At last the Worm uncoiled itself, snorted
its last foam of blood and fire, and rolled dying into the river, and
was never seen more.
[Illustration: The Lambton Worm]
The Childe of Lambton swam ashore, and raising his bugle to his lips,
sounded its note thrice. This was the signal to the Hall, where the
servants and the old lord had shut themselves in to pray for the
Childe's success. When the third sound of the bugle was heard, they
were to release Boris, the Childe's favourite hound. But such was their
joy at learning of the Childe's safety and the Worm's defeat, that they
forgot orders, and when the Childe reached the threshold of the Hall his
old father rushed out to meet him, and would have clasped him to his
breast.
"The vow! the vow!" cried out the Childe of Lambton, and blew still
another blast upon his horn. This time the servants remembered, and
released Boris, who came bounding to his young master. The Childe raised
his shining sword, and severed the head of his faithful hound.
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