He answered his mother insolently:
"I don't want to go with you. I only want to be left alone."
His mother turned away, and, without another word, left the room.
The cat came in, went up to him purring, and rubbed herself against him. He gave her such a blow that she flew out again, in angry fright, with her back high above her head. And the rain rained faster, and the wind began to blow, and the misery settled down upon his soul like lead. At last he wept with his face on the floor, quite overmastered by the most contemptible of all passions—self-pity.
Again the voice of his mother came to him. The wizard had in the meantime come to see her, and had just left her.
"Get up, my boy," she said, in a more commanding tone than he had ever heard from her before.
With her words the vision returned upon him, clear, and plain, and strong. He started in terror, almost expecting to hear the chains rattle about him.
"Get up, and make the room tidy. See how you have thrown the books about!" said his mother.
He dared not disobey her. He sprung to his feet, and as he reduced the little chaos around him to order, first calmness descended, and then shame arose. As he fulfilled her word, his mother stood and looked on. The moment he had finished, he ran to her, threw his arms about her neck, burst into honest, worthy tears, and cried:
"Mother!"