Then the lilies of the nightgown flickered and flamed up; and the
Archivarius caught these lilies blazing in sparky fire and dashed them
on the witch; she howled for agony, but still as she leapt aloft and
shook her harness of parchment the lilies went out and fell away into
ashes.
"To her, my lad!" creaked the crone; then the black Cat darted through
the air, and plunged over the Archivarius' head toward the door; but
the gray Parrot fluttered out against him and caught him with his
crooked bill by the nape, till red fiery blood burst down over his
neck; and Serpentina's voice cried: "Saved! Saved!" Then the crone,
foaming with rage and desperation, darted out upon the Archivarius;
she threw the Golden Pot behind her, and holding up the long talons of
her skinny fists, was for clutching the Archivarius by the throat; but
he instantly doffed his nightgown, and hurled it against her. Then,
hissing, and sputtering, and bursting, shot blue flames from the
parchment leaves, and the crone rolled round in howling agony, and
strove to get fresh earth from the Pot, fresh parchment leaves from
the books, that she might stifle the blazing flames; and whenever any
earth or leaves came down on her the flames went out. But now, as
if coming from the interior of the Archivarius, there issued fiery
crackling beams, and darted on the crone.
"Hey, hey! To it again! Salamander! Victory!" clanged the Archivarius'
voice through the chamber; and a hundred bolts whirled forth in fiery
circles round the shrieking crone.
Pages:
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568