THE STORY OF THE AMULET

by E. Nesbit

 TO Dr Wallis Budge of the British Museum as a small token of gratitude for his unfailing kindness and help in the making of it

CONTENTS

 1. The Psammead 2. The Half Amulet 3. The Past 4. Eight Thousand Years Ago 5. The Fight in the Village 6. The Way to Babylon 7. 'The Deepest Dungeon Below the Castle Moat' 8. The Queen in London 9. Atlantis 10. The Little Black Girl and Julius Caesar 11. Before Pharaoh 12. The Sorry-Present and the Expelled Little Boy 13. The Shipwreck on the Tin Islands 14. The Heart's Desire

CHAPTER 1. THE PSAMMEAD

There were once four children who spent their summer holidays in a whitehouse, happily situated between a sandpit and a chalkpit. One day theyhad the good fortune to find in the sandpit a strange creature. Its eyeswere on long horns like snail's eyes, and it could move them in and outlike telescopes. It had ears like a bat's ears, and its tubby body wasshaped like a spider's and covered with thick soft fur--and it had handsand feet like a monkey's. It told the children--whose names wereCyril, Robert, Anthea, and Jane--that it was a Psammead or sand-fairy. (Psammead is pronounced Sammy-ad. ) It was old, old, old, and itsbirthday was almost at the very beginning of everything. And it hadbeen buried in the sand for thousands of years. But it still kept itsfairylikeness, and part of this fairylikeness was its power to givepeople whatever they wished for. You know fairies have always been ableto do this. Cyril, Robert, Anthea, and Jane now found their wishes cometrue; but, somehow, they never could think of just the right things towish for, and their wishes sometimes turned out very oddly indeed. Inthe end their unwise wishings landed them in what Robert called 'a verytight place indeed', and the Psammead consented to help them out of itin return for their promise never never to ask it to grant them any morewishes, and never to tell anyone about it, because it did not want tobe bothered to give wishes to anyone ever any more. At the moment ofparting Jane said politely--

'I wish we were going to see you again some day. '

And the Psammead, touched by this friendly thought, granted the wish. The book about all this is called Five Children and It, and it ends upin a most tiresome way by saying--

'The children DID see the Psammead again, but it was not in the sandpit;it was--but I must say no more--'

The reason that nothing more could be said was that I had not then beenable to find out exactly when and where the children met the Psammeadagain. Of course I knew they would meet it, because it was a beast ofits word, and when it said a thing would happen, that thing happenedwithout fail. How different from the people who tell us about whatweather it is going to be on Thursday next, in London, the South Coast, and Channel!

The summer holidays during which the Psammead had been found andthe wishes given had been wonderful holidays in the country, and thechildren had the highest hopes of just such another holiday for the nextsummer. The winter holidays were beguiled by the wonderful happeningsof The Phoenix and the Carpet, and the loss of these two treasures wouldhave left the children in despair, but for the splendid hope of theirnext holiday in the country. The world, they felt, and indeed had somereason to feel, was full of wonderful things--and they were really thesort of people that wonderful things happen to. So they looked forwardto the summer holiday; but when it came everything was different, andvery, very horrid. Father had to go out to Manchuria to telegraph newsabout the war to the tiresome paper he wrote for--the Daily Bellower, or something like that, was its name. And Mother, poor dear Mother, wasaway in Madeira, because she had been very ill. And The Lamb--I mean thebaby--was with her. And Aunt Emma, who was Mother's sister, had suddenlymarried Uncle Reginald, who was Father's brother, and they had gone toChina, which is much too far off for you to expect to be asked to spendthe holidays in, however fond your aunt and uncle may be of you. Sothe children were left in the care of old Nurse, who lived in FitzroyStreet, near the British Museum, and though she was always very kind tothem, and indeed spoiled them far more than would be good for the mostgrown-up of us, the four children felt perfectly wretched, and whenthe cab had driven off with Father and all his boxes and guns and thesheepskin, with blankets and the aluminium mess-kit inside it, thestoutest heart quailed, and the girls broke down altogether, and sobbedin each other's arms, while the boys each looked out of one of the longgloomy windows of the parlour, and tried to pretend that no boy would besuch a muff as to cry. 

I hope you notice that they were not cowardly enough to cry till theirFather had gone; they knew he had quite enough to upset him withoutthat. But when he was gone everyone felt as if it had been trying not tocry all its life, and that it must cry now, if it died for it. So theycried. 

Tea--with shrimps and watercress--cheered them a little. The watercresswas arranged in a hedge round a fat glass salt-cellar, a tasteful devicethey had never seen before. But it was not a cheerful meal. 

After tea Anthea went up to the room that had been Father's, and whenshe saw how dreadfully he wasn't there, and remembered how every minutewas taking him further and further from her, and nearer and nearer tothe guns of the Russians, she cried a little more. Then she thought ofMother, ill and alone, and perhaps at that very moment wanting a littlegirl to put eau-de-cologne on her head, and make her sudden cups of tea, and she cried more than ever. And then she remembered what Mother hadsaid, the night before she went away, about Anthea being the eldestgirl, and about trying to make the others happy, and things like that. So she stopped crying, and thought instead. And when she had thought aslong as she could bear she washed her face and combed her hair, and wentdown to the others, trying her best to look as though crying were anexercise she had never even heard of. 

She found the parlour in deepest gloom, hardly relieved at all bythe efforts of Robert, who, to make the time pass, was pulling Jane'shair--not hard, but just enough to tease. 

'Look here, ' said Anthea. 'Let's have a palaver. ' This word dated fromthe awful day when Cyril had carelessly wished that there were RedIndians in England--and there had been. The word brought back memoriesof last summer holidays and everyone groaned; they thought of the whitehouse with the beautiful tangled garden--late roses, asters, marigold, sweet mignonette, and feathery asparagus--of the wilderness whichsomeone had once meant to make into an orchard, but which was now, as Father said, 'five acres of thistles haunted by the ghosts of babycherry-trees'. They thought of the view across the valley, where thelime-kilns looked like Aladdin's palaces in the sunshine, and theythought of their own sandpit, with its fringe of yellowy grasses andpale-stringy-stalked wild flowers, and the little holes in the cliffthat were the little sand-martins' little front doors. And they thoughtof the free fresh air smelling of thyme and sweetbriar, and the scent ofthe wood-smoke from the cottages in the lane--and they looked round oldNurse's stuffy parlour, and Jane said--

'Oh, how different it all is!'

