When I once had my hand on his door, the warm tide of courage began again to flow from my heart.

I opened this door too very quietly, for was not the dragon asleep down below?
"Papa! papa!" I cried, in an eager whisper.

"Are you awake, papa ?" No voice came in reply, and the place was yet more silent than the night or the hall.

He must be asleep.

I was afraid to call louder.