The Golden Key 🔑 Part 2 of 2 | Classic Sleep Story

Tonight, Mossy and Tangle’s journey concludes in the final half of George MacDonald’s classic fairy tale, The Golden Key. After discovering the key and taking refuge in the deep forest, our two heroes finally reunite to discover the place they have longed for since they were young.

Behind the Story: When MacDonald was just a boy, his mother passed away from tuberculosis. Sadly, as he grew up, several of his brothers died from the exact same illness. Because he was surrounded by so much early loss, he made it his life’s mission to look for comfort in hard times—and to help his readers find that exact same peace through his writing.

Listen First: For the full narrative context, please listen to The Golden Key (Part 1) before starting this final chapter.

⏱️ Timeline:

• 00:03 – Intro & Relaxation
• 03:33 – Story Begins

🌙 Thank you for listening to Chapter & Pillow: Where Stories Drift into Sleep. This podcast is always ad-free and read by a real human voice. We are honored to be named one of the top sleep podcasts of 2026 by PodRanker.

💌 Connect with me: Write anytime at chapterandpillow@gmail.com with your feedback, suggestions, or public domain story requests.

⭐ Support the show: If these stories help you fall asleep, please leave a rating or review on iHeart Radio, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify. Your support helps other listeners find my podcast! Thank you so much for your help. 

So close your eyes, settle in, and sweet dreams. I'll "see" you next time. Kathleen

Transcript

Intro and Relaxation

SPEAKER_00 0:04

Good evening and welcome back to Chapter and Pillow, where stories drift into sleep. I'm Kathleen. Remember, this space is always ad-free, read by my own human voice, and dedicated to the quiet comfort of classic literature. Tonight we conclude The Golden Key by George McDonald. In part one, Maussey discovered a golden key at the end of the rainbow, while Tangle wandered deep into the forest and found refuge with the mysterious kindly woman. At last their paths joined, and they set out hand in hand to discover the lock that Maussie's key was meant to open. In this final part, their journey carries them through a strange and dreamlike world, where time moves differently, and every path seems to lead towards something just beyond understanding. McDonald never explains every mystery. Instead, he invites us to wander through it quietly, allowing the images and ideas to unfold like a dream. But before we continue their journey, let's close the book on your day. Whatever you accomplished today, and whatever remains unfinished, it's complete for now. The world will keep turning without your active attention for the next few hours. There's nothing to solve or to do except focus on the story. So let your eyes grow heavy. Relax the tension in your forehead. Loosen your jaw. Take a slow deep breath in. Hold it for just a moment. And let it out through your mouth. Let's do that one more time. Take a slow deep breath in. Hold it. And let it out slowly through your mouth. If your mind wanders back to your day, gently guide it back toward my voice. Or simply follow the rhythm of the words. Let the weight of your day settle into your mattress. It's time to rest.

