"
"God knows," said Jack, "I fear your anger; but yet your anger does
not prove that a man should wear a gyve on his right leg."
And at that the appearance of his father gobbled like a turkey.
"Ah, heaven," cried Jack, "the sorcerer again!"
The blood ran backward in his body and his joints rebelled against
him for the love he bore his father; but he heaved up the sword,
and plunged it in the heart of the appearance; and the appearance
cried out aloud with the voice of his father; and fell to the
ground; and a little bloodless white thing fled from the room.
The cry rang in Jack's ears, and his soul was darkened; but now
rage came to him. "I have done what I dare not think upon," said
he. "I will go to an end with it, or perish. And when I get home,
I pray God this may be a dream, and I may find my father dancing."
So he went on after the bloodless thing that had escaped; and in
the way he met the appearance of his mother, and she wept. "What
have you done?" she cried. "What is this that you have done? Oh,
come home (where you may be by bedtime) ere you do more ill to me
and mine; for it is enough to smite my brother and your father."
"Dear mother, it is not these that I have smitten," said Jack; "it
was but the enchanter in their shape. And even if I had, it would
not prove that a man should wear a gyve on his right leg.
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