He wondered how long he had been bearing this torture and when it would end. While he sat there thinking, all of a sudden the globe which he had just left, raised itself, something below rustled and the globe struck itself against the vessel with a deafening clang. The great vessel trembled and resounded with a terrible noise, so that Tom almost fell from his seat. He perceived that this was a new kind of torture, worse even than the first. His arms and legs shook with the vibration, his spine prickled and his head began to whirl. Again the globe beat against the vessel, and again. The clock was sounding three quarters of the hour.
After this, everything became quiet and Little Tom heaved a sigh of relief. On the great bell he sat very sadly. He would have returned into the machinery below him, for the whole world, as he thought a crowd of witches and spirits were storming there and waiting to tear him to pieces if he should utter a single sound. But he could see no other way out, for around him was nothing but darkness and gloom. He hoped that when the torture should stop, the castle would open and the great griffin would appear to carry him safely back to earth. He wondered what sort of a princess she would be whom he would save and whether she would be as beautiful as his own mother had been.
In this way, another quarter of an hour passed; but to Tom, sitting there in the darkness, it seemed like an eternity. Again, the machinery began to whir and the castle shook. The globe beat into the bell as if it were crazy. Little Tom was stiff with fright as he shook and trembled under the powerful blows.
Suddenly, the little doors in front of him flew open, letting the light of day into the castle; and he saw the great cuckoo, which he at once took for the griffin. The bird ran out a little way from the roof and called »Cuckoo, cuckoo«.
Tom sprang from the bell to the bird and cried out victoriously. He thought that his torture was at an end and that he had broken the spell of the enchanted castle. Now, he wanted to find the princess he had set free. But, suddenly, the doors closed with a bang, catching Tom between them and squeezing him so hard that he nearly lost his breath. He was terribly afraid, fearing lest he had cried out too soon and spoiled the rescue and now would be torn to pieces by the spectres.
He struggled in vain to tear himself loose. Below him, the clock was moaning and groaning; and, far down, he looked into the depths of the chasm. Already, he bade farewell to the world and started shouting at the top of his lungs.
At this moment, his Godmother came in from the field and, hearing the clock rattling, she wondered what could be the matter with it, that it should make such a noise. Looking at the partly closed doors, she perceived that something was caught between them. Stepping up on a chair, she saw Little Tom struggling and crying for help. She released him at once and carried him safely down. He told her what had happened saying that he wanted to rescue the princess in the enchanted castle, but had spoiled the rescue by crying out too soon.
This time, the Godmother did not laugh at him. She was afraid that he had been hurt and was very sorry that her stories had brought him into such danger. For a long time, Tom could not believe that he had been mistaken and that in the clock there were no spectres. She raised him up to the dial plate, showed him the painted roses and the numbers, explaining all about them and showing how the little hands worked all by themselves, day and night, to tell how the time was passing. He became very much encouraged, as he began to understand. Then he sat astride the long hand as if he were on a horse and liked it so much, that the Godmother had to warn him not to slide down and kill himself.