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“If you’re not a sissy, prove it,” she said, her nose close to his.
    “What do you mean?” asked Egan.
    “You know,” whispered Ada. “You know. Climb it, Egan. Climb up Kneeknock Rise!”
    Egan stared at her.
    “There! You see?” she cried. “You’re afraid. Egan’s afraid! Egan’s afraid!” And she began to dance around him again.
    Egan got slowly to his feet. Why not go? He wanted to. He had wanted to all along. He thought again of what it would mean to slay the Megrimum. To bring its head down on a stick! Excitement washed over him and he trembled.
    “I’ll show you!” he shouted. “I’ll show you I’m not afraid, or Annabelle, either. We’ll climb it together, both of us. You’ll see!” And he turned toward the cliff.
    Ada stopped her dance abruptly. Her face as she peered at him in the dim light was suddenly very pale. “No, Egan! I didn’t mean it!” She tugged at his jacket. “Don’t go! Don’t go!”
    But Egan pulled away, suddenly possessed by the dream he had had, lost in it, part of it. He was running away toward the cliff, fearless and wild, and the old dog ran after him.

     

     
    “You’re a big dumb fool!” screamed Ada into the wind. “The Megrimum will eat you just like it ate Uncle Ott!” She began to cry and then she was running, too, running away toward home just as the rain began.

    In the fields at the edge of the village, the visitors to the Instep Fair sat eating their suppers in a state of high excitement and anticipation. The rain fell softly at first, hissing into campfires and pattering gently on the sloping canvas of tents and the thin board roofs of caravans. Eager voices babbled, called, whispered.
    “Ooh, I’m scared to death! When will it begin?” This happily.
    “There’s a lot more to the world than meets the eye. There’s hidden things, strange things. That old fellow up there in the mist—it makes you stop and wonder. He can do terrible things. Great things, maybe. Who knows?” This soberly.
    “I tell you there’s nothing like it anywhere else in the world. I’ve traveled and I know.” This proudly.
    “Sheep and bread and the flat fields, that’s what the days are. Except for this day. But it’s enough, just having this day. It’s the knowing there’s something different, something special up there waiting. It’s the knowing you could choose to change your days—climb up there and throw yourself right down the throat of the only and last and greatest terrible secret in the world. Except you don’t climb up. A secret like that—well, it’s worth the keeping. And anyway, you’d never come down again, ever.” This with intense satisfaction.

    The rain began to fall a little harder now. And all the while Egan was climbing up Kneeknock Rise, and Annabelle climbed after him.

    “Stop crying, Ada! Calm yourself!” said Uncle Anson harshly. “I can’t understand a thing you’re saying!”
    Aunt Gertrude stood rigid as a post, her hand on her heart, staring at her daughter.
    “It’s Egan, Papa! Egan,” sobbed Ada. “He did it! I teased him, Papa, and he did it. He wouldn’t stop.”
    “ What did he do, Ada? What did Egan do ?” cried Uncle Anson, gripping her shoulders firmly.
    “Oh, Papa,” she gulped, turning her face away from the alarm in her father’s eyes. “It’s all my fault. I dared him and he’s doing it now. He’s climbing, Papa. Climbing Kneeknock Rise.”
    “Merciful heavens!” gasped Uncle Anson, and behind him Aunt Gertrude sagged and dropped in a faint to the floor.

    And all the while Egan was climbing. Up and up over rocks and weeds, up between the twisted trees, panting with excitement. From time to time he paused, waiting for Annabelle to catch up with him. The dog’s sides were heaving and her tongue dangled sidewise from her jaws, but her stiff old legs churned steadily along and her eyes were bright. Then all at once it began to rain in earnest, blurring the dim light and shellacking the