"Look, there's the castle!" said the knight, pointing straight in front of him.
There it was, sure enough! It stood all by itself on a hill, round whose grassy sides a road wound and curved up to the great gates. These gates were made of some bright metal, and on the top of each was carved a great crown. Whether there were really one thousand towers or not it is impossible to say, but there were towers everywhere, all shining like burnished gold in the bright sunshine.
As they drew nearer they could hear the blare of trumpets. Presently the gates swung open without a sound, and the trumpeters, mounted on white horses, came riding through, playing such stirring music that George felt as if he wanted to wave his cap and cheer.
They formed up in two lines, one on each side of the road; the knight rode through the gates into the courtyard. Here he dismounted and lifted George down from the saddle.
"Here we are at last!" he said.
A long flight of marble steps led up to the entrance. The knight took George by the hand, and up they went, ever so high, together. At the top stood two soldiers in armour. They saluted, and the door of the castle opened as if by magic.