Story Begins

SPEAKER_00 3:43

They soon learned enough of their language to ask them necessary questions. The squirrels were always friendly, and gave them nuts out of their own hordes, but the bees were selfish and rude, justifying themselves on the ground that Tangle and Mossy were not subjects of their queen, and charity must begin at home, though indeed they had not one drone in their poorhouse at the time. Even the blinking moles would fetch them an earthnut or a truffle now and then, talking as if their mouths as well as their eyes and ears were full of cotton wool or their own velvety fur. By the time they got out of the forest they were very fond of each other, and Tangle was not in the least sorry that her grandmother had sent her away with Mossy. At length the trees grew smaller and stood farther apart, and the ground began to rise, and it got more and more steep till the trees were all left behind, and the two were climbing a narrow path with rocks on each side. Suddenly they came upon a rude doorway by which they entered a narrow gallery cut in the rock. It grew darker and darker, till it was pitch dark, and they had to feel their way. At length the light began to return, and at last they came out upon a narrow path on the face of a lofty precipice. This path went winding down the rock to a wide plain, circular in shape and surrounded on all sides by mountains. Those opposite to them were a great way off and towered to an awful height, shooting up sharp blue, ice enameled pinnacles. An utter silence reigned where they stood. Not even the sound of water reached them. Looking down they could not tell whether the valley below was a grassy plain or a great still lake. They had never seen any place look like it. The way to it was difficult and dangerous, but down a narrow path they went and reached the bottom in safety. They found it composed of soft, smooth, light colored sandstone, undulating in parts, but mostly level. It was no wonder to them now that they had not been able to tell what it was, for this surface was everywhere crowded with shadows. It was a sea of shadows. The mass was chiefly made up of the shadows of leaves innumerable, of all lovely and imaginative forms waving to and fro, floating and quivering in the breath of a breeze whose motion was unfelt, whose sound was unheard. No forest clothed the mountainsides, no trees were anywhere to be seen, and yet the shadows of the leaves, branches, and stems of all various trees covered the valley as far as their eyes could reach. They soon spied the shadows of flowers mingled with those of the leaves, and now and then the shadow of a bird with open beak and throat distended with song. At times would appear the forms of strange, graceful creatures running up and down the shadow bowls and along the branches to disappear in the wind tossed foliage. As they walked, they waited knee deep in the lovely lake, for the shadows were not merely lying on the surface of the ground, but heaped up above it like substantial forms of darkness, as if they had been cast upon a thousand different planes of the air. Tangle and Mossy often lifted their heads and gazed upwards to descri whence the shadows came, but they could see nothing more than a bright mist spread above them, higher than the tops of the mountains which stood clear against it. No forest, no leaves, no birds were visible. After a while they reached more open spaces where the shadows were thinner, and came even to portions over which shadows only flitted, leaving them clear for such as might follow. Now a wonderful form, half birdlike, half human, would float across on outspread sailing pinions. Anon an exquisite shadow group of gamboling children would be followed by the loveliest female form. And that again by the grand stride of a titanic shape, each disappearing in the surrounding press of shadowy foliage. Sometimes a profile of unspeakable beauty or grandeur would appear for a moment and vanish. Sometimes they seemed lovers that passed linked arm in arm, sometimes father and son, sometimes brothers in loving contest, sometimes sisters entwined in gracefulest community of complex form. Sometimes wild horses would tear across, free, or bestrowed by noble shadows of ruling men. But some of the things which pleased them most they never knew how to describe. About the middle of the plain they sat down to rest in the heart of a heap of shadows. After sitting for a while each looking up saw the other in tears. They were each longing after the country whence the shadows fell. We must find the country from which the shadows come, said Mossy. We must, dear Mossy, responded Tangle. What if your golden key should be the key to it? Ah, that would be grand, returned Mossy. But we must rest here for a little, and then we shall be able to cross the plain before night. So he lay down on the ground and about him on every side, and over his head was the constant play of the wonderful shadows. He could look through them and see the one behind the other, till they mixed in a mass of darkness. Tangled too lay admiring and wondering and longing after the country whence the shadows came. When they were rested they rose and pursued their journey. How long they were in crossing this plain I cannot tell. But before night Mossy's hair was streaked with grey, and Tangle had gotten wrinkles on her forehead. As evening drew on the shadows fell deeper and rose higher. At length they reached a place where they rose above their heads and made all dark around them. Then they took hold of each other's hand and walked on in silence and in some dismay. They felt the gathering darkness and something strangely solemn besides, and the beauty of the shadow ceased to delight them. All at once Tangle found that she had not a hold of Mossy's hand, though when she lost it she could not tell. Mossy, Mossy, she cried aloud in terror, but no Mossy