"Oh!" he exclaimed in a whisper. "Oh, gee, all my friends!" Oh, yes, the people in stories did live on and on, just as Father Pat had said; were immortal because they lived in the minds of all who loved them!
His eyes were shut. But he smiled at the group about him. "He didn't hurt y'!" he said happily—but whispering as before, lest he disturb Cis. "Say! He didn't hurt y' a teeny-weeny bit!"
Pressing eagerly round him, smiling back at him fondly, those book people whom he loved best replied proudly: "Course he didn't! Shucks! We don't bother 'bout him!"
"Oh, fine! Fine!" answered Johnnie.
Next, he understood in a flash why it was that Father Pat could feel so satisfied about Edith Cavell. That general (whose name was like a hiss) could shoot down a brave woman, and hide her body away in the ground, but he could not destroy her! No! not with all his power of men and guns! She would live on and on, just as these dear ones of his lived on! And the fact was, her executioner had only helped in making her live!
Yes, and here she was, right now, standing in white beside scarlet-clad Galahad! In the darkness her nurse's dress glimmered. "I'm better 'cause I know you," Johnnie said to her. His tied right hand closed as if on the hand of another, and he bent his head on the oilcloth, as if before a Figure. "Oh, thank y' for comin'!"
Then came another wonderful thought: what difference did it make—really—whether he was on his back on his square of old mattress, or here on his face across the table if he wished to think some splendid adventure with all these friends? "Not a bit o' difference!" he declared. "Not a bit!" Big Tom had been able to tie fast his feet and hands; but in spite of that Johnnie could go wherever he pleased!
His wound-darkened, tear-stained face lit with that old, radiant smile. "Big Tom can't tie my thinks!" he boasted. He was out of his body now, and up on his feet, looking into the faces of all those book friends. "So let's take a ship—your ship, Jim Hawkins! Ye-e-eh, let's take the Hispaniola, and sail, and sail! Where? The 'Cific Ocean? 'R t' Cathay? 'R where?" Then he knew! "Say! we'll take a 'stronomy trip!" he announced.
In one swift moment how gloriously arranged it all was! Halfway across the kitchen floor, here were wonderful marble steps—steps guarded on either side by a stone lion! The steps led up to a terrace that was rather startlingly like Father Pat's description of the terrace below the great New York Public Library; yet it was not the Library terrace, since there was no building at the farther side of it. No, this wide, granite-floored space was nothing less than a grand wharf.
Up to it Johnnie bounded in his brown shoes—and a new think-uniform fully as handsome as the one Big Tom had thrust into the stove. On the step next to the top one, some one was waiting—a person dressed in work-clothes, with big, soiled hands, and an unshaven face. This individual seemed to know that he was out of place and looking his worst, for his manner was apologetic, and downcast. He implored Johnnie with sad eyes.