by Howard Pyle
David watched the Iron Man as he held the hook, and looked and looked at it, and tried to read it. He was holding it upside down, the poor giant, for he could not read a single word of it — that wonderful, wonderful book. Ever since that far beginning of time he has been trying to read it, and he is trying to read it still. But he cannot, for between him and it there hangs a veil that only the living soul can pierce to read those words within.
So there he sat now, the poor, blundering giant of smoking fire and hot iron — there he sat, patiently trying and trying to read what was there written, while his eyelids grew heavier and heavier, until by and by he fell asleep. After a while he began to snore, and after another while the book slipped from out his hand and fell to the floor, where it lay — the precious Know-All Book — face downward and forgotten.
Then after a while the old woman came to the chest where David lay hidden. “Now is your time,” said she, “if you are man enough to do what you came for.”
“I am man enough,” said David. “Thank you, mother.”
“Ah!” she said, “do not thank me yet, man of flesh and blood, for your trouble is not yet over. But there is the book, and there is the box. Take. them if you want them, and get you away if you can.”
The Iron Man never moved or stirred, but slept on and on as David picked up the hook and put it into the Wonder-Box, shut the lid, locked it, and took the key out of the lock, hanging the golden chain about his neck. There was a handle in the lid of the box; he lifted it and carried it out of the room, and still the Iron Man never stirred, but slept on and on. David went out of the room into the room beyond. The moon had risen high, and great barred patches of square light fell from the windows upon the iron floor beneath. In the vaulted spaces above, all was darkness and stillness. He hurried onward into the next room lit with moonlight, dark and still in the vault above. Beyond that was still another room, and so on and on, until he could not tell where he was. So he went from room to room, and around and around, and on and on, until he knew that he was lost in the vast dark spaces of the Iron Castle. But at last he smelt the night air in the distance, as though it came in at an open door. He ran across the squares of silent moonlight toward it Yes; there at last was the open door, and there was the night sky outside, all milky with the silent moonlight.
“Now I am safe,” thought David.
He did not know what was yet to come.
XV. The Escape
DAVID RAN TOWARD the open door and freedom.
Out he leaped and down the tall flight of stone steps to the soft earth beneath.
Instantly his foot struck the sod, a sudden and piercing blast of sound burst out upon the silence of the night.
It was the iron horn that hung by the iron chain at the gateway; so sudden and keen was the blast that David stopped short and stood as though rooted to where he stood.
Then in an instant it was as though all the dead and silent castle had sprung awake into life.
Lights flashed out; there was an uproar of voices and a clashing and a clattering everywhere. Shutters banged open and doors hanged shut. The lights came and went past the windows, and the shadows flew hither and thither across the walls.
And still the iron horn continued to sound its keen and piercing blast.
And now, through the shrill and stunning noise, David could hear another sound — a crashing clank and jingle and the rumbling thunderous tones of a giant voice.
It was the Iron Man, and he was coming.
Then David’s wits came back to him like a flash, and he turned to run away.
Suddenly, as he turned to fly, he heard a voice he knew, calling: “Help! Help! Save me! Save me!”
He looked up above, and whom should he see, leaning out of a window close under the eaves, stretching out her arms toward him, but Phyllis, Yes, Phyllis; but now grown into a beautiful young woman.
What with the noise and the uproar and the wonder of it all, David stood as though bewildered. “Is that you, Phyllis?” he cried.
“Yes; oh, yes!” she called. “Help me — help me away from here!”
“But I thought you were in the moon-garden,” cried David.
“So I am,” called Phyllis. “This is the moon-garden! Oh, help me away from it!”
Still David stood like one in a maze, not knowing what to do.
The iron horn was still blowing its splitting blast; but through it all the clashing foot-steps of the Iron Man rang ever louder and louder, and nearer and nearer.
And hark! What was that? A bell ringing through all the tumult. David listened, and then he knew what bell it was. It was the Man-in-the-moon ringing his bell at the back door of the moon-house.
“Run, Phyllis,” cried David, “up the backstairs, or else we are both lost!”
Then Phyllis’s face disappeared from the window up under the eaves, and as David listened he could hear the voice of the Man-in-the-moon, though dull and muffled, speaking to her in the distance just as the old fellow had spoken to him— “Give me your hand — now; a long step — there; that is it.” Then came the closing of a door — click! — clack! — and the next minute he heard Phyllis’s feet coming running quickly up the hack stairs that led from the moon-garden to the second story of the moon-house; nearer — nearer — nearer. — Then suddenly there she was standing beside him, panting from the rapid run.
David caught her by the arm. He could not believe that it was not all a dream until he felt that she was of real flesh and of real blood.
But the Iron Man was coming nearer and nearer. How again he spoke, and his great voice rumbled and shook within the castle. “Where is he who stole my Wonder-Box and my Know-All Book?” Then the door opened, and out he strode, the fire and smoke rolling out from his nostrils into the still and breathless night.
Phyllis shrieked aloud.
Then David set his fingers to his lips, and blew a shrill, keen whistle.
