suddenly rain began beating on the roof of the barn…
the flowerseller turned to the mountebank and hastings the fifth form bully who, like himself, were camels.
mrs white and ben jonson and herr riemann all had their backs to the camels, kneeling in front of the baby judas (baby judases?).
moloch was addressing his angry words to the kneeling trio and paying scant attention to the camels.
“let’s make a break for it.” the flowerseller whispered to the mountebank.
and just like that, in a flash. the three camels were out the barn door and racing across the desert.
the rain, which had starting beating gently on the roof of the barn, was now a furious storm.
it was dark. the bright star in the sky which had led them to the barn was gone.
“where are we?” the flowerseller asked the mountebank.
“i don’t know,” the mountebank muttered between clenched teeth, “but wherever we are, we must not lose hope.”
“that’s easy for you to say, mounty, ” said hastings, “but you got us into this mess. listening to the whimperings of your little toady, and trying to play the role of hero.”
“no one asked you to come along,” the mountebank replied stiffly. “you can go back, if you like.”
“go back where?” hastings retorted. “can you see any lights? we are lost, completely lost in this miserable rain-soaked wilderness.”
“but, look!” exclaimed the flowerseller. “at least we are no longer camels!”
and it was true - the three boys had returned to their original forms, or at east the forms they had assumed back at school.
“and what good does that do us, i should like to know,” cried hastings sulkily. “at least those camel’s coats were warm, and kept out the rain.”
“let us persevere,” said the mountebank. “let us make a plan and stick to it.”
“but, mounty,” asked the flowerseller, “ which direction shall we take?”
“any direction,” responded the mountebank, “so long as we take it.” and saying so, he struck out in a direction.
“follow me!”
the flowerseller and hastings followed.
they marched through the rain and the wet sand for what seemed an eternity.
suddenly the rain stopped.
they beheld a sky filled with brightly colored stars…
and a city in the distance!
a city of tall buildings with even taller spires…
as they came closer they saw that the buildings were decorated with fantastic statues and friezes.
depicting fierce battles between all manner of creatures, most of them with little resemblance to humans, or anything dreamed by humans.
and when they reached the city gates, they found them unmanned by any soldiers or constabulary.
“what matter of city is this?” asked the flowerseller, “that is left thus unguarded, and open to the four winds?"
"a conquered city,” answered hastings. “one conquered long ago, in the mists of forgotten glories…”
“yes,” drawled monty, “ and whose conquerors have themselves been conquered… by the implacable army of time…”
“but at least there are buildings,” said the flowerseller. “let us find shelter in them, before the rain comes again…”
and they entered the gates of the fantastic city.
and heard laughter above them…
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