"What if they should have a light," thought Daimur. "All would be lost, for in this place they could easily make me a prisoner." They entered the room. As they did so the Old Witch hesitated, and Daimur noticed her voice change, but all she did was to close the door leading into the hall. Then still talking the two made their way in the dark across the room and out of the other door. When their footsteps had ceased to echo down the corridor, for they walked noisily, Daimur came out of his corner and tried the door leading into the long passage. It was locked. Then he tried the door which led to the main hall, but that too was locked. He was trapped. Just at that moment a faint spicy smell came to his nostrils. He stood still, wondering what it could be. It grew stronger and stronger and sweeter and sweeter, until he could feel himself growing sleepy. Alas, he knew now that the witches had seen him. In vain he looked around for some means of escape. There was none. His cap could tell him nothing. He beat upon the doors, but his strength soon failed him, and he fell down in a stupor. How long he lay there he did not know, but when he awoke at length a faint light was shining into the room from a small iron grating close up to the ceiling, and the spicy smell was gone. The first thing he did was to feel for his cap and spectacles which he had had on when he fell asleep. THEY WERE GONE. Poor Daimur. For the first time since the beginning of his adventure he felt completely helpless, and with a very dejected countenance indeed he sat down to await the next happening. He had not been sitting there for more than half an hour when a light step sounded in the inner hall and stopped at the door. A key was turned in the lock and a voice said: "Oh, bother this lock." The key rattled again, the door opened rather suddenly, and there entered--not a witch as Daimur expected--but the loveliest lady he had ever seen. She had big blue eyes, a lovely complexion, though it was a trifle pale as if from being indoors a long time, and golden hair that hung over her shoulders in long ringlets. Her gown was of a deep blue silk that almost matched her eyes. At sight of Daimur she stood still in astonishment, then came quickly towards him. "Oh, poor young man," she cried. "Surely you are not a prisoner too." "I am afraid I am," answered Daimur sadly, as he gazed at the beautiful lady, "but tell me, do you know whether Queen Amy is here? I must find her." "I am that unhappy Queen," answered the lady. "Can it be that my faithful subjects have sent you to seek me, sir?" "Rather I have come because I wished to undo in a small measure the mischief that the Evil Magician did," and Daimur hurriedly told her something of his adventure, and finished by wishing he had his cap and spectacles back, as he was afraid without them they would have great difficulty in escaping.