This settled matters.
“Let’s cut,” said Cupid, impatiently, “or we shall be too late.”
A great row was going on among the gods. Goodness knows what it was about—nobody ever did know that! Venus and Juno were scratching one another’s faces; Jupiter was shaking his fist and thundering all round; the other men were arguing in high Greek, and the other ladies were screaming at the top of their voices.
“They’re at it again,” said Cupid, making a wry face. “That sort of thing goes on here from morning to night. We shan’t be missed. Come on, you fellows!”
Down they went at a great pace, Cupid (who was much less encumbered with clothes than the other two) showing a lead. Presently they lost sight of the top, and through the clouds below caught a distant glimpse of the black lake.
“Can’t we take a short cut down there?” asked Joe.
“Not good enough,” said Cupid. “That’s where Charon hangs out; and he and I don’t hit it off. No, we’d better go down to where you went asleep, and then trot down by the track to Llanberis. I know the way—come on.”
They followed, wondering at the pace at which they went. In scarce five minutes from the top they stood on the spot where they had first halted hours and hours ago.
There a remarkable thing happened.
Cupid, who had all along seemed the most eager of the three to escape into the valley, suddenly halted, spread his little wings, and with a merry laugh began to fly upwards.