” she said, curling her whiskers. “They won’t dare to go on after this.”
Dear Tylô made superhuman efforts to help his little master, while Mytyl stood crying in a corner.
At last, our hero gave a shout of triumph:
“Hurrah! They’re giving way! Victory! Victory! The door is shut!”
At the same time, he dropped on the steps, utterly exhausted, dabbing his forehead with his poor little hands which shook with terror.
“Well?” asked Night, harshly. “Have you had enough? Did you see them?”
“Yes, yes!” replied the little fellow, sobbing. “They are hideous and awful. … I don’t think they have the Blue Bird. …”
“You may be sure they haven’t,” answered Night, angrily. “If they had, they would eat him at once. … You see there is nothing to be done. …”
Tyltyl drew himself up proudly:
“I must see everything,” he declared. “Light said so. …”
“It’s an easy thing to say,” retorted Night, “when one’s afraid and stays at home!”
“Let us go to the next door,” said Tyltyl, resolutely. “What’s in here?”
“This is where I keep the Shades and the Terrors!”
Tyltyl reflected for a minute:
“As far as Shades go,” he thought, “Mrs. Night is poking fun at me. It’s more than an hour since I’ve seen anything but shade in this house of hers; and I shall be very glad to see daylight again. As for the Terrors, if they are anything like the Ghosts, we shall have another good joke.”
Our friend went to the door and opened it, before his companions had time to protest. For that matter, they were all sitting on the floor, exhausted with the last fright; and they looked at one another in astonishment, glad to find themselves alive after such a scare. Meanwhile, Tyltyl threw back the door and nothing came out:
“There’s no one there!” he said.
“Yes, there is! Yes, there is! Look out!” said Night, who was still shamming fright.
She was simply furious. She had hoped to make a great impression with her Terrors; and, lo and behold, the wretches, who had so long been snubbed by Man, were afraid of him! She encouraged them with kind words and succeeded in coaxing out a few tall figures covered with grey veils. They began to run all around the hall until, hearing the Children laugh, they were seized with fear and rushed indoors again. The attempt had failed, as far as Night was concerned, and the dread hour was about to strike. Already, Tyltyl was moving towards the big door at the end of