replied. A moment after the shadows sank to her feet and down under her feet, and the mountains rose before her. She turned towards the gloomy region she had left and called once more upon Mossy. There the gloom lay tossing and heaving, a dark, stormy, foamless sea of shadows, but no Mossy rose out of it, or came climbing up the hill on which she stood. She threw herself down and wept in despair. Suddenly she remembered that the beautiful lady had told them, if they lost each other in a country of which she could not remember the name, they were not to be afraid, but to go straight on. And besides, she said to herself, Mossy has the golden key, and so no harm will come to him, I do believe. She rose from the ground and went on. Before long she arrived at a precipice in the face of which a stair was cut. When she had ascended halfway the stair ceased, and the path led straight into the mountain. She was afraid to enter, and turning again toward the stair, grew giddy at the sight of the depth beneath her, and was forced to throw herself down in the mouth of the cave. When she opened her eyes she saw a beautiful little creature with wings standing beside her, waiting. I know you, said Tangle. You are my fish. Yes, but I am a fish no longer. I am an erranth now. What is that? asked Tangle. What you see I am, answered the sheep, and I am come to lead you through the mountain. Oh thank you, dear fish. Oh Erinth, I mean, returned Tangle, rising. Thereupon the Erinth took to his wings and flew on through the long, narrow passage, reminding Tangle very much of the way he had swum on before her when he was a fish. And the moment his white wings moved, they began to throw off a continuous shower of sparks of all colours, which lighted up the passage before them. All at once he vanished, and Tangle heard a low, sweet sound, quite different from the rush and crackle of his wings. Before her was an open arch, and through it came light mixed with the sound of sea waves. She hurried out and fell tired and happy upon the yellow sand of the shore. There she lay half asleep with weariness and rest, listening to the low plash and retreat of the tiny waves, which seemed ever enticing the land to leave off being land and become sea. And as she lay, her eyes were fixed upon the foot of a great rainbow standing far away against the sky on the other side of the sea. At length she fell fast asleep. When she awoke she saw an old man with long white hair down to his shoulders, leaning upon a stick covered with green buds, and so bending over her. What do you want here, beautiful woman? he asked. Am I beautiful? I am so glad, answered Tangle, rising. My grandmother is beautiful. Yes but what do you want? he repeated kindly. I think I want you. Are not you the old man of the sea? I am. Then grandmother says have you any more fishes ready for her? We will go and see, my dear, answered the old man, speaking yet more kindly than before. And I can do something for you, can I not? Yes, show me the way up to the country from which the shadows fall, said Tangle. For there she hoped to find Mossy again. Ah, indeed that would be worth doing, said the old man. But I cannot, for I do not know the way myself. But I will send you to the old man of the earth. Perhaps he can tell you. He is much older than I am. Leaning on his staff he conducted her along the shore to a steep rock that looked like a petrified ship turned upside down. The door of it was the rudder of a great vessel ages ago at the bottom of the sea. Immediately within the door was a stair in the rock, down which the old man went, and Tangle followed. At the bottom the old man had his house, and there he lived. As soon as she entered it, Tangle heard a strange noise, unlike anything she had ever before heard. She soon found that it was the fishes talking. She tried to understand what they said, but their speech was so old fashioned and rude and undefined that she could not make much of it. I will go and see about those fishes for my daughter, said the old man of the sea. And moving a slide in the wall of his house, he first looked out, and then tapped upon a thick piece of crystal that filled the round opening. Tangle came up behind him, and peeping through the window into the heart of the great deep green ocean, saw the most curious creatures, some very ugly, all very odd, and with especially queer mouths, swimming about everywhere, above and below, but all coming towards the window in answer to the tap of the old man of the sea. Only a few could get their mouths against the glass, but those who were floating miles away yet turned their heads toward it. The old man looked through the whole flock carefully for some minutes, and then, turning to Tangle, said I am sorry, I've not got one ready yet. I want more time than she does, but I will send some as soon as I can. He then shut the slide. Presently a great noise arose in the sea. The old man opened the slide again and tapped on the glass, whereupon the fishes were all as still asleep. They were only talking about you, he said, and they do speak such nonsense. Tomorrow, he continued, I must show you the way to the old man of the earth. He lives a long way from here. Do let me go at once, said Tangle. No, that is not possible. You must come this way first. He led her to a hole in the wall which she had not observed before. It was covered with green leaves and white blossoms of a creeping plant. Only white blossoming plants can grow under the sea, said the old man. In there you will find a bath in which you must lie till I call you. Tango went in and found a smaller room or cave, in the further corner of which was a great basin hollowed out of a rock, and half full of the clearest seawater. Little streams were constantly running into it from cracks in the wall of the cavern. It was polished quite smooth inside, and had a carpet of yellow sand in the bottom of