'Ah!' thought the old Sword, 'here is the sorcerer; I might have guessed it long ago. The owner of the shop is the mightiest here; he may do with us what he will. And that hideous man intends to sell that heavenly woman! But he shall smart for it.'
The old Sword broke loose from the nail, and, flashing dreadfully with his blade, struck the shopkeeper's shoulder. No doubt the man would have been wounded had the blade been sharp.
'Dear me,' cried the shopman, rubbing the injured spot, 'such a heavy old fool! How did those knights in old times fight with such cudgels?'
All of a sudden there arose a stir in the house. Along the passages and staircases people were heard running to and fro, shouting 'Fire! fire!' The owner of the old curiosity shop and his customer were rushing up and down about the hall, not knowing what to do. At last one of them seized a pot of withered geranium, and the other his rubbers, and both hurried out. The White Lady stood near one of the windows with her usual quiet smile, whilst on the window-sill there sat a pretty little naked bronze boy. For many long years he had carried on his back a basket, into which a candlestick was to be put. Though the boy, as I have said, was only a child, he knew very well what 'fire' meant: he knew it from the time when the bronze of which he was formed was melted in a blast furnace. A deadly fear overspread his lovely face, and in a tender, tinkling voice he addressed his pretty neighbour: 'Pray ... oh pray ... throw me down into the street.... The fall can do me no harm, I know ... but the fire will melt me.... Do, I beseech you; you have only to raise your arm.'
But the White Beauty remained silent and motionless. She continued to smile in a most winning and most promising manner, but made no gesture, uttered no sound.
The old Sword also knew what 'fire' meant. How many times had he witnessed in old times the conflagration of whole cities taken by assault! He saw how unhappy citizens and desperate artisans fled from their homes; how women sobbed and lamented when they saw the ruins, and when their little ones were slaughtered or burnt. All this the old Sword now remembered, and his steel blade ached at the thought: 'What will happen to the White Lady?'
The old curiosity shop was situated on the third floor, and the window, near which stood the beautiful woman who charmed the Sword, was only a few feet distant from the neighbouring roof. The old Sword collected all his strength, swung on his nail, and flung himself through the window, placing his handle on the sill and his point on the cornice of the neighbouring house.
'Queen of my soul, hasten! Pass along, treading upon me, and you will be safe,' so he rang out in a trembling voice. The beauty smiled in her enigmatic, winning manner, but did not utter a word or make a motion. 'Make haste, I beseech you!' rang once more the anxious Sword. 'As soon as the fire reaches our hall my handle will be burnt, I shall fall down, and your escape will be impossible.'
But these words made on the lady as little impression as his previous ones: she remained motionless and dumb, but smiling in a bewitching manner. Suddenly several firemen hurried in and began to seize everything that their eyes fell upon, and to fling it through the windows without any distinction. First went the sardonic, goggle-eyed old man on the cane, and, without injury, tumbled headlong down. Then came the red-nosed old toper, smiling as usual, his wine-glass still in his hand; he dashed against a broken stool, and the canvas on which he was painted was torn to pieces. Scores of solid and fragile things followed.... One of the firemen seized the Sword and threw him into the courtyard below. The jagged fighter made several somersaults in the air, and plunging into the earth stood upright. A few moments he shivered and made a dull sound. But one thought overpowered him now: 'What would be the fate of his lady?' All of a sudden he noticed something white falling from the window, and ... recognised his goddess: it was she! The old Sword uttered a groan.
'Oh, why did she not speak? Why did she not avail herself of his devotion? Why did she answer all his entreaties only by an enigmatic smile? O Heavens, why?' At this very moment the White Lady fell down upon the pavement and broke in two, just where men have a heart....