“Oh, dastard hand,” Peter said, and he raised the arrow to use it as a dagger.
Tootles did not flinch. He bared his breast. “Strike, Peter,” he said firmly, “strike true.”
Twice did Peter raise the arrow, and twice did his hand fall. “I cannot strike,” he said with awe, “there is something stays my hand.”
All looked at him in wonder, save Nibs, who fortunately looked at Wendy.
“It is she,” he cried, “the Wendy lady, see, her arm!”
Wonderful to relate, Wendy had raised her arm. Nibs bent over her and listened reverently. “I think she said, ‘Poor Tootles,’” he whispered.
“She lives,” Peter said briefly.
Slightly cried instantly, “The Wendy lady lives.”
Then Peter knelt beside her and found his button. You remember she had put it on a chain that she wore round her neck.
“See,” he said, “the arrow struck against this. It is the kiss I gave her. It has saved her life.”