I smiled as I recalled that gloomy day. We had been reading tales ofchivalry in the mausoleum. In a fit of nobility I led her outside as thethunder rolled, and I stood among the grave markers of unknownmortals--Dennis Colt, Remo Williams, John Gaunt--and swore to be herchampion if ever she needed one. She had kissed me then, and I had hoped forsome immediate evil circumstance against which to pit myself on her behalf.But none occurred.
We moved ahead, and she counted doors, halting at the seventh. "Thatone," she said, "leads through the curves to the place behind the lockedmirror in your room."
I released her hand and moved past her.
"All right," I said, "time to go a-guiseling," and I advanced. Theguisel saved me the trouble of testing the curves by emerging before I gotthere.
Ten or 12 feet in length, it was, and eyeless as near as I could tell,with rapid-beating cilia all over what I took to be its head. It was verypink, with a long, green stripe passing about its body in one direction, anda blue one in the other. It raised its cilia-end three or four feet abovethe ground and swayed. It made a squeaking sound. It turned in my direction.Underneath it had a large, angled mouth like that of a shark; it opened andclosed it several times and I saw many teeth. A green, venomous-seemingliquid dripped from that orifice to steam upon the ground.
I waited for it to come to me, and it did. I studied the way itmoved--quickly, as it turned out--on the horde of small legs. I held myblade before me in an _en garde_ position as I awaited its attack. Ireviewed my spells.
It came on, and I hit it with my Runaway Buick and my Blazing Outhouse