The moon had disappeared, and snow was falling rapidly, and the sound of distant chimes reminded Davy that it must be past midnight, and that Christmas-day had come. Solomon's eyes were shining in the darkness like a pair of coach-lamps, and, as Davy sat looking at them, a ruddy light began to glow between them, and presently the figure of the Goblin appeared, dressed in scarlet, as when he had first come. The reddish light was shining through his stomach again, as though the coals had been fanned into life once more, and as Davy gazed at him it grew brighter and stronger, and finally burst into a blaze. Then Solomon's eyes gradually took the form of great brass balls, and presently the figure of the long-lost Colonel came into view just above them, affectionately hugging his clock. He was gazing mournfully down upon the poor Goblin, who was now blazing like a dry chip, and as the light of the fire grew brighter and stronger the trees about slowly took the shape of an old-fashioned fireplace with a high mantel-shelf above it, and then Davy found himself curled up in the big easy-chair, with his dear old grandmother bending over him, and saying gently, "Davy! Davy! Come and have some dinner, my dear!" In fact, the Believing Voyage was ended. [Illustration] End of Project Gutenberg's Davy and The Goblin, by Charles E. Carryl