TWILIGHT LAND

“T am going into the town.”

“No, you are not.”

“Why not?”

“ Because no stranger entershere. Yonder is the path-
way. You must take that if you would enter the town.”

“Very well,” said the beggar, ‘“‘I would just-as lief go
into the town that way as another.”

So off he marched without another word. On and on
he went along the narrow pathway until at last he came
to a little gate of polished brass. Over the gate were
written these words, in great letters as red as blood:

“ Who Enters here Shall Surely Die.”

Many and many a man besides the beggar had travelled
that path and looked up at those letters, and when he had
read them had turned and gone away again. But the
beggar neither turned nor went away; because why, he
could neither read nor write a word, and so the blood-red
letters had no fear for him. Up he marched to the brazen
gate, as boldly as though it had been a kitchen door, and
rap! tap! tap! he knocked upon it. He waited awhile,
but nobody came. Rap! tap! tap! he knocked again;
and then, after a little while, for the third time—Rap!
tap! tap! Then instantly the gate swung open and he

entered. So soon as he had crossed the threshold it was
banged to behind him again, just as the garden gate had
been when the king had first sent for him. He found
himself in a long, dark entry, and at the end of it another
door, and over it the same words, written in blood-red
letters :

“ Beware! Beware! Who Enters here Shall
Surely Die!”

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