“Let the blue-bottle go, at once, whoever you are. You have no right to interfere with people’s habits. You have no right to be so arbitrary.”
The dragon-fly released Jack from its fangs, but still held him fast with its arms, and turned its head toward Maya. She was fearfully frightened by its large, grave eyes and vicious pincers, but the glittering of its body and wings fascinated her. They flashed like glass and water and precious stones. The horrifying thing was its huge size. How could she have been so bold? She was all a-tremble.
“Why, what’s the matter, child?” The dragon-fly’s tone, surprisingly, was quite friendly.
“Let him go,” cried Maya, and tears came into her eyes. “His name is Jack Christopher.”
The dragon-fly smiled.
“Why, little one?” it said, putting on an interested air, though most condescending.
Maya stammered helplessly:
“Oh, he’s such a nice, elegant gentleman, and he’s never done you any harm so far as I know.”
The dragon-fly regarded Jack Christopher contemplatively.
“Yes, he is a dear little fellow,” it replied tenderly and—bit Jack’s head off.