The voyage was a good voyage,only all the time Keawe was holding in his breath,for he had sworn he would utter no more wishes,and take no more favours from the devil.The time was up when they got back.The architect told them that the house was ready,and Keawe and Lopaka took a passage in the HALL,and went down Kona way to view the house,and see if all had been done fitly according to the thought that was in Keawe's mind.
Now the house stood on the mountain side,visible to ships.Above,the forest ran up into the clouds of rain;below,the black lava fell in cliffs,where the kings of old lay buried.A garden bloomed about that house with every hue of flowers;and there was an orchard of papaia on the one hand and an orchard of breadfruit on the other,and right in front,toward the sea,a ship's mast had been rigged up and bore a flag.As for the house,it was three storeys high,with great chambers and broad balconies on each.The windows were of glass,so excellent that it was as clear as water and as bright as day.All manner of furniture adorned the chambers.Pictures hung upon the wall in golden frames:pictures of ships,and men fighting,and of the most beautiful women,and of singular places;nowhere in the world are there pictures of so bright a colour as those Keawe found hanging in his house.As for the knick-knacks,they were extraordinary fine;chiming clocks and musical boxes,little men with nodding heads,books filled with pictures,weapons of price from all quarters of the world,and the most elegant puzzles to entertain the leisure of a solitary man.