The noise was almost as horrible out there. Doors were opening alldown the road and people were running out with their hands over theirears.

“Ought we to leave him alone in that state?” Sophiequavered.

“Yes,” said Michael. “If he thinks it’syour fault, then definitely.”

They hurried through the town, pursued by throbbing screams. Quitea crowd came with them. In spite of the fact that the fog had nowbecome a seeping sea drizzle, everyone made for the harbor or thesands, where the noise seemed easier to bear. The fray vastness ofthe sea soaked it up a little. Everyone stood in damp huddles,looking out at the misty white horizon and the dripping ropes on themoored ships while the noise became a gigantic, heartbroken sobbing.Sophie reflected that she was seeing the sea close for the first timein her life. It was pity that she was not enjoying it more.

The sobs died away to vast, miserable sighs and then to silence.People began cautiously to go back into the town. Some of them cametimidly up to Sophie.

“Is something wrong with the poor Sorcerer, Mrs.Witch?”

“He’s a little unhappy today,” Michael said.“Come on. I think we can risk going back now.”

As they went along the quayside, several sailors called outanxiously from the moored ships, wanting to know it the noise meantstorms or bad luck.

“Not at all,” Sophie called back. “It’sall over now.”

But it was not. They came back to the wizard’s house, whichwas an ordinary crooked little building from the outside that Sophiewould not have recognized if Michael had not been with her. Michaelopened the shabby little door rather cautiously. Inside, Howl wasstill sitting in the stool. He sat in an attitude of utter despair.And he was covered all over in thick green slime.

There were horrendous, dramatic, violent quantities of greenslime—oodles of it. It covered Howl completely. It draped his headand shoulders in sticky dollops, heaping on his knees and hands,trickling in glops down his legs, and dripping off the stool insticky strands. It was in oozing ponds and crawling pools over mostof the floor. Long fingers of it had crept into the heart. It smelledvile.

“Save me!” Calcifer cried in a hoarse whisper. He wasdown to two desperately flickering small flames. “This stuff isgoing to put me out!”

Sophie held up her skirt and marched as near Howl as she couldget—which was not very near. “Stop it!” she said.“Stop it at once! You are behaving just like a baby!”

Howl did not move or answer. His face stared from behind theslime, white and tragic and wide-eyed.

“What shall we do? Is he dead?” Michael asked,jittering beside the door.

Michael was a nice boy, Sophie thought, but a bit helpless in acrisis. “No, of course he isn’t,” she said.“And if it wasn’t for Calcifer, he could behave like ajellied eel all day for all I care! Open the bathroomdoor.”

While Michael was working his way between pools of slime to thebathroom, Sophie threw her apron into the hearth to stop more of thestuff getting near Calcifer and snatched up the shovel. She scoopedup loads of ash and dumped them in the biggest pools of slime. Ithissed violently. The room filled with steam and smelled worse thanever. Sophie furled up her sleeves, bent her back to get a goodpurchase on the Wizard’s slimy knees, and pushed Howl, stooland all, toward the bathroom. Her feet slipped and skidded in theslime, but of course the ooziness helped the stool to move too.Michael came and pulled at Howl’s slime-draped sleeves.Together, they trundled him into the bathroom. There, since Howlstill refused to move, they shunted him into the shower stall.

“Hot water, Calcifer!” Sophie panted grimly.“Very hot.”

It took an hour to wash the slime off Howl. It took Michaelanother hour to persuade Howl to get off the stool and into dryclothes. Luckily, the gray-and-scarlet suit Sophie had just mendedhad been draped over the back of the chair, out of the way of theslime. The blue-and-silver suit was ruined. Sophie told Michael toput it in the bath to soak. Meanwhile, mumbling and grumbling, shefetched more hot water. She turned the doorknob green-down and sweptall the slime out onto the moors. The castle left a trail like asnail in the heather, but it was an easy way to get rid of the slime.There were some advantages to living in a moving castle, Sophiethought as she washed the floor. She wondered if Howl’s noiseshad been coming from the castle too. In which case, she pitied thefolk of Market Chipping.

By this time Sophie was tired and cross. She knew the green slimewas Howl’s revenge on her, and she was not at all prepared tobe sympathetic when Michael finally led Howl forth from the bathroom,clothed in gray and scarlet, and sat him tenderly in the chair by thehearth.

“That was plain stupid!” Calcifer sputtered.“Were you trying to get rid of the best part of your magic, orsomething?”

Howl took no notice. He just sat, looking tragic andshivering.

“I can’t get him to speak!” Michaelwhispered miserably.

“It’s just a tantrum,” Sophie said. Martha andLettie were good at having tantrums. She knew how to deal with those.On the other hand, it is quite a risk to spank a wizard for gettinghysterical about his hair. Anyway, Sophie’s experience told herthat tantrums are seldom about the thing they appear to be about. Shemade Calcifer move over so that she could balance a pan of milk onthe logs. When it was warm, she thrust a mugful into Howl’shands. “Drink it,” she said. “Now, what’s allthis fuss about? Is it this young lady you keep going tosee?”

Howl sipped the milk dolefully. “Yes,” he said.“I left her alone to see if that would make her remember mefondly, and it hasn’t. She wasn’t sure, even when I lastsaw her. Now she tells me there’s another fellow.”

He sounded so miserable that Sophie felt quite sorry for him. Nowhis hair was dry. She noticed guiltily, it really was almostpink.

“She’s the most beautiful girl there ever was in theseparts,” Howl went on mournfully. “I love her so dearly,but she scorns my deep devotion and gets sorry for another fellow.How can she have another fellow after all this attentionI’ve given her? They usually get rid of the other fellows assoon as I come along.”

Sophie’s sympathy shrank quite sharply. It occurred to herthat if Howl could cover himself with green slime so easily, then hecould just as easily turn his hair the proper color. “Then whydon’t you feed the girl a love potion and get it overwith?”

“Oh, no,” said Howl. “That’s not playingthe game. That would spoil all the fun.”

Sophie’s sympathy shrank again. A game, was it?“Don’t you ever give a thought for the poor girl?”she snapped.

Howl finished the milk and gazed into the mug with a sentimentalsmile. “I think of her all the time,” he said.“Lovely, lovely Lettie Hatter.”

Sophie’s sympathy went for good, with a sharp bang. A gooddeal of anxiety took its place. Oh, Martha! she thought. You have been busy! So it wasn’t anyone in Cesari’s youwere talking about!