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There was no mistaking what it was. Even though they had never heard the sound before, they knew it was the roaring of the lions.

And the second traveler began to grow afraid.

“Let us go around by another way,” he said. “Surely there are more paths than one to the king’s house.”

And though the other spread out before him the scroll on which the path was marked and read once more the message of the king: “Turn neither to the right nor to the left but follow the path and it will lead you safely to the House Beautiful, where a place is prepared for you,” he would pay no heed to it but turned away into a by-path and followed it out of sight.

The other traveler was forced to journey on the path alone, with the roaring of the lions in his ears and the shaking of the earth beneath his feet. Nor had he gone a furlong more when just ahead he spied the lions themselves. One on each side of the path they stood with flaming eyes and yawning mouths; and at the very sight of them the traveler’s heart beat quick and sharp and his feet faltered upon the way.

But his faith in the king’s word was greater than his fear. “Falter not, oh, feet! Fear not, oh, heart! There is safety in the path. The king himself has said it,” he cried as he pressed on.

And lo! and behold, when he had come to the lions he found that they were chained. Roar as they might and strive as they would, they could not touch those who walked in the path that the king had marked; and the traveler passed in safety.

Beyond the lions stood the House Beautiful, with walls of gold bright as the sun itself and gates of gleaming pearl. Its windows overlooked the world, its towers reached above the sky, and of its wonders not the half had ever been told him.

The traveler’s place was prepared for him, and the king was waiting to welcome him to his house; and he lived there in peace and joy forever after.