After renewed thanks to their friends, the children set off, carrying the giant’s heart with them.
“If you should find it at all troublesome, just give it a little more spider-juice directly,” said the grandfather, as they took their leave.
Now, the giant had given an awful roar of pain the moment they anointed his heart, and had fallen down in a fit, in which he lay so long that all the boys might have escaped if they had not been so fat. One did, and got home in safety. For days the giant was unable to speak. The first words he uttered were—
“Oh, my heart! my heart!”
“Your heart is safe enough, dear Thunderstump,” said his wife. “Really, a man of your size ought not to be so nervous and apprehensive. I am ashamed of you.”
“You have no heart, Doodlem,” answered he. “I assure you that at this moment mine is in the greatest danger. It has fallen into the hands of foes, though who they are I cannot tell.”
Here he fainted again; for Tricksey-Wee, finding the heart begin to swell a little, had given it the least touch of spider-juice.
Again he recovered, and said—
“Dear Doodlem, my heart is coming back to me. It is coming nearer and nearer.”