It was. Old Nurse had been in the habit of letting lodgings, till Fathergave her the children to take care of. And her rooms were furnished 'forletting'. Now it is a very odd thing that no one ever seems to furnisha room 'for letting' in a bit the same way as one would furnish it forliving in. This room had heavy dark red stuff curtains--the colour thatblood would not make a stain on--with coarse lace curtains inside. Thecarpet was yellow, and violet, with bits of grey and brown oilcloth inodd places. The fireplace had shavings and tinsel in it. There wasa very varnished mahogany chiffonier, or sideboard, with a lock thatwouldn't act. There were hard chairs--far too many of them--with crochetantimacassars slipping off their seats, all of which sloped the wrongway. The table wore a cloth of a cruel green colour with a yellowchain-stitch pattern round it. Over the fireplace was a looking-glassthat made you look much uglier than you really were, however plain youmight be to begin with. Then there was a mantelboard with maroon plushand wool fringe that did not match the plush; a dreary clock like ablack marble tomb--it was silent as the grave too, for it had long sinceforgotten how to tick. And there were painted glass vases that never hadany flowers in, and a painted tambourine that no one ever played, andpainted brackets with nothing on them. 

 'And maple-framed engravings of the Queen, the Houses of Parliament, the Plains of Heaven, and of a blunt-nosed woodman's flat return. '

There were two books--last December's Bradshaw, and an odd volume ofPlumridge's Commentary on Thessalonians. There were--but I cannotdwell longer on this painful picture. It was indeed, as Jane said, verydifferent. 

'Let's have a palaver, ' said Anthea again. 

'What about?' said Cyril, yawning. 

'There's nothing to have ANYTHING about, ' said Robert kicking the leg ofthe table miserably. 

'I don't want to play, ' said Jane, and her tone was grumpy. 

Anthea tried very hard not to be cross. She succeeded. 

'Look here, ' she said, 'don't think I want to be preachy or a beast inany way, but I want to what Father calls define the situation. Do youagree?'

'Fire ahead, ' said Cyril without enthusiasm. 

'Well then. We all know the reason we're staying here is because Nursecouldn't leave her house on account of the poor learned gentleman on thetop-floor. And there was no one else Father could entrust to take careof us--and you know it's taken a lot of money, Mother's going to Madeirato be made well. '

Jane sniffed miserably. 

'Yes, I know, ' said Anthea in a hurry, 'but don't let's think about howhorrid it all is. I mean we can't go to things that cost a lot, but wemust do SOMETHING. And I know there are heaps of things you can see inLondon without paying for them, and I thought we'd go and see them. Weare all quite old now, and we haven't got The Lamb--'

Jane sniffed harder than before. 

'I mean no one can say "No" because of him, dear pet. And I thoughtwe MUST get Nurse to see how quite old we are, and let us go out byourselves, or else we shall never have any sort of a time at all. And Ivote we see everything there is, and let's begin by asking Nurse to giveus some bits of bread and we'll go to St James's Park. There are ducksthere, I know, we can feed them. Only we must make Nurse let us go byourselves. '

'Hurrah for liberty!' said Robert, 'but she won't. '

'Yes she will, ' said Jane unexpectedly. '_I_ thought about that thismorning, and I asked Father, and he said yes; and what's more he toldold Nurse we might, only he said we must always say where we wanted togo, and if it was right she would let us. '

'Three cheers for thoughtful Jane, ' cried Cyril, now roused at last fromhis yawning despair. 'I say, let's go now. '

So they went, old Nurse only begging them to be careful of crossings, and to ask a policeman to assist in the more difficult cases. But theywere used to crossings, for they had lived in Camden Town and knew theKentish Town Road where the trams rush up and down like mad at all hoursof the day and night, and seem as though, if anything, they would ratherrun over you than not. 

They had promised to be home by dark, but it was July, so dark would bevery late indeed, and long past bedtime. 

They started to walk to St James's Park, and all their pockets werestuffed with bits of bread and the crusts of toast, to feed the duckswith. They started, I repeat, but they never got there. 

Between Fitzroy Street and St James's Park there are a great manystreets, and, if you go the right way you will pass a great many shopsthat you cannot possibly help stopping to look at. The children stoppedto look at several with gold-lace and beads and pictures and jewelleryand dresses, and hats, and oysters and lobsters in their windows, andtheir sorrow did not seem nearly so impossible to bear as it had done inthe best parlour at No. 300, Fitzroy Street. 

Presently, by some wonderful chance turn of Robert's (who had been votedCaptain because the girls thought it would be good for him--and indeedhe thought so himself--and of course Cyril couldn't vote against himbecause it would have looked like a mean jealousy), they came into thelittle interesting criss-crossy streets that held the most interestingshops of all--the shops where live things were sold. There was one shopwindow entirely filled with cages, and all sorts of beautiful birds inthem. The children were delighted till they remembered how they had oncewished for wings themselves, and had had them--and then they felt howdesperately unhappy anything with wings must be if it is shut up in acage and not allowed to fly. 

'It must be fairly beastly to be a bird in a cage, ' said Cyril. 'Comeon!'

They went on, and Cyril tried to think out a scheme for making hisfortune as a gold-digger at Klondyke, and then buying all the cagedbirds in the world and setting them free. Then they came to a shop thatsold cats, but the cats were in cages, and the children could not helpwishing someone would buy all the cats and put them on hearthrugs, whichare the proper places for cats. And there was the dog-shop, and that wasnot a happy thing to look at either, because all the dogs were chainedor caged, and all the dogs, big and little, looked at the four childrenwith sad wistful eyes and wagged beseeching tails as if they were tryingto say, 'Buy me! buy me! buy me! and let me go for a walk with you; oh, do buy me, and buy my poor brothers too! Do! do! do!' They almost said, 'Do! do! do!' plain to the ear, as they whined; all but one big Irishterrier, and he growled when Jane patted him. 

'Grrrrr, ' he seemed to say, as he looked at them from the back cornerof his eye--'YOU won't buy me. Nobody will--ever--I shall die chainedup--and I don't know that I care how soon it is, either!'

