“Take them off?” said the raven; “oh dear no.  When you don’t need them they won’t incommode you, and they’ll be all ready for the next time.  Besides, though it mayn’t seem so to you, these steps are not so easy to get up as you think.  At least they wouldn’t be without the wall-climbers.”

With them, however, nothing could have been easier.  Hugh found himself in no time at the top of the flight of steps in front of the door from which the raven had come out.  The peacocks, now he was close to them, seemed to him larger than ordinary peacocks, but the brilliant colours of their feathers, which he had noticed in the bright moonlight, had disappeared.  It was light enough for him to distinguish their figures, but that was all.

“I must leave you now,” said the raven; “but you will get on very well.  Only remember these two things—­don’t be impatient, and don’t take off your wall-climbers; and if you are very much at a loss about anything, call me.”

“How shall I call you?” asked Hugh.

“Whistle softly three times.  Now, I think it is time to light up.  Peacocks.”

The peacocks, one on each side of the door, came forward solemnly, saluting the raven with the greatest respect.

“Ring,” said the raven, and to Hugh’s surprise each peacock lifted up a claw, and taking hold of a bell-rope, of which there were two, one on each side of the door, pulled them vigorously.  No sound ensued, but at the instant there burst forth the same soft yet brilliant light which had so delighted Hugh when he first awoke, and which he now discovered to come not from the moon, still shining in gently at the window of the tapestry room down below, but from those of the castle at whose door he was standing.  He had never before noticed how many windows it had.  Jeanne and he had only remarked the door at the top of the steps, but now the light which flowed out from above him was so clear and brilliant that it seemed as if the whole castle must be transparent.  Hugh stood in eager expectation of what was to happen next, and was on the point of speaking to the raven, standing, as he thought, beside him, when a sudden sound made him turn round.  It was that of the castle door opening, and at the same moment the two peacocks, coming forward, pushed him gently, one at each side, so that Hugh found himself obliged to enter.  He was by no means unwilling to do so, but he gave one last look round for his conductor.  He was gone.

For about half a second Hugh felt a little frightened and bewildered.

“I wish Dudu had come with me,” he said.  But almost before he had time to think the wish, what he saw before him so absorbed his attention that he forgot everything else.