When the Wizard parted from his sister, he believed that she was hopelessly in his power, but as he proceeded on his way, he began to recall to himself how defiantly she had borne herself at the last, and with what confidence she had spoken. He remembered, too, how often she had baffled and eluded him before he had imprisoned her, and he knew that it was not entirely impossible that she might do so again. Could she but release herself from the deep darkness that surrounded her, all her own magic would return to her, and then, in spite of all his guards, she might be able by means of one of her clever tricks, to make her way to liberty. Thinking of these things, he reached a bend in the corridor where two ways met. The one went directly on to the Cave Hall, but the other led away into that remote and dangerous part of the cavern where lay the Pit of Fumes. Thither he was wont to go to practice his most secret arts. No Imps ever dared to tread that way, for it was well known that none but himself could pass over it in safety. He paused, for he suddenly bethought himself of how easily he could, by a stroke of enchantment, close with a wall the way to the Cave Hall and leave only that one open which led to the Pit of Fumes. Then if by some strange means his sister should contrive to escape from her dungeon, she would unsuspectingly go on to the Pit of Fumes. This she would be unable to pass, and would, therefore, be forced to return to the prison that she had left. The Wizard laughed aloud, for the thought pleased him well. He determined to prepare this trap for her at once. Abruptly he bade the Imps to rest their lanterns. They did so and stood motionless with eyes fixed on their master. The Wizard bent on them his sternest gaze. “Let none dare to look upon that which I am about to do,” he commanded. Immediately his slaves fell upon their knees, and with eyes fast shut and heads bowed to the dust, meekly awaited his pleasure. It was as if they held their very breath, so deep was the silence of the Cave. From beneath his cloak the Wizard drew his jet black wand. He waved it toward the walls and repeated, in a voice so low that none but himself could hear them, strange words of enchantment. Under their spell, the Cave walls began to draw slowly together, and before long they stood firmly closed across the way by whence he had come. Replacing his wand, the Wizard turned to where his servants still knelt with guarded eyes. “Arise, and go forward,” he commanded them. With one accord they sprang to their feet, and without one glance behind to discover what their master had done, they went rapidly ahead of him. While the Wizard departed in content, Prince Ember made ready to open the dungeon of the Shadow Witch so that she might go free. With her at his side he stood before the thick wall that barred the way to the corridor. He laid his hand upon his fairy sword, and unsheathed it. It glowed and burned with living fire.