I don't know that the children would have understood all this, only oncethey had been in a besieged castle, so they knew how hateful it is to bekept in when you want to get out. 

Of course they could not buy any of the dogs. They did, indeed, ask theprice of the very, very smallest, and it was sixty-five pounds--but thatwas because it was a Japanese toy spaniel like the Queen once had herportrait painted with, when she was only Princess of Wales. But thechildren thought, if the smallest was all that money, the biggest wouldrun into thousands--so they went on. 

And they did not stop at any more cat or dog or bird shops, but passedthem by, and at last they came to a shop that seemed as though it onlysold creatures that did not much mind where they were--such as goldfishand white mice, and sea-anemones and other aquarium beasts, andlizards and toads, and hedgehogs and tortoises, and tame rabbitsand guinea-pigs. And there they stopped for a long time, and fed theguinea-pigs with bits of bread through the cage-bars, and wonderedwhether it would be possible to keep a sandy-coloured double-lop in thebasement of the house in Fitzroy Street. 

'I don't suppose old Nurse would mind VERY much, ' said Jane. 'Rabbitsare most awfully tame sometimes. I expect it would know her voice andfollow her all about. '

'She'd tumble over it twenty times a day, ' said Cyril; 'now a snake--'

'There aren't any snakes, said Robert hastily, 'and besides, I nevercould cotton to snakes somehow--I wonder why. '

'Worms are as bad, ' said Anthea, 'and eels and slugs--I think it'sbecause we don't like things that haven't got legs. '

'Father says snakes have got legs hidden away inside of them, ' saidRobert. 

'Yes--and he says WE'VE got tails hidden away inside us--but it doesn'teither of it come to anything REALLY, ' said Anthea. 'I hate things thathaven't any legs. '

'It's worse when they have too many, ' said Jane with a shudder, 'thinkof centipedes!'

They stood there on the pavement, a cause of some inconvenience tothe passersby, and thus beguiled the time with conversation. Cyril wasleaning his elbow on the top of a hutch that had seemed empty when theyhad inspected the whole edifice of hutches one by one, and he was tryingto reawaken the interest of a hedgehog that had curled itself into aball earlier in the interview, when a small, soft voice just below hiselbow said, quietly, plainly and quite unmistakably--not in any squeakor whine that had to be translated--but in downright common English--

'Buy me--do--please buy me!'

Cyril started as though he had been pinched, and jumped a yard away fromthe hutch. 

'Come back--oh, come back!' said the voice, rather louder but stillsoftly; 'stoop down and pretend to be tying up your bootlace--I see it'sundone, as usual. '

Cyril mechanically obeyed. He knelt on one knee on the dry, hot dustypavement, peered into the darkness of the hutch and found himself faceto face with--the Psammead!

It seemed much thinner than when he had last seen it. It was dusty anddirty, and its fur was untidy and ragged. It had hunched itself up intoa miserable lump, and its long snail's eyes were drawn in quite tight sothat they hardly showed at all. 

'Listen, ' said the Psammead, in a voice that sounded as though it wouldbegin to cry in a minute, 'I don't think the creature who keeps thisshop will ask a very high price for me. I've bitten him more than once, and I've made myself look as common as I can. He's never had a glancefrom my beautiful, beautiful eyes. Tell the others I'm here--but tellthem to look at some of those low, common beasts while I'm talking toyou. The creature inside mustn't think you care much about me, or he'llput a price upon me far, far beyond your means. I remember in the dearold days last summer you never had much money. Oh--I never thought Ishould be so glad to see you--I never did. ' It sniffed, and shot out itslong snail's eyes expressly to drop a tear well away from its fur. 'Tellthe others I'm here, and then I'll tell you exactly what to do aboutbuying me. ' Cyril tied his bootlace into a hard knot, stood up andaddressed the others in firm tones--

'Look here, ' he said, 'I'm not kidding--and I appeal to your honour, ' anappeal which in this family was never made in vain. 'Don't look at thathutch--look at the white rat. Now you are not to look at that hutchwhatever I say. '

He stood in front of it to prevent mistakes. 

'Now get yourselves ready for a great surprise. In that hutch there'san old friend of ours--DON'T look!--Yes; it's the Psammead, the good oldPsammead! it wants us to buy it. It says you're not to look at it. Lookat the white rat and count your money! On your honour don't look!'

The others responded nobly. They looked at the white rat till they quitestared him out of countenance, so that he went and sat up on his hindlegs in a far corner and hid his eyes with his front paws, and pretendedhe was washing his face. 

Cyril stooped again, busying himself with the other bootlace andlistened for the Psammead's further instructions. 

'Go in, ' said the Psammead, 'and ask the price of lots of other things. Then say, "What do you want for that monkey that's lost its tail--themangy old thing in the third hutch from the end. " Oh--don't mind MYfeelings--call me a mangy monkey--I've tried hard enough to look likeone! I don't think he'll put a high price on me--I've bitten him eleventimes since I came here the day before yesterday. If he names a biggerprice than you can afford, say you wish you had the money. '

'But you can't give us wishes. I've promised never to have another wishfrom you, ' said the bewildered Cyril. 

'Don't be a silly little idiot, ' said the Sand-fairy in trembling butaffectionate tones, 'but find out how much money you've got between you, and do exactly what I tell you. '

Cyril, pointing a stiff and unmeaning finger at the white rat, so as topretend that its charms alone employed his tongue, explained matters tothe others, while the Psammead hunched itself, and bunched itself, and did its very best to make itself look uninteresting. Then the fourchildren filed into the shop. 

'How much do you want for that white rat?' asked Cyril. 

'Eightpence, ' was the answer. 

'And the guinea-pigs?'

'Eighteenpence to five bob, according to the breed. '

'And the lizards?'

'Ninepence each. '

'And toads?'

'Fourpence. Now look here, ' said the greasy owner of all this caged lifewith a sudden ferocity which made the whole party back hurriedly on tothe wainscoting of hutches with which the shop was lined. 'Lookee here. I ain't agoin' to have you a comin' in here a turnin' the whole placeouter winder, an' prizing every animile in the stock just for yourlarks, so don't think it! If you're a buyer, BE a buyer--but I neverhad a customer yet as wanted to buy mice, and lizards, and toads, andguineas all at once. So hout you goes. '

'Oh! wait a minute, ' said the wretched Cyril, feeling how foolishly yetwell-meaningly he had carried out the Psammead's instructions. 'Justtell me one thing. What do you want for the mangy old monkey in thethird hutch from the end?'

