At last they were safely over, and Ellen drew a sigh of relief.
On and on they went, and instead of the rocky walls on either side of them growing lower they grew higher and higher, arching over more and more until at last they met and made a sort of gallery. There was very little light here, and when at last the pig stopped and the gander settled to the ground Ellen had to look twice before she saw that they were in front of a heavily barred door. "Where are we now?" she asked.
The eyes of the boy were flashing with eagerness. "It is the door of the Queerbodies' house," he cried. He sprang from the pig, and, taking hold of the handle, he tried to open it. "Locked!" he added.
Slipping his hand into his pocket he drew from it a whole handful of keys. Then Ellen knew that they were what had jingled every time he moved.
He began to try one key after another, but none of them seemed to fit.
As he was busy in this way a curious roar sounded through the gallery, echoing and re-echoing from the rocky walls. "What's that?" cried Ellen.
"Oh, only the dragon yawning. He must have wakened up," answered the lad coolly, still busy with his keys.
"But won't he follow us?"
"No; he only guards the entrance to the defile."