"As it should ha' been," replied the goldsmith. "Upon the very carpet, as one might say, where the sports are celebrated. My own identical words to Mr. Samuel, the--the gods forgive us!--the architect. 'But,' says he, 'Master Alworth, his majesty is bent on the purchase of this wretched old house.' And his majesty has a rare obstinate head-piece of his own, like the one they cut off his father's neck before him--heaven rest his soul! And so there's his fine house, and a mighty improper one too, in my poor judgment, for sport and pleasure, Mr. Samuel has made of it. Though, to give even him his due, you may go far before you find better turned arches than the supports of the cellars that run beneath the king's private apartments. "Which lie to the back of the house, if I mistake not," said Lee. "You do not. And cut off almost entirely from the rest of it, a perfect network of pillars, and arches beneath, that one might go losing one's self in, like any trapped mouse, if you didn't know the trick of them," added the goldsmith half absently, half as if amused by some suggested thought, and toying with an ancient-looking little twisted and chased bar of silver which hung upon the massive gold chain he wore round his neck. "Tho' that would scarcely be my case; for here I have an open Sesame, that, if I had a mind to't, would bring me straight into Hassan's Cave. In other words--" [Sidenote: Lawrence learns a secret.] "The king's own bed-chamber?" eagerly cried Lee. "Why, you are quite right," said Alworth, looking up with wide open astonished eyes. Was this young farmer such a dull-pated clodpole after all? "Though how you should guess--" "Oh! I have heard of such contrivances as these subterranean ways," said Lawrence carelessly. "Where does it lead from?" "Under your nose almost!" laughed Alworth, pointing to one of the large buttons, or bosses, carved on the intersections of the oaken framework of the wainscoting which lined the room. "The dog's face?" asked Lee, carefully noting his glance. "Nay, 'tis a sphinx's. And right well 'tis said she has guarded her secret for the three hundred years this house has been built." "So long?" "Ay. Just about the same time that the original foundations of what is now the king's palace were set. Some say that the lord of it, and my grandfather six or seven times removed, had dealings together in the black art,--but that is a way folks have of talking of honest traders when they happen to grow rich,--and that the two would meet together alone in the vaults at dead of night over their crucibles, to find out the secret of making gold." "Was he of your craft, Master Alworth?" asked Lawrence. "Ay; and a skilful master of it he must have been," said Alworth proudly, detaching the key from its chain and handing it to Lawrence for his inspection, "to have been able to cast such a pretty thing as this." [Sidenote: The sphinx's throat.]