To the amazement of all, the trees parted so that a way was opened and the entire band now found it quite easy to follow in the footsteps of the giant.

Together they all began to climb the hill in the direction of the mysterious castle.

But while the children are wending their way up the hill, let us take leave of them for a time, that we may have a peep at one of the rooms of the castle.

The room has been described as "the finest room in a king's palace," and while this would seem a somewhat exaggerated statement, there were at least many evidences of elegance to be noted.

Rich tapestries hung about the walls. They presented certain stories from mythology in the form of pictures traced in golden threads. There were golden candlesticks, and even the chairs and tables were of gold.

At the far side of the room, which was very large, there appeared to be a sort of alcove before which a damask curtain was closely drawn.

Before this curtain sat a lady of honor. She seemed a very great person indeed, her dress being inferior only to that of a queen in richness and elegance. She had a double chin and a very large stomach, which in her day were considered quite suitable to a person in her position.

Somewhat out of keeping with the golden furniture and the rich tapestries was the great fireplace containing an almost commonplace crane and kettle, and bordered by irregular areas of smoked wood and stone, indicating that the ventilation of the room needed looking after in the worst way.

In addition to the lady of honor there were other persons in the room: a scullion, or cook, with rather comical features and a red nose, who sat before the fireplace; a line of guards in mailed armor who were stationed around the walls, finely erect, with spears held perpendicularly, their ends resting on the floor; and a herald, or messenger, standing just inside an inner door.

But—wonderful to relate—the lady of honor, the scullion, the guards in mail, and the herald, were all sound asleep! Moreover, they had all been sound asleep for precisely one hundred years.