At this strange sight the Samurai showed little surprise, but he walked sternly forward, and in the calmest manner, without even waiting to say “May I?” or “By your leave!” he aimed a terrible blow at Coppertop’s head with his cruel two-handed sword. Fortunately, she moved her head, but the blade cut through both her wings, and, with a cry of dismay, she saw them fall to the ground. Instantly Tibbs and Kiddiwee threw themselves on the Samurai, flying round him rapidly, to dazzle and confuse him. They kicked and they punched him--for what else could they do? They pulled his long, black hair. They scratched him. Anything to take his attention, and to prevent him from again attacking Coppertop. Miss Smiler joined in also, and did what she could, which wasn’t very much, for she was smaller than ever now, being no larger than when she hung on the chain round the neck of her little mistress. Making a final effort, the Samurai tried, with one sweep of his terrible sword, to cut through the bodies of the two boys. But his foot slipped on a stone which Smiler had rolled under it, and he fell crashing to the ground, the sword flying out of his hand. In a flash, Tibbs seized the sword, and, swinging it above his head with both hands, he rushed upon the fallen Samurai. But, before he could strike, the armour of the Samurai was flung asunder, and revealed the craven face, the snub nose, and the trembling form of the wretched Clerk of the Weather! “Mercy! Mercy!” he cried, grovelling on the ground at the feet of the two boys. “Spare me, and I’ll worry you no more! You shall be free to find your precious day unhindered.” “Perhaps it _would_ be better not to kill him,” suggested Coppertop. “You see, if we did, the weather would be simply too awful for words, with no one to look after it.” “All right,” agreed Tibbs, reluctantly. At the words the Clerk of the Weather rose shakily to his feet, and, springing into the air, disappeared behind a passing cloud. “I don’t trust him a bit!” muttered Tibbs. “And I may never get another chance to cut a real head off,” he said, regretfully. “Oh, you two dears!” cried Coppertop, beside herself with joy, “you’re both positively Victoria Cross heroes! I’m terrifikly proud of you. If I wasn’t so upset about my poor old spoilt wings, I could almost cry with happiness!” “Funny things--girls?” remarked Tibbs, feeling awkward at being regarded as a hero. “Let’s find another head. This sword’s too sharp to waste. Come on, Kiddiwee,” and off he raced. “_Boys_ are funny--I should think,” remarked Coppertop. “Fancy leaving me like that, when we’ve only just found each other. Oh, I do wish I had a baby to squeedge.” At this moment she glanced down, and there she beheld Smiler; smiling, too, with all her might. “Oh, I do love you, I do!” cried the child, impulsively, and seizing the surprised Camel in her hands, she kissed her fondly.