The shopman only saw in this a new insult. 

'Mangy young monkey yourself, ' said he; 'get along with your bloomingcheek. Hout you goes!'

'Oh! don't be so cross, ' said Jane, losing her head altogether, 'don'tyou see he really DOES want to know THAT!'

'Ho! does 'e indeed, ' sneered the merchant. Then he scratched his earsuspiciously, for he was a sharp business man, and he knew the ring oftruth when he heard it. His hand was bandaged, and three minutesbefore he would have been glad to sell the 'mangy old monkey' for tenshillings. Now--'Ho! 'e does, does 'e, ' he said, 'then two pun ten's myprice. He's not got his fellow that monkey ain't, nor yet his match, not this side of the equator, which he comes from. And the only one everseen in London. Ought to be in the Zoo. Two pun ten, down on the nail, or hout you goes!'

The children looked at each other--twenty-three shillings and fivepencewas all they had in the world, and it would have been merely three andfivepence, but for the sovereign which Father had given to them 'betweenthem' at parting. 'We've only twenty-three shillings and fivepence, 'said Cyril, rattling the money in his pocket. 

'Twenty-three farthings and somebody's own cheek, ' said the dealer, forhe did not believe that Cyril had so much money. 

There was a miserable pause. Then Anthea remembered, and said--

'Oh! I WISH I had two pounds ten. '

'So do I, Miss, I'm sure, ' said the man with bitter politeness; 'I wishyou 'ad, I'm sure!'

Anthea's hand was on the counter, something seemed to slide under it. She lifted it. There lay five bright half sovereigns. 

'Why, I HAVE got it after all, ' she said; 'here's the money, now let'shave the Sammy, . . . The monkey I mean. '

The dealer looked hard at the money, but he made haste to put it in hispocket. 

'I only hope you come by it honest, ' he said, shrugging his shoulders. He scratched his ear again. 

'Well!' he said, 'I suppose I must let you have it, but it's worththribble the money, so it is--'

He slowly led the way out to the hutch--opened the door gingerly, and made a sudden fierce grab at the Psammead, which the Psammeadacknowledged in one last long lingering bite. 

'Here, take the brute, ' said the shopman, squeezing the Psammead sotight that he nearly choked it. 'It's bit me to the marrow, it have. '

The man's eyes opened as Anthea held out her arms. 

'Don't blame me if it tears your face off its bones, ' he said, and thePsammead made a leap from his dirty horny hands, and Anthea caught itin hers, which were not very clean, certainly, but at any rate were softand pink, and held it kindly and closely. 

'But you can't take it home like that, ' Cyril said, 'we shall have acrowd after us, ' and indeed two errand boys and a policeman had alreadycollected. 

'I can't give you nothink only a paper-bag, like what we put thetortoises in, ' said the man grudgingly. 

So the whole party went into the shop, and the shopman's eyes nearlycame out of his head when, having given Anthea the largest paper-bag hecould find, he saw her hold it open, and the Psammead carefully creepinto it. 'Well!' he said, 'if that there don't beat cockfighting! Butp'raps you've met the brute afore. '

'Yes, ' said Cyril affably, 'he's an old friend of ours. '

'If I'd a known that, ' the man rejoined, 'you shouldn't a had him undertwice the money. 'Owever, ' he added, as the children disappeared, 'Iain't done so bad, seeing as I only give five bob for the beast. Butthen there's the bites to take into account!'

The children trembling in agitation and excitement, carried home thePsammead, trembling in its paper-bag. 

When they got it home, Anthea nursed it, and stroked it, and would havecried over it, if she hadn't remembered how it hated to be wet. 

When it recovered enough to speak, it said--

'Get me sand; silver sand from the oil and colour shop. And get meplenty. '

They got the sand, and they put it and the Psammead in the round bathtogether, and it rubbed itself, and rolled itself, and shook itself andscraped itself, and scratched itself, and preened itself, till it feltclean and comfy, and then it scrabbled a hasty hole in the sand, andwent to sleep in it. 

The children hid the bath under the girls' bed, and had supper. OldNurse had got them a lovely supper of bread and butter and fried onions. She was full of kind and delicate thoughts. 

When Anthea woke the next morning, the Psammead was snuggling downbetween her shoulder and Jane's. 

'You have saved my life, ' it said. 'I know that man would have throwncold water on me sooner or later, and then I should have died. I saw himwash out a guinea-pig's hutch yesterday morning. I'm still frightfullysleepy, I think I'll go back to sand for another nap. Wake the boys andthis dormouse of a Jane, and when you've had your breakfasts we'll havea talk. '

'Don't YOU want any breakfast?' asked Anthea. 

'I daresay I shall pick a bit presently, ' it said; 'but sand is all Icare about--it's meat and drink to me, and coals and fire and wife andchildren. ' With these words it clambered down by the bedclothes andscrambled back into the bath, where they heard it scratching itself outof sight. 

'Well!' said Anthea, 'anyhow our holidays won't be dull NOW. We've foundthe Psammead again. '

'No, ' said Jane, beginning to put on her stockings. 'We shan't bedull--but it'll be only like having a pet dog now it can't give uswishes. '

'Oh, don't be so discontented, ' said Anthea. 'If it can't do anythingelse it can tell us about Megatheriums and things. '

CHAPTER 2. THE HALF AMULET

Long ago--that is to say last summer--the children, finding themselvesembarrassed by some wish which the Psammead had granted them, and whichthe servants had not received in a proper spirit, had wished that theservants might not notice the gifts which the Psammead gave. And whenthey parted from the Psammead their last wish had been that they shouldmeet it again. Therefore they HAD met it (and it was jolly lucky forthe Psammead, as Robert pointed out). Now, of course, you see thatthe Psammead's being where it was, was the consequence of one of theirwishes, and therefore was a Psammead-wish, and as such could not benoticed by the servants. And it was soon plain that in the Psammead'sopinion old Nurse was still a servant, although she had now a houseof her own, for she never noticed the Psammead at all. And that was aswell, for she would never have consented to allow the girls to keep ananimal and a bath of sand under their bed. 

