The little Imps, too, heard the sound. At first they were awed and hushed; then they began to fly about in confusion until Timothy was bewildered by the noise and movement.
Suddenly the curtain was parted, and Timothy saw a stately Lady seated upon a throne in a noble arched recess. Her head was thrown back, her eyes flashed, and in her hand she held a scourge every thong of which seemed to writhe and twist and end in little snappers of fire.
At the sight of this scourge and the frown on the Lady’s face, all the little Imps began to howl dismally. The Lady arose, and came down from her throne into the centre of the room, and the little Imps fled before her. But they could not escape. Seizing the first one she met, she plunged him several times into the basin of water. Then taking him out, she carried him kicking and quivering to the other basin, and plunged him into the fire. Timothy stood horror-stricken. He leaned against a pillar to support himself, but what was his astonishment to see the Lady take the little fellow out of the basin, and release him; and he ran away unharmed. But a strange thing had happened. The little Imp was no longer so black, and instead of grinning maliciously, he was now smiling as pleasantly as possible.
The Lady seized every little Imp in the room, in the same manner, and plunged him into both basins. Then she collected troops of the Imps, and drove them before her with the fiery scourge. She made them begin to scrape the dirt off the floor, and down from the walls, to repair the broken places in the roof, and to polish the rusty and musty spots. And all the rubbish she made them throw into the basin full of pure fire. Sometimes two or three little Imps would carry one of the great slimy reptiles, and drop him in, and all those thus dropped into the fire never came out again.
And as the little Imps worked, they broke into a song:—
“All the rubbish
Thither take!
Little whip
Will make us ache!
Tug! Tug!