"Up!" he cried to his fellow-devotees. "The evil son has returned. Up, all of you, and defend the temple!"
The others were all thoroughly aroused. They turned their eyes toward the temple and perceived the giant standing at the very door!
They sprang toward him with great fury. They quickly surrounded him. It seemed that he must really perish before their wrath. And then—then what happened?
Everychild could not stand idle and see his friend perish. He bethought him of the sword the Masked Lady had given him. He drew the sword quickly and with a loud cry he dashed toward the temple steps.
He gained the side of the giant; and then—what is this? The devotees all turned to cowering wretches! They put forth their elbows to ward off imaginary blows. They slunk back like base cowards.
They had seen the sword in Everychild's hand, and they had recognized it!
Moreover, before the gleam of that sword the temple door swung open.
The giant dashed into the temple to greet his mother. He became for an instant invisible. The devotees were now slinking back to a safe distance. Everychild, without ever lowering his sword, smote them all with his glance of scorn.
And then the giant reappeared. But oh, what a change had taken place in him! He held his hands aloft in an agony of despair. He staggered down the temple steps, followed by the wondering Everychild.
"What is it?" asked Everychild in distress. "What ails you?"