it. Large green leaves and white flowers of various plants crowded up and over it, draping and covering it almost entirely. No sooner was she undressed and lying in the bath than she began to feel as if the water were sinking into her, and she was receiving all the good of sleep without undergoing its forgetfulness. She felt the good coming all the time, and she grew happier and more hopeful than she had been since she lost Mossy. But she could not help thinking how very sad it was for a poor old man to live there all alone, and have to take care of a whole seaful of stupid and riotous fishes. After about an hour, as she thought, she heard his voice calling her and rose out of the bath. All the fatigue and aching of her long journey had vanished. She was as whole and strong and well as if she had slept for seven days. Returning to the opening that led into the other part of the house, she started back with amazement, for through it she saw the form of a grand man with a majestic and beautiful face waiting for her. Come, he said, I see you are ready. She entered with reverence. Where's the old man of the sea? she asked humbly. There is no one here but me, he answered, smiling. Some people call me the old man of the sea. Others have another name for me, and are terribly frightened when they meet me, taking a walk by the shore. Therefore I avoid being seen by them, for they are so afraid that they never see what I really am. You see me now, but I must show you the way to the old man of the earth. He led her into the cave where the bath was, and there she saw, in the opposite corner, a second opening in the rock. Go down that stair, and it will bring you to him, said the old man of the sea. With humble thanks Tangle took her leave. She went down the winding stair till she began to fear there was no end to it. Still down and down it went, rough and broken, with springs of water bursting out of the rocks and running down the steps beside her. It was quite dark about her, and yet she could see, for after being in that bath, people's eyes always give out a light they can see by. There were no creeping things in the way. All was safe and pleasant, though so dark and damp and deep. At last there was not one step more, and she found herself in a glimmering cave. On a stone in the middle of it sat a figure with its back towards her, the figure of an old man bent double with age. From behind she could see his white beard spread out on the rocky floor in front of him. He did not move as she entered, so she passed round that she might stand before him and speak to him. The moment she looked in his face, she saw that he was a youth of marvelous beauty. He sat entranced with delight of what he beheld in a mirror of something like silver, which lay on the floor at his feet, and which from behind she had taken for his white beard. He sat on heedless of her presence, pale with the joy of his vision. She stood and watched him. At length all trembling she spoke, but her voice made no sound, yet the youth lifted up his head. He showed no surprise, however, at seeing her, only smiled a welcome. Are you the old man of the earth? Tangle had said. And the youth answered, and Tangle heard him, though not with her ears. I am, what can I do for you? Tell me the way to the country whence the shadows fall Ah, that I do not know. I only dream about it myself. I see its shadows sometimes in my mirror. The way to it I do not know, but I think the old man of the fire must know. He is much older than I am. He is the oldest man of all. Where does he live? I will show you the way to his place. I never saw him myself. So saying the young man rose and then stood for a while gazing at Tangle. I wish I could see that country too, he said, but I must mind my work. He led her to the side of the cave and told her to lay her ear against the wall. What do you hear? he asked. I hear, answered Tangle, the sound of a great water running inside the rock. That river runs down to the dwelling of the oldest man of all, the old man of the fire. I wish I could go to see him, but I must mind my work. That river is the only way to him. Then the old man of the earth stooped over the floor of the cave, raised a huge stone from it, and left it leaning. It disclosed a great hole that went plum down. That is the way, he said. But there are no stairs. You must throw yourself in. There is no other way. She turned and looked him full in the face, stood so for a whole minute as she thought. It was a whole year, then threw herself headlong into the hole. When she came to herself, she found herself gliding down fast and deep. Her head was underwater, but that did not signify, for when she thought about it, she could not remember that she had breathed once since her bath in the cave of the old man of the sea. When she lifted up her head, a sudden and fierce heat struck her, and she sank it again instantly and went sweeping on. Gradually the stream grew shallower. At length she could hardly keep her head under. Then the water could carry her no farther. She rose from the channel and went step for step down the burning descent. The water ceased altogether. She felt scorched to the bone, but it did not touch her strength. It grew hotter and hotter. She said I can bear it no longer yet she went on. At the long last the stair ended at a rude archway in an all but glowing rock. Through this archway Tangle fell exhausted into a cool mossy cave. The floor and walls were covered with moss, green, soft, and damp. A little stream spouted from a rent in the rock and fell into a basin of moss. She plunged her face into it and drank. Then she lifted her head and looked around. Then she rose and looked again. She saw no one in the cave, but the moment she stood upright, she had a marvelous sense that she was in the secret of the earth and all its ways. Everything she had seen or learned from books, all that