When breakfast had been cleared away--it was a very nice breakfast withhot rolls to it, a luxury quite out of the common way--Anthea went anddragged out the bath, and woke the Psammead. 

It stretched and shook itself. 

'You must have bolted your breakfast most unwholesomely, ' it said, 'youcan't have been five minutes over it. '

'We've been nearly an hour, ' said Anthea. 'Come--you know you promised. '

'Now look here, ' said the Psammead, sitting back on the sand andshooting out its long eyes suddenly, 'we'd better begin as we mean togo on. It won't do to have any misunderstanding, so I tell you plainlythat--'

'Oh, PLEASE, ' Anthea pleaded, 'do wait till we get to the others. They'll think it most awfully sneakish of me to talk to you withoutthem; do come down, there's a dear. '

She knelt before the sand-bath and held out her arms. The Psammead musthave remembered how glad it had been to jump into those same little armsonly the day before, for it gave a little grudging grunt, and jumpedonce more. 

Anthea wrapped it in her pinafore and carried it downstairs. It waswelcomed in a thrilling silence. At last Anthea said, 'Now then!'

'What place is this?' asked the Psammead, shooting its eyes out andturning them slowly round. 

'It's a sitting-room, of course, ' said Robert. 

'Then I don't like it, ' said the Psammead. 

'Never mind, ' said Anthea kindly; 'we'll take you anywhere you like ifyou want us to. What was it you were going to say upstairs when I saidthe others wouldn't like it if I stayed talking to you without them?'

It looked keenly at her, and she blushed. 

'Don't be silly, ' it said sharply. 'Of course, it's quite natural thatyou should like your brothers and sisters to know exactly how good andunselfish you were. '

'I wish you wouldn't, ' said Jane. 'Anthea was quite right. What was ityou were going to say when she stopped you?'

'I'll tell you, ' said the Psammead, 'since you're so anxious to know. Iwas going to say this. You've saved my life--and I'm not ungrateful--butit doesn't change your nature or mine. You're still very ignorant, andrather silly, and I am worth a thousand of you any day of the week. '

'Of course you are!' Anthea was beginning but it interrupted her. 

'It's very rude to interrupt, ' it said; 'what I mean is that I'm notgoing to stand any nonsense, and if you think what you've done is togive you the right to pet me or make me demean myself by playing withyou, you'll find out that what you think doesn't matter a single penny. See? It's what _I_ think that matters. '

'I know, ' said Cyril, 'it always was, if you remember. '

'Well, ' said the Psammead, 'then that's settled. We're to be treated aswe deserve. I with respect, and all of you with--but I don't wish to beoffensive. Do you want me to tell you how I got into that horrible denyou bought me out of? Oh, I'm not ungrateful! I haven't forgotten it andI shan't forget it. '

'Do tell us, ' said Anthea. 'I know you're awfully clever, but even withall your cleverness, I don't believe you can possibly know how--howrespectfully we do respect you. Don't we?'

The others all said yes--and fidgeted in their chairs. Robert spoke thewishes of all when he said--

'I do wish you'd go on. ' So it sat up on the green-covered table andwent on. 

'When you'd gone away, ' it said, 'I went to sand for a bit, and slept. Iwas tired out with all your silly wishes, and I felt as though I hadn'treally been to sand for a year. '

'To sand?' Jane repeated. 

'Where I sleep. You go to bed. I go to sand. '

Jane yawned; the mention of bed made her feel sleepy. 

'All right, ' said the Psammead, in offended tones. 'I'm sure _I_ don'twant to tell you a long tale. A man caught me, and I bit him. And he putme in a bag with a dead hare and a dead rabbit. And he took me to hishouse and put me out of the bag into a basket with holes that I couldsee through. And I bit him again. And then he brought me to this city, which I am told is called the Modern Babylon--though it's not a bit likethe old Babylon--and he sold me to the man you bought me from, and thenI bit them both. Now, what's your news?'

'There's not quite so much biting in our story, ' said Cyril regretfully;'in fact, there isn't any. Father's gone to Manchuria, and Mother andThe Lamb have gone to Madeira because Mother was ill, and don't I justwish that they were both safe home again. '

Merely from habit, the Sand-fairy began to blow itself out, but itstopped short suddenly. 

'I forgot, ' it said; 'I can't give you any more wishes. '

'No--but look here, ' said Cyril, 'couldn't we call in old Nurse and gether to say SHE wishes they were safe home. I'm sure she does. '

'No go, ' said the Psammead. 'It's just the same as your wishing yourselfif you get some one else to wish for you. It won't act. '

'But it did yesterday--with the man in the shop, ' said Robert. 

'Ah yes, ' said the creature, 'but you didn't ASK him to wish, and youdidn't know what would happen if he did. That can't be done again. It'splayed out. '

'Then you can't help us at all, ' said Jane; 'oh--I did think you coulddo something; I've been thinking about it ever since we saved your lifeyesterday. I thought you'd be certain to be able to fetch back Father, even if you couldn't manage Mother. '

And Jane began to cry. 

'Now DON'T, ' said the Psammead hastily; 'you know how it always upsetsme if you cry. I can't feel safe a moment. Look here; you must have somenew kind of charm. '

'That's easier said than done. '

'Not a bit of it, ' said the creature; 'there's one of the strongestcharms in the world not a stone's throw from where you bought meyesterday. The man that I bit so--the first one, I mean--went intoa shop to ask how much something cost--I think he said it was aconcertina--and while he was telling the man in the shop how much toomuch he wanted for it, I saw the charm in a sort of tray, with a lot ofother things. If you can only buy THAT, you will be able to have yourheart's desire. '

The children looked at each other and then at the Psammead. Then Cyrilcoughed awkwardly and took sudden courage to say what everyone wasthinking. 

'I do hope you won't be waxy, ' he said; 'but it's like this: when youused to give us our wishes they almost always got us into some rowor other, and we used to think you wouldn't have been pleased if theyhadn't. Now, about this charm--we haven't got over and above too muchtin, and if we blue it all on this charm and it turns out to be not upto much--well--you see what I'm driving at, don't you?'

