They groped carefully along the gallery wall, but there was no sign of a door. They went down on their hands and knees; not a crack met their finger tips. Then they searched diligently with their lights. There was one place in the floor that looked a little worn; and on tap- ping ever so gently on the wall above, the sound seemed a bit more hollow. Even, however, if this were something more than fancy, it did not help them much. What was to be done?
They sat down and fell to serious consideration. Had anything been said that might afford a clue? The yellow dwarf’s rhymes seemed part sense, part nonsense, and nothing that he had said sounded likely to be of any use, though his recalled malice added to their fears.
“What was it they called out as they led him away?” asked the ground-gnome.
“Why, ne—ne—something or other—yes, I have it, ‘Nepo,’” replied the maker of shadows; “but what sense is there in that? Was it the name of someone, do you think?”
“Hem!” said the ground-gnome thoughtfully. “‘Nepo’, backwards, is ‘Open,’ and they repeated it three times. I‘ll tell you what: it’s a password like ‘Open sesame’—probably ‘Nepo’ to go in, and ‘Open’ to come out! Let’s try it.”
So they said softly, just above the seemingly worn floor, “Nepo, nepo, nepo!” and behold! the concealed door in the wall slowly opened, and they went in. Then, lest it should close again with a bang, one of them propped it ajar with the spare lantern.
It was a crooked passage in which they now stood, and it gave them, fortunately, an opportunity for hiding themselves in their shadow. They hurried along some distance, their goloshes making no noise, until, by-and-by, they caught sight of a distant light and heard sounds of merriment.
The crooked passage ended in a large cavern, which had been mined in every direction by the industrious dwarfs. It was now full of the small people. They had formed a ring, hand in hand, and danced to a merry tune. In their midst was the maker of ghosts; his coat was off, and he was already hard at work wielding his pick with might and main at a hole in the ground, while at his feet was a growing heap of experience. The sweat poured from his brow with his exertions, yet if he stopped but a moment to rest, the dwarf king beat him with a knotted whip. There was not the slightest doubt that he was carrying