her grandmother had said or sung to her, all the talk of the beasts, birds, and fishes, all that had happened to her on her journey with Mossy, and since then in the heart of the earth with the old man and the older man, all was plain. She understood it all, and saw that everything meant the same thing, though she could not have put it into words again. The next moment she described in a corner of the cave a little naked child sitting on the moss. He was playing with balls of various colors and sizes, which he disposed in strange figures upon the floor beside him. And now Tangle felt there was something in her knowledge which was not in her understanding, for she knew there must be an infinite meaning in the change in sequence and individual forms of the figures into which the child arranged the balls, as well as in the varied harmonies of their colors. But what it all meant she could not tell. He went on busily, tirelessly, playing his solitary game without looking up, or seeming to know that there was a stranger in his deep withdrawn cell. Diligently as a lacemaker shifts her bobbins, he shifted and arranged his balls. Flashes of meaning would now pass from them to Tangle, and now again all would not be merely obscure, but utterly dark. She stood looking for a long time, for there was fascination in the sight, and the longer she looked, the more an indescribable vague intelligence went on rousing itself in her mind. For seven years she had stood there, watching the naked child with his colored balls, and it seemed to her like seven hours, when all at once the shape the balls took, she knew not why, reminded her of the valley of shadows, and she spoke. Where is the old man of the fire? said she. Here I am, answered the child, rising and leaving his balls on the moss. What can I do for you? There was such an awfulness of absolute repose on the face of the child. The tangle stood dumb before him. He had no smile, but the love in his large grey eyes was deep as the center, and with the repose there lay on his face a shimmer as of moonlight, which seemed as if any moment it might break into such a ravishing smile as would cause the beholder to weep himself to death. But the smile never came, and the moonlight lay there unbroken, for the heart of the child was too deep for any smile to reach from it to his face. Are you the oldest man of all? Tangle at length, although filled with awe, ventured to ask. Yes I am. I am very, very old. I am able to help you, I know. I can help everybody. As the child drew near and looked up in her face, so that she burst into tears. Can you tell me the way to the country the shadows fall from? she sobbed. Yes, I know the way quite well. I go there myself sometimes. But you could not go my way. You are not old enough. I will show you how you can go. Do not send me out into the great heat again, prayed Tangle. I will not, answered the child. And he reached up and put his little cool hand on her heart. Now, he said, you can go. The fire will not burn you. Come. He led her from the cave and following him through another archway, she soon found herself in a vast desert of sand and rock. The sky of it was a rock lowering over them like solid thunderclouds, and the whole place was so hot that she saw in bright rivulets the yellow gold and white silver and red copper trickling molten from the rocks, but the heat never came near her. When they had gone some distance the child turned up a great stone and took something like an egg from under it. He next drew a long curved line in the sand with his finger and laid the egg in it. Then he spoke something Tangle could not understand. The egg broke, a small snake came out, and lying in the line in the sand grew and grew till he filled it. The moment he was thus full grown, he began to glide away, undulating like a sea wave. Follow that serpent, said the child, he will lead you the right way. Tangle followed the serpent, but she could not go far without looking back at the marvelous child. He stood alone in the midst of the glowing desert, beside a fountain of red flame that had burst forth at his feet, his naked whiteness glimmering a pale rosy red in the torrid fire. There he stood looking after her, till from the lengthening distance she could see him no more. The serpent went straight on, turning neither to the right nor left. Meantime Mossy had got out of the lake of shadows, and following his mournful, lonely way had reached the seashore. It was a dark stormy evening. The sun had set, the wind was blowing from the sea. The waves had surrounded the rock within which lay the old man's house. A deep water rolled between it and the shore, upon which a majestic figure was walking alone. Mossy went up to him and said Will you tell me where to find the old man of the sea? I'm the old man of the sea, the figure answered. I see a strong kingly man of middle age, returned Mossy. Then the old man looked at him more intently and said Your sight, young man, is better than that of most who take this way. The night is stormy. Come to my house and tell me what I can do for you. Mossy followed him. The waves flew from before the footsteps of the old man of the sea, and Mossy followed upon dry sand. When they reached the cave they sat down and gazed at each other. Now Mossy was an old man by this time. He looked much older than the old man of the sea, and his feet were very weary. After looking at him for a moment, the old man took him by the hand and led him into his inner cave. There he helped him to undress and laid him in the bath, and he saw that one of his hands Mossy did not open. What have you got in that hand? he asked. Mossy opened his hand, and there lay the golden key. Ah, said the old man, that accounts for your knowing me, and I know the way you have to go. I want to find the country whence the shadows fall, said Mossy. I dare say you do. So do I. But meantime