his firestone hanging by the rim, and
once again he let it down to be refilled. But this time as he wound
up, nothing could keep him from letting a curious eye go over the
brink, to see how the Well-folk fared over their wine; and in what he
beheld there was already comfort for his soul.

The blue arms went like oars out of unison; like carpet-beaters
stricken in the eyes and throat with dust, they beat foolishly against
the sides and bottom of the bucket, shattering and letting fall their
goblets in each unruly attempt. And because Noodle wound leniently at
the rope, willing that they should have their fill, at the last gasp
they were able to send the bucket empty to the top. It was the last
staving off of destiny that lay in their power to make; thereafter
wine conquered them.

Quickly Noodle drew out the ring, and sent the bucket flying on its
last errand. It smacked the water, heeled over, and dipped under a
full draught. Then Noodle spun the windlass with the full pinch of his
energies, calling on the bucket to ascend. He heard the water spilling
from its sides, and knew that the blue arms were there, battling to
arrest it as it flew, and to pay him back once more with emptiness and
mockery. Yet in spite of them the bucket hasted and lightened not, but
was drawn up to the well's head brimming largely, and winking a blue
eye joyously to the light of day.

Over head and ears Noodle plunged for the quenching of his thirst, nor
stayed nor drew back till his head had smitten upon the bottom of the
bucket in his pursuit of the draught. Then it was apparent that only
a third of the water remained, the rest having obeyed the imperative
suction of his throat, and that the thirsty well had at last found a
master under the eye of heaven.

In the depth of the bucket the water flashed like a burning sapphire
and swung circling, curling and coiling, tossing this way and that,
as if struggling to get out. At last with a laugh it threw down the
bucket, and tore back into the well with a crash like thunder.

Up from the well rose a chant of voices:

'Under Heaven, over Hell,
You have broken the spell,
You are lord of the Well.'

Noodle stepped over the brink of his new realm, calling the Well-folk
to reach hands for him and bear him down. All round, the blue arms
started out, catching him and handing him on from one to another
ladderwise, down, and down, and down. As he went, anemone lips came
out of the crannies in