'I see that YOU don't see more than the length of your nose, and THAT'Snot far, ' said the Psammead crossly. 'Look here, I HAD to give you thewishes, and of course they turned out badly, in a sort of way, becauseyou hadn't the sense to wish for what was good for you. But this charm'squite different. I haven't GOT to do this for you, it's just my owngenerous kindness that makes me tell you about it. So it's bound to beall right. See?'

'Don't be cross, ' said Anthea, 'Please, PLEASE don't. You see, it'sall we've got; we shan't have any more pocket-money till Daddy comeshome--unless he sends us some in a letter. But we DO trust you. And Isay all of you, ' she went on, 'don't you think it's worth spending ALLthe money, if there's even the chanciest chance of getting Father andMother back safe NOW? Just think of it! Oh, do let's!'

'_I_ don't care what you do, ' said the Psammead; 'I'll go back to sandagain till you've made up your minds. '

'No, don't!' said everybody; and Jane added, 'We are quite mindmade-up--don't you see we are? Let's get our hats. Will you come withus?'

'Of course, ' said the Psammead; 'how else would you find the shop?'

So everybody got its hat. The Psammead was put into a flat bass-bag thathad come from Farringdon Market with two pounds of filleted plaice init. Now it contained about three pounds and a quarter of solid Psammead, and the children took it in turns to carry it. 

'It's not half the weight of The Lamb, ' Robert said, and the girlssighed. 

The Psammead poked a wary eye out of the top of the basket every now andthen, and told the children which turnings to take. 

'How on earth do you know?' asked Robert. 'I can't think how you do it. '

And the Psammead said sharply, 'No--I don't suppose you can. '

At last they came to THE shop. It had all sorts and kinds of thingsin the window--concertinas, and silk handkerchiefs, china vases andtea-cups, blue Japanese jars, pipes, swords, pistols, lace collars, silver spoons tied up in half-dozens, and wedding-rings in a redlacquered basin. There were officers' epaulets and doctors' lancets. There were tea-caddies inlaid with red turtle-shell and brasscurly-wurlies, plates of different kinds of money, and stacks ofdifferent kinds of plates. There was a beautiful picture of a littlegirl washing a dog, which Jane liked very much. And in the middle ofthe window there was a dirty silver tray full of mother-of-pearl cardcounters, old seals, paste buckles, snuff-boxes, and all sorts of littledingy odds and ends. 

The Psammead put its head quite out of the fish-basket to look in thewindow, when Cyril said--

'There's a tray there with rubbish in it. '

And then its long snail's eyes saw something that made them stretch outso much that they were as long and thin as new slate-pencils. Its furbristled thickly, and its voice was quite hoarse with excitement as itwhispered--

'That's it! That's it! There, under that blue and yellow buckle, you cansee a bit sticking out. It's red. Do you see?'

'Is it that thing something like a horse-shoe?' asked Cyril. 'And red, like the common sealing-wax you do up parcels with?' 'Yes, that's it, 'said the Psammead. 'Now, you do just as you did before. Ask the price ofother things. That blue buckle would do. Then the man will get the trayout of the window. I think you'd better be the one, ' it said to Anthea. 'We'll wait out here. '

So the others flattened their noses against the shop window, andpresently a large, dirty, short-fingered hand with a very big diamondring came stretching through the green half-curtains at the back of theshop window and took away the tray. 

They could not see what was happening in the interview between Antheaand the Diamond Ring, and it seemed to them that she had had time--ifshe had had money--to buy everything in the shop before the moment camewhen she stood before them, her face wreathed in grins, as Cyril saidlater, and in her hand the charm. 

It was something like this: [Drawing omitted. ] and it was made of a red, smooth, softly shiny stone. 

'I've got it, ' Anthea whispered, just opening her hand to give theothers a glimpse of it. 'Do let's get home. We can't stand here likestuck-pigs looking at it in the street. '

So home they went. The parlour in Fitzroy Street was a very flatbackground to magic happenings. Down in the country among the flowersand green fields anything had seemed--and indeed had been--possible. Butit was hard to believe that anything really wonderful could happen sonear the Tottenham Court Road. But the Psammead was there--and it initself was wonderful. And it could talk--and it had shown them where acharm could be bought that would make the owner of it perfectly happy. So the four children hurried home, taking very long steps, with theirchins stuck out, and their mouths shut very tight indeed. They went sofast that the Psammead was quite shaken about in its fish-bag, but itdid not say anything--perhaps for fear of attracting public notice. 

They got home at last, very hot indeed, and set the Psammead on thegreen tablecloth. 

'Now then!' said Cyril. 

But the Psammead had to have a plate of sand fetched for it, for it wasquite faint. When it had refreshed itself a little it said--

'Now then! Let me see the charm, ' and Anthea laid it on the greentable-cover. The Psammead shot out his long eyes to look at it, then itturned them reproachfully on Anthea and said--

'But there's only half of it here!'

This was indeed a blow. 

'It was all there was, ' said Anthea, with timid firmness. She knew itwas not her fault. 'There should be another piece, ' said the Psammead, 'and a sort of pin to fasten the two together. '

'Isn't half any good?'--'Won't it work without the other bit?'--'It costseven-and-six. '--'Oh, bother, bother, bother!'--'Don't be silly littleidiots!' said everyone and the Psammead altogether. 

Then there was a wretched silence. Cyril broke it--

'What shall we do?'

'Go back to the shop and see if they haven't got the other half, ' saidthe Psammead. 'I'll go to sand till you come back. Cheer up! Even thebit you've got is SOME good, but it'll be no end of a bother if youcan't find the other. '

So Cyril went to the shop. And the Psammead to sand. And the other threewent to dinner, which was now ready. And old Nurse was very cross thatCyril was not ready too. 

The three were watching at the windows when Cyril returned, and evenbefore he was near enough for them to see his face there was somethingabout the slouch of his shoulders and set of his knickerbockers andthe way he dragged his boots along that showed but too plainly that hiserrand had been in vain. 

'Well?' they all said, hoping against hope on the front-door step. 

