How far he was carried Timothy Tuttle never knew, but it seemed to him a very long distance. When he found himself again at liberty, he was lying on the bare ground in the cold moonlight. He sprang up, and saw all the little Imps standing in a circle around him, bowing and nodding with great good-humour.
He looked about. He found himself on an open plain, surrounded by forests. Nothing was in sight except a very large Gothic building in the centre of the plain. It was old, but a larger and more magnificent building Timothy had never seen. Its pointed roof rose to the skies, and stained-glass windows adorned its gray stone walls. The turrets and towers were beautifully carved, and the walls were hung here and there with green ivy. But the building was falling into decay. Some of the windows were broken, and some of the stones crumbling to ruin. A few of the arches were fallen, and the roof threatened to cave in.
Timothy Tuttle turned from surveying this building, to look at his grinning companions.
They all pointed over their shoulders with their thumbs at the great door of the building.
“But what if I will not go?” he asked, in as cool and determined a voice as he could assume.
At this all the little Imps began to caper about in great glee, singing:--
“_Mortals rash Who disobey, Little Imps Will bear away! If they still Refuse to go, If they dare To answer, ‘No!’ Take a pin, And stick it in!_”
At that instant Timothy Tuttle felt a sharp pain in one of his legs, and he could not help crying out. He knew that there was nothing to do but to obey, so he turned and walked toward the building, while the quick patter of tiny feet and the flutter of wings told him that the little Imps were close behind.
Only once did he turn his head, and his ears were greeted with:--
When Timothy had entered the door, he found that the interior of the building was one great room. Around its sides were galleries rising tier above tier, and under the galleries were recesses and alcoves; still, it was all one room.
From the centre of the arched ceiling hung a splendid chandelier, with a thousand lamps. But most of the lights were extinguished, and the few that were burning, flickered and smoked so badly that the building was dimly lighted.