Instantly, as it had promised, the Black Winged Horse was there, his snow-white pinions glistening in the pallid moonlight. There was not a moment to lose. Quickly David lifted Phyllis to the back of the horse. “To the moon-house!” he cried; and then himself leaped astride of it behind her.
The Iron Man saw them, and he gave a great roar of rage as he came rushing toward them.
Away leaped the horse. Away it sped swifter than the wind, carrying David and Phyllis and the Wonder-Box and the Know-All Book.
“Hold fast!” cried David.
“I will,” said Phyllis. Her face was very pale. Her long hair blew back across his breast and face and lips in a soft and silky net.
The golden key still hung by the golden chain about David’s neck. It swung from side to side, and every now and then he put his hand up to see if it were safe. He heard the Iron Man shouting and hallooing behind them. He turned and looked over his shoulder to see the smoking and flaming giant coming rushing after them.
Past flew the Black Winged Horse, skimming like a swallow along the surface of the earth above the rocks and stones, the brambles and briers, but the Iron Man came almost as fast. Now and then he would stop to pick up a huge stone to hurl after them, but on sped the Winged Horse, and then on the Iron Man would come rushing again.
On and on they flew, until at last the darkness of night began to grow gray toward the east, and the daylight grew wider and wider.
Then the sun leaped up round and red out of the east, and once again David turned his head and looked behind him. The Iron Man was still coming rushing after them like a whirlwind. And now the rising sun shone full in his face and turned it as red as blood, and the black smoke from his nostrils trailed away behind, melting and fading into the clear and lucid ether of early morning.
“Look!” said the horse. “But look ahead and not behind. Tell me, what do you see?” Then David looked, shading his eyes from the level glare of the sun. “I see,” said he, “something that shines like a flame of fire away — yes, it is the old woman’s cottage upon the cliff, and beyond tha
t I see the far-away edge of the ocean.”
“Aye,” said the Black Winged Horse, “and there my labor ends. That far I can carry you, but no further. Beyond the brow of the cliff you must go alone.”
“But the Iron Man!” cried David.
“Beyond the cliff you must save yourself. I cannot carry you further than that.”
“But Phyllis!” cried David again.
“You must save her, too. I cannot carry you further.”
“But how shall we escape?” said David.
“You must go in at the door out of which you came. There is no other escape.”
“But the fire,” said David, “and the ice through which I passed.”
“There will neither be fire to burn you any more nor ice to freeze you. He who has passed through them once, shall never have to pass through them again.”
“But Phyllis,” said David. “How will she pass through the fire and the ice?”
“Neither will they harm her while she is with you,” said the Black Winged Horse.
Phyllis had listened to all that they had said; but she did not understand it.
Then David looked behind him again for the last time. The Iron Man was far, far behind.
Then they reached the end of their journey. The Black Winged Horse sped past the old woman’s cottage. She was nowhere to be seen, but the white clothes were hanging out upon the line, blowing in the wind. On sped the Black Horse, and to the very edge of the cliff, and then he stopped short. “Tins is the end,” cried he. “I can go no further.”
David leaped to the earth, and then lifted Phyllis down from the horse’s back.
Far below the breakers were dashing and foaming as white as milk among the rocks and boulders, and all about the face of the cliff, and away out into the empty air, the sea-gulls flew clamoring. But neither Phyllis nor David thought of what they saw. She looked over her shoulder at the looming Giant rushing toward them. “Oh, look!” she cried. “How fast he is coming!”
“But will you not now set me free?” said the horse.
“Yes,” said David, “I will. He caught the bridle and loosed the buckle. “Farewell,” said he, and as he spoke he stripped the bridle and the bit away.
The Black Horse gave a great neigh like the peal of a trumpet. Clashing his hoofs upon the rocks, he spread his wonderful white wings, and, leaping into the air, flew clapping and thundering away — away — away — now circling and soaring in upward spiral flight, until he became a spot upon the sky — twinkled — was lost — was there — was gone.
XVI. Back to the Moon-House
BUT MEANTIME DAVID and Phyllis were running down the stone steps that led from the brow of the cliffs to the seashore below, David carrying the Wonder-Box tightly clasped beneath his arm, and pressing the key to his breast with the other hand. The Iron Man was still coming rushing after them, but David felt sure that they would now escape, for after they had reached the beach below, it was only a little distance to the iron door whence he had come from the other side of the Moon-Angel. He knew that what the Black Horse had said was true — they had but to enter there, and they would be safe.
They reached the beach, and then hurried along the stony shore toward the door, out of which David had come the day before. As they ran, David looked hack over his shoulder, and saw that the Iron Man was heavily and cumbersomely climbing down the stone steps from above, his head and shoulders just showing gigantically above the edge of the rocky clefts.
On hurried the two, and there, at last, was the door. David gave a shout of delight, and rushed toward it.
* * * *
It was locked.
* * * *
David stood as still as a stone. His very heart seemed to cease to beat within him.
Locked! Could it be? He turned again and strove to push it open.
It stood as solid as the rock into which it was built.
“Open the door!” cried Phyllis. “Oh, open the door, David, he is coming.”
“I cannot open it,” said David, hoarsely. “It is locked.”
“Oh, try again,” cried Phyllis. “Try again, David.”
But David shook his head. “It is locked, Phyllis,” said he, dully. “We cannot go in now.”
He knew that they were not to enter, and now the Iron Man was coming stumbling among the rocks straight toward them, looming bigger and bigger as he approached.
David set the Wonder-Box down upon the step in front of the door, and then went forward to meet the Iron Giant. He had no weapon with him, nothing with which to fight his battle. He looked about him as he went toward the Giant, and seeing a sharp and jagged stone, he picked it up, weighing it in his hand. He looked back and saw that Phyllis was sitting crouched together in a heap against the door, watching him, and trembling and shuddering. Then he looked around again; the Giant was close to him.
Then the Iron Man stopped short, and stood for a little space looking at David. Suddenly he burst into a great vibrating roar of laughter, a roar that sounded like the stroke of the clapper of a huge bell. “Now you are mine,” he said. “And the girl and you shall come back to my Iron Castle to serve me as long as you live.” Then he reached out his great iron hand as though to grasp David by the hair.
Then David, swinging his body, hurled, with all his might and main, the great jagged stone he held straight at the head of the Iron Man.
Straight it flew, striking the Iron Man right in the center of the forehead. There was a clanging crash as the stone struck its mark, a tinkle as of broken glass, and, as David looked, he saw for one instant in the center of the Giant’s forehead a broken and shattered hole in the hollow iron. For that instant he saw that the Iron Man was all alight within as with red and flaming fire; the next there came a gush of white, hot molten iron that burst out from the hole, and flowed down across the iron face and the iron bosom — down to the wet rocks, where it fell hissing and sputtering. The huge form stood for a moment swaying and toppling, the iron lips gave forth a terrible, hollow, and ringing cry, and then, turning half around, the giant fell crashing upon the stones, his head in the water, his feet upon the rocky shore. Clouds of hissing steam rose up from the fuming waters where he lay wallowing. Once he strove to rise, lifting his terrible front from the dripping brine. Then he fell again with a splash, rolled over upon his face, and was still, while only a slow, thin vapor rose from his iron length, cooled by the water in which he lay.
David stood towering above his fallen enemy, his bosom heaving and falling as the ocean heaves and falls after the storm has passed by and gone. All had happened so quickly that he could not believe it. Was it true? Yes, it was true! His heart swelled with joy and with triumph as though it would burst. It was true; he had indeed slain the iron monster, that monster that had so long made the earth tremble when he walked upon its quaking bosom. So he stood there, looking down upon the huge fallen form from which the last thin lingering vapor wreaths curled slowly up into the air to melt and to dissolve above.
He heard Phyllis calling him, “David, David!” and then as he turned, lifted up with exaltation, she cried out, “David, the door is open!”
It was true! Now the door was open, and stood ajar, and they might enter when they chose.
David lifted Phyllis up from where she sat, and taking up the Wonder-Box again, thrust the door open and entered.
* * * *
It was the second story of the moon-house.
Phyllis had never seen it before, and she stood gazing about her in the milky brightness, sunk in wonder. “Where are we?” said she.
David looked at her, smiling. “Do you not know?” said he. “This is the moon-house, and we are in the second story. See, there are the windows out of which I used to look and see the wonderful things I sometimes told you about But, come, Phyllis, let us go down-stairs. I know that the Man-in-the-moon must be waiting for us. Afterward, maybe, we can come back here.”
The Man-in-the-moon arose as they came in, and taking off his cap, and
holding his long tobacco pipe behind his back, bowed first to David and then to Phyllis. “I am glad to see your Honor’s face again,” he said to David. “And I am glad to see your Ladyship’s pretty face as well, and may you both have a long life and a happy life.”
Phyllis blushed and David laughed.
“And what is that you have in your hand?” said the Man-in-the-moon. David held it up. “This,” he said, “is the Wonder-Box.”
“I was sure you would find it and bring it back again,” said the Man-in-the-moon. “I told his Royal Highness, the Master Cobbler, that you would,” and the old man smiled until his face was covered all over with a shining cobweb of silvery wrinkles.
“But tell me,” said David, “how soon can we get back to the brown earth again? for there is where we wish to go.”
“Back to the earth again?” said the Man-in-the-moon, “How soon?” He looked up at the clock. “Why, you are just in the nick of time. The moon-path will be at its best now in — let me see — in three minutes.”
“Then there is no time to lose,” said David, “and we must be going.”
“I will go down with you,” said the Man-in-the-moon.
He led the way down stairs, Phyllis and David following him. Down they went, and down they went, until at last they came to the front door of the moon-house. The Man-in-the-moon opened the door, and there lay the moon-path stretching away across the water, shining as bright as silver, and throwing the light up into their faces.
“Good-by,” said David, and he gave the Man-in-the-moon his hand.