'No go, ' Cyril answered; 'the man said the thing was perfect. He saidit was a Roman lady's locket, and people shouldn't buy curios if theydidn't know anything about arky--something or other, and that he neverwent back on a bargain, because it wasn't business, and he expected hiscustomers to act the same. He was simply nasty--that's what he was, andI want my dinner. '

It was plain that Cyril was not pleased. 

The unlikeliness of anything really interesting happening in thatparlour lay like a weight of lead on everyone's spirits. Cyril had hisdinner, and just as he was swallowing the last mouthful of apple-puddingthere was a scratch at the door. Anthea opened it and in walked thePsammead. 

'Well, ' it said, when it had heard the news, 'things might be worse. Only you won't be surprised if you have a few adventures before you getthe other half. You want to get it, of course. '

'Rather, ' was the general reply. 'And we don't mind adventures. '

'No, ' said the Psammead, 'I seem to remember that about you. Well, sitdown and listen with all your ears. Eight, are there? Right--I am gladyou know arithmetic. Now pay attention, because I don't intend to tellyou everything twice over. '

As the children settled themselves on the floor--it was far morecomfortable than the chairs, as well as more polite to the Psammead, whowas stroking its whiskers on the hearth-rug--a sudden cold pain caughtat Anthea's heart. Father--Mother--the darling Lamb--all far away. Thena warm, comfortable feeling flowed through her. The Psammead was here, and at least half a charm, and there were to be adventures. (If youdon't know what a cold pain is, I am glad for your sakes, and I hope younever may. )

'Now, ' said the Psammead cheerily, 'you are not particularly nice, norparticularly clever, and you're not at all good-looking. Still, you'vesaved my life--oh, when I think of that man and his pail of water!--soI'll tell you all I know. At least, of course I can't do that, because Iknow far too much. But I'll tell you all I know about this red thing. '

'Do! Do! Do! Do!' said everyone. 

'Well, then, ' said the Psammead. 'This thing is half of an Amulet thatcan do all sorts of things; it can make the corn grow, and the watersflow, and the trees bear fruit, and the little new beautiful babiescome. (Not that babies ARE beautiful, of course, ' it broke off to say, 'but their mothers think they are--and as long as you think a thing'strue it IS true as far as you're concerned. )'

Robert yawned. 

The Psammead went on. 

'The complete Amulet can keep off all the things that make peopleunhappy--jealousy, bad temper, pride, disagreeableness, greediness, selfishness, laziness. Evil spirits, people called them when the Amuletwas made. Don't you think it would be nice to have it?'

'Very, ' said the children, quite without enthusiasm. 

'And it can give you strength and courage. '

'That's better, ' said Cyril. 

'And virtue. '

'I suppose it's nice to have that, ' said Jane, but not with muchinterest. 

'And it can give you your heart's desire. '

'Now you're talking, ' said Robert. 

'Of course I am, ' retorted the Psammead tartly, 'so there's no need foryou to. '

'Heart's desire is good enough for me, ' said Cyril. 

'Yes, but, ' Anthea ventured, 'all that's what the WHOLE charm can do. There's something that the half we've got can win off its own bat--isn'tthere?' She appealed to the Psammead. It nodded. 

'Yes, ' it said; 'the half has the power to take you anywhere you like tolook for the other half. '

This seemed a brilliant prospect till Robert asked--

'Does it know where to look?'

The Psammead shook its head and answered, 'I don't think it's likely. '

'Do you?'

'No. '

'Then, ' said Robert, 'we might as well look for a needle in a bottle ofhay. Yes--it IS bottle, and not bundle, Father said so. '

'Not at all, ' said the Psammead briskly-, 'you think you knoweverything, but you are quite mistaken. The first thing is to get thething to talk. '

'Can it?' Jane questioned. Jane's question did not mean that she thoughtit couldn't, for in spite of the parlour furniture the feeling of magicwas growing deeper and thicker, and seemed to fill the room like a dreamof a scented fog. 

'Of course it can. I suppose you can read. '

'Oh yes!' Everyone was rather hurt at the question. 

'Well, then--all you've got to do is to read the name that's written onthe part of the charm that you've got. And as soon as you say the nameout loud the thing will have power to do--well, several things. '

There was a silence. The red charm was passed from hand to hand. 

'There's no name on it, ' said Cyril at last. 

'Nonsense, ' said the Psammead; 'what's that?'

'Oh, THAT!' said Cyril, 'it's not reading. It looks like pictures ofchickens and snakes and things. '

This was what was on the charm: [Hieroglyphics omitted. ]

'I've no patience with you, ' said the Psammead; 'if you can't read youmust find some one who can. A priest now?'

'We don't know any priests, ' said Anthea; 'we know a clergyman--he'scalled a priest in the prayer-book, you know--but he only knows Greekand Latin and Hebrew, and this isn't any of those--I know. '

The Psammead stamped a furry foot angrily. 

'I wish I'd never seen you, ' it said; 'you aren't any more good than somany stone images. Not so much, if I'm to tell the truth. Is there nowise man in your Babylon who can pronounce the names of the Great Ones?'

'There's a poor learned gentleman upstairs, ' said Anthea, 'we might tryhim. He has a lot of stone images in his room, and iron-looking onestoo--we peeped in once when he was out. Old Nurse says he doesn't eatenough to keep a canary alive. He spends it all on stones and things. '

'Try him, ' said the Psammead, 'only be careful. If he knows a greatername than this and uses it against you, your charm will be of no use. Bind him first with the chains of honour and upright dealing. And thenask his aid--oh, yes, you'd better all go; you can put me to sand as yougo upstairs. I must have a few minutes' peace and quietness. '

So the four children hastily washed their hands and brushed theirhair--this was Anthea's idea--and went up to knock at the door of the'poor learned gentleman', and to 'bind him with the chains of honour andupright dealing'. 

CHAPTER 3. THE PAST

The learned gentleman had let his dinner get quite cold. It was muttonchop, and as it lay on the plate it looked like a brown island in themiddle of a frozen pond, because the grease of the gravy had becomecold, and consequently white. It looked very nasty, and it was the firstthing the children saw when, after knocking three times and receivingno reply, one of them ventured to turn the handle and softly to open thedoor. The chop was on the end of a long table that ran down one side ofthe room. The table had images on it and queer-shaped stones, and books. And there were glass cases fixed against the wall behind, with littlestrange things in them. The cases were rather like the ones you see injewellers' shops. 

