The Golden Goblin grinned angrily at this, but as Kelch had the phial, and could make his subjects vanish, he was afraid to say anything as they glided rapidly along to the palace. It was gliding and not walking, for Kelch found that though his legs did not move, still he seemed to be approaching nearer to the great gold castle in which the Goblin held his court.
It was all built of shining gold, with innumerable towers, and huge windows of diamond glass. There was a great flight of steps leading to the front door, and the Goblin ran up these, followed by Kelch, until at length they came to a great hall with many golden pillars, and an immense domed roof all glittering with jewels.
The Goblin went to the end of this hall, and, having seated himself upon his throne, which was cut out of one gigantic diamond, he offered Kelch a goblet filled with liquid gold.
“I won’t drink that,” said Kelch, and dashed the goblet out of the little man’s hand.
“Just as well you refused,” replied the Goblin complacently, pointing to a golden statue that stood near the throne, “or you would have become like that.”
Kelch turned to examine the statue, and saw to his grief that it was pretty Filina thus changed. Every hair of her head, every fold of her dress was there, but she was nothing but a stiff golden statue.
“I can’t take my Filina back like this,” he cried, turning to the Goblin, who sat on his throne grinning at Kelch’s sorrow.
“I don’t mean you to,” retorted the Goblin; “it’s far too valuable a statue to give to you.”
“Filina is still more valuable.”
“Would you rather have Filina than all that gold?”