one thing is certain. What is that key for, do you think? For a keyhole somewhere. But I don't know why I keep it. I never could find the keyhole. And I have lived a good while, I believe, said Mossy sadly. I'm not sure that I'm not old. I know my feet ache. Do they? said the old man, as if he really meant to ask the question. And Mossy, who was still lying in the bath, watched his feet for a moment before he replied. No they do not, he answered. Perhaps I am not old either. Get up and look at yourself in the water. He rose and looked at himself in the water, and there was not a grey hair on his head or a wrinkle on his skin. You have tasted of death now, said the old man. Is it good? It is good, said Mossy. It is better than life. No, said the old man. It is only more life. Your feet will make no holes in the water now. What do you mean? I will show you that presently. They returned. To the outer cave and sat and talked together for a long time. At length the old man of the sea rose and said to Mossy, Follow me. He led him up the stair again and opened another door. They stood on the level of the raging sea, looking towards the east. Across the waste of waters, against the bosom of a fierce black cloud, stood the foot of a rainbow glowing in the dark. This indeed is my way, said Mossy, as soon as he saw the rainbow and stepped out upon the sea. His feet made no holes in the water. He fought the wind and climbed the waves and went on towards the rainbow. The storm died away. A lovely day and a lovelier night followed. A cool wind blew over the wide plain of the quiet ocean, and still Mossy journeyed eastward. But the rainbow had vanished with the storm. Day after day he held on, and he thought he had no guide. He did not see how a shining fish under the waters directed his steps. He crossed the sea and came to a great precipice of rock, up which he could discover but one path. Nor did this lead him farther than halfway up the rock, where it ended on a platform. Here he stood and pondered. It could not be that the way stopped here. Else what was the path for? It was a rough path, not very plain, yet certainly a path. He examined the face of the rock. It was smooth as glass, but as his eyes kept roving hopelessly over it, something glittered, and he caught sight of a row of small sapphires. They bordered a little hole in the rock. The keyhole, he cried. He tried the key. It fitted. It turned. A great clang and clash as of iron bolts on huge brazen cauldrons echoed thunderously within. He drew out the key. The rock in front of him began to fall. He retreated from it as far as the breadth of the platform would allow. A great slab fell at his feet. In front was still the solid rock, with this one slab balling forward out of it. But the moment he stepped upon it, a second fell, just short of the edge of the first, making the next step of a stair, which thus kept dropping itself before him as he ascended into the heart of the precipice. It led him into a hall fit for such an approach, irregular and rude in formation, but floor, sides, pillars, and vaulted roof, all one mass of shining stones of every color that light can show. In the center stood seven columns, ranged from red to violet, and on the pedestal of one of them sat a woman, motionless, with her face bowed upon her knees. Seven years had she sat there waiting. She lifted her head as Mossy drew near. It was Tangle. Her hair had grown to her feet and was rippled like the windless sea on broad sands. Her face was beautiful like her grandmother's, and as still and peaceful as that of the old man of the fire. Her form was tall and noble, yet Mossy knew her at once. How beautiful you are, Tangle, he said in delight and astonishment. Am I? she returned. Oh I have waited for you so long. But you were the old man of the sea. No, you are like the old man of the earth. No, no, you are like the oldest man of all. You are like them all, and yet you are my own old Mossy. How did you come here? What did you do after I lost you? Did you find the keyhole? Have you got the key still? She had a hundred questions to ask him, and he a hundred more to ask her. They told each other all their adventures, and were as happy as man and woman could be, for they were younger and better, and stronger and wiser than they had ever been before. It began to grow dark, and they wanted more than ever to reach the country whence the shadows fall. So they looked about them for a way out of the cave. The door by which Mossy entered had closed again, and there was a half a mile of rock between them and the sea. Neither could Tangle find the opening in the floor by which the serpent had led her thither. They searched till it grew so dark that they could see nothing and gave it up. After a while, however, the cave began to glimmer again. The light came from the moon, but it did not look like moonlight, for it gleamed through those seven pillars in the middle and filled the place with all colors. And now Mossy saw there was a pillar beside the red one, which he had not observed before, and it was of the same new color that he had seen in the rainbow when he first saw it in the fairy forest, and on it he saw a sparkle of blue. It was the sapphires round the keyhole. He took his key. It turned in the lock to the sounds of Aeolian music. A door opened upon slow hinges and disclosed a winding stair within. The key vanished from his fingers. Tangle went up. Mossy followed. The door closed behind them. They climbed out of the earth, and still climbing rose above it. They were in the rainbow. Far abroad over ocean and land, they could see through its transparent walls the earth beneath their feet. Stairs beside stairs wound up together, and beautiful beings of all ages climbed along with them. They knew that they were going up to the country whence the shadows fall. And by this time, I think they must have got there.