Indeed, he actually did so.  He laid his hand on the door of the temple.  The door would not open!  But instead, something quite dreadful happened.

In the back row of devotees sat one whom the giant had not yet seen.  It was Mr. Literal, seated on a pedestal marked with his name.

This person started up with a scream of fury.  He had recognized the giant.

“Up!” he cried to his fellow-devotees.  “The evil son has returned.  Up, all of you, and defend the temple!”

The others were all thoroughly aroused.  They turned their eyes toward the temple and perceived the giant standing at the very door!

They sprang toward him with great fury.  They quickly surrounded him.  It seemed that he must really perish before their wrath.  And then—­then what happened?

Everychild could not stand idle and see his friend perish.  He bethought him of the sword the Masked Lady had given him.  He drew the sword quickly and with a loud cry he dashed toward the temple steps.

He gained the side of the giant; and then—­what is this? The devotees all turned to cowering wretches!  They put forth their elbows to ward off imaginary blows.  They slunk back like base cowards.

They had seen the sword in Everychild’s hand, and they had recognized it!

Moreover, before the gleam of that sword the temple door swung open.

The giant dashed into the temple to greet his mother.  He became for an instant invisible.  The devotees were now slinking back to a safe distance.  Everychild, without ever lowering his sword, smote them all with his glance of scorn.

And then the giant reappeared.  But oh, what a change had taken place in him!  He held his hands aloft in an agony of despair.  He staggered down the temple steps, followed by the wondering Everychild.

“What is it?” asked Everychild in distress.  “What ails you?”

They were drawing away from the temple now, and the devotees were thronging back to the open door.  They surrounded it, closing it with frenzied hands.

The giant drew apart, giving no explanation to Everychild just at first.  But standing alone and heart-broken he lifted his hands high.

“She is gone!” he cried in a hoarse, agonized whisper.

The devotees lifted their voices in a triumphant chorus—­

“She is within!”

But the giant, his hands hanging limp now, and his eyes staring into vacancy, repeated in the same hoarse voice: 

“She is gone!”

CHAPTER XXVII

HOW EVIL DAYS CAME UPON THE CASTLE

As they left the temple behind them, on their return journey, Everychild could not help thinking that it was a very good thing to have found that the giant’s mother was not in the temple.  To his way of looking at it, this argued that she had escaped from the terrible creatures who surrounded the temple.  And if so, why should they not hope to find her elsewhere?