While these thoughts had been passing through his mind he had been slowly feeling his way forward; but all at once he was brought to a stand by a sharp prick on the breast as if from the point of a levelled spear. 'Who comes?' said a harsh voice. 'Only me,' replied Raymond in his most conciliating tone. 'Have you the password?' demanded the voice again. Recollecting what the donkey-driver had told him, Raymond answered at a venture-- 'Yellow-cap!' 'Pass on, Yellow-cap!' said the voice. He passed on, hoping that his wanderings were now to end. But after a few steps he felt against his throat the smooth sharp edge of a sword, which caused him to start back with a cry. 'Who comes?' said a snarling voice. 'Yellow-cap!' Raymond replied. 'The number, Yellow-cap?' 'Seven!' hazarded Raymond. 'Pass on, Seven!' said the voice. Raymond stepped forward nervously, stumbled down an unexpected pair of steps, and all in a moment there was a brilliant dazzle of light close to his eyes. It vanished as suddenly as it came; but it had given him a fleeting impression of many grisly faces pressing around him on all sides, with fire-lit eyes all fixed upon his. On the succeeding darkness, which seemed more intense than ever, the image of these faces was still somehow discernible; while from amidst them came a hissing voice, which said-- 'Who comes?' 'Yellow-cap!' 'The number?' 'Seven!' 'The time?' 'Five!' 'Pass!' said the voice. And immediately (though how it happened he could not tell) Raymond found himself in a square, low-ceilinged, comfortable room, with a large lamp burning in the centre of the table, around which were seated six men, each with a long pipe in his mouth and a tankard of ale before him. CHAPTER VIII. THE MAGIC EYE. The six men arose, and each in turn, and then all together, uttered the words-- 'Welcome, Yellow-cap!' Then he among them who had the biggest nose and the most sweeping moustachios came forward, made Raymond a grave salute, and, taking him by the arm, led him to a chair at the head of the table. 'The tale of the Seven Brethren is at last complete,' said he. 'Hear! hear!' gruffly responded the others. 'Brother Yellow-cap,' continued the first speaker, 'let me introduce you to our Brotherhood. I am the Prime Maniac. He on your right is the Chancellor of the Jingle. Next to him is the Home Doggerel. At the foot of the table is the First Lord of the Seesaw. The Foreign Doggerel is next on the left. Next again the Lord Privy Gander. One and all of us are bound to aid you, abet you, and obey you, so long as you own and wear the yellow cap. Once more, welcome, Yellow-cap!' 'Welcome!' chimed in the Brethren; and they raised their tankards to their lips and emptied them at a draught. 'We do not call one another by our titles,' said the Lord Privy Gander. 'Nor by our names,' added the Chancellor of the Jingle. 'Nor by our surnames,' pursued the Home Doggerel.