The 'poor learned gentleman' was sitting at a table in the window, looking at something very small which he held in a pair of fine pincers. He had a round spy-glass sort of thing in one eye--which remindedthe children of watchmakers, and also of the long snail's eyes of thePsammead. The gentleman was very long and thin, and his long, thin bootsstuck out under the other side of his table. He did not hear the dooropen, and the children stood hesitating. At last Robert gave the door apush, and they all started back, for in the middle of the wall that thedoor had hidden was a mummy-case--very, very, very big--painted in redand yellow and green and black, and the face of it seemed to look atthem quite angrily. 

You know what a mummy-case is like, of course? If you don't you hadbetter go to the British Museum at once and find out. Anyway, it is notat all the sort of thing that you expect to meet in a top-floor frontin Bloomsbury, looking as though it would like to know what business YOUhad there. 

So everyone said, 'Oh!' rather loud, and their boots clattered as theystumbled back. 

The learned gentleman took the glass out of his eye and said--'I begyour pardon, ' in a very soft, quiet pleasant voice--the voice of agentleman who has been to Oxford. 

'It's us that beg yours, ' said Cyril politely. 'We are sorry to disturbyou. '

'Come in, ' said the gentleman, rising--with the most distinguishedcourtesy, Anthea told herself. 'I am delighted to see you. Won't you sitdown? No, not there; allow me to move that papyrus. '

He cleared a chair, and stood smiling and looking kindly through hislarge, round spectacles. 

'He treats us like grown-ups, ' whispered Robert, 'and he doesn't seem toknow how many of us there are. '

'Hush, ' said Anthea, 'it isn't manners to whisper. You say, Cyril--goahead. '

'We're very sorry to disturb you, ' said Cyril politely, 'but we didknock three times, and you didn't say "Come in", or "Run away now", orthat you couldn't be bothered just now, or to come when you weren't sobusy, or any of the things people do say when you knock at doors, so weopened it. We knew you were in because we heard you sneeze while we werewaiting. '

'Not at all, ' said the gentleman; 'do sit down. '

'He has found out there are four of us, ' said Robert, as the gentlemancleared three more chairs. He put the things off them carefully on thefloor. The first chair had things like bricks that tiny, tiny birds'feet have walked over when the bricks were soft, only the marks were inregular lines. The second chair had round things on it like very large, fat, long, pale beads. And the last chair had a pile of dusty papers onit. The children sat down. 

'We know you are very, very learned, ' said Cyril, 'and we have got acharm, and we want you to read the name on it, because it isn't in Latinor Greek, or Hebrew, or any of the languages WE know--'

'A thorough knowledge of even those languages is a very fair foundationon which to build an education, ' said the gentleman politely. 

'Oh!' said Cyril blushing, 'but we only know them to look at, exceptLatin--and I'm only in Caesar with that. ' The gentleman took off hisspectacles and laughed. His laugh sounded rusty, Cyril thought, asthough it wasn't often used. 

'Of course!' he said. 'I'm sure I beg your pardon. I think I must havebeen in a dream. You are the children who live downstairs, are you not?Yes. I have seen you as I have passed in and out. And you have foundsomething that you think to be an antiquity, and you've brought it toshow me? That was very kind. I should like to inspect it. '

'I'm afraid we didn't think about your liking to inspect it, ' said thetruthful Anthea. 'It was just for US because we wanted to know the nameon it--'

'Oh, yes--and, I say, ' Robert interjected, 'you won't think it rudeof us if we ask you first, before we show it, to be bound in thewhat-do-you-call-it of--'

'In the bonds of honour and upright dealing, ' said Anthea. 

'I'm afraid I don't quite follow you, ' said the gentleman, with gentlenervousness. 

'Well, it's this way, ' said Cyril. 'We've got part of a charm. And theSammy--I mean, something told us it would work, though it's only half aone; but it won't work unless we can say the name that's on it. But, ofcourse, if you've got another name that can lick ours, our charm willbe no go; so we want you to give us your word of honour as agentleman--though I'm sure, now I've seen you, that it's not necessary;but still I've promised to ask you, so we must. Will you please give usyour honourable word not to say any name stronger than the name on ourcharm?'

The gentleman had put on his spectacles again and was looking at Cyrilthrough them. He now said: 'Bless me!' more than once, adding, 'Who toldyou all this?'

'I can't tell you, ' said Cyril. 'I'm very sorry, but I can't. '

Some faint memory of a far-off childhood must have come to the learnedgentleman just then, for he smiled. 'I see, ' he said. 'It is some sortof game that you are engaged in? Of course! Yes! Well, I will certainlypromise. Yet I wonder how you heard of the names of power?'

'We can't tell you that either, ' said Cyril; and Anthea said, 'Here isour charm, ' and held it out. 

With politeness, but without interest, the gentleman took it. But afterthe first glance all his body suddenly stiffened, as a pointer's doeswhen he sees a partridge. 

'Excuse me, ' he said in quite a changed voice, and carried the charm tothe window. He looked at it; he turned it over. He fixed his spy-glassin his eye and looked again. No one said anything. Only Robert made ashuffling noise with his feet till Anthea nudged him to shut up. At lastthe learned gentleman drew a long breath. 

'Where did you find this?' he asked. 

'We didn't find it. We bought it at a shop. Jacob Absalom the nameis--not far from Charing Cross, ' said Cyril. 

'We gave seven-and-sixpence for it, ' added Jane. 

'It is not for sale, I suppose? You do not wish to part with it?

I ought to tell you that it is extremely valuable--extraordinarilyvaluable, I may say. '

'Yes, ' said Cyril, 'we know that, so of course we want to keep it. '

'Keep it carefully, then, ' said the gentleman impressively; 'and if everyou should wish to part with it, may I ask you to give me the refusal ofit?'

'The refusal?'

'I mean, do not sell it to anyone else until you have given me theopportunity of buying it. '

'All right, ' said Cyril, 'we won't. But we don't want to sell it. Wewant to make it do things. '

'I suppose you can play at that as well as at anything else, ' said thegentleman; 'but I'm afraid the days of magic are over. '

'They aren't REALLY, ' said Anthea earnