-faced Man. "I see that the Lights are beginning to
change, which means that soon the Road will be closed and the Gates
opened."
"I can't remember anything," he answered. "Yes, there is one matter," he
added nervously. "I see, Mr. Hare, that you are thinking of my boy Tom,
not very kindly I am afraid. As you have been so good as to forgive me I
hope that you won't be hard on Tom. He is not at all a bad sort of a lad
if a little thoughtless, like many other young people."
"I don't like Tom," said the Hare, with decision. "Tom shot me when you
told him not to shoot. Tom shut me up in a filthy place with a yellow
rabbit which he forgot to feed, so that it wanted to eat me. Tom tried
to cut me off from the wood so that the running dogs might catch me,
although you shouted to him that it was not sportsmanlike. Tom dragged
me out of the sea and blew down my nostrils to keep me alive. Tom threw
me to the hounds, although Giles remonstrated with him and even the
huntsman begged him to let me go. I tell you that I don't like Tom."
"Still, Mr. Hare," pleaded the Red-faced Man, "I hope that if it should
be in your power when we get through those Gates, that you will be
merciful to Tom. I can't think of much to say for him in this hurry, but
there, he is my only son and the truth is that I love him. You know he
may live--to be different--if you don't bring some misfortune on him."
"Who am I to bring misfortune or to withhold it?" asked the Hare,
softening visibly. "Well, I know what love means, for my mother loved me
and I loved her in my way. I tell you that when I saw her dead, turned
from a beautiful living thing into a stained lump of flesh and fur, I
felt dreadful. I understand now that you love Tom as my mother loved me,
and, Man, for the sake of your love--not for his sake, mind--I promise
you that I won't say anything against Tom if I can help it, or do
anything either."
"You're a real good fellow!" exclaimed the Red-faced Man, with evident
relief. "Give me your hand. Oh! I forgot, you can't. Hullo! what's up
now? Everything seems to be altering."
*****
As he spoke, to my eyes the Lights began to change in earnest. All the
sky (I call it sky for clearness) above the mighty Gates became as
it were alive with burning tongues of every colour that an artist can
conceive. By degrees these fiery tongues or swords shaped themselves
into a vast circle which drove back the walls of darkness, and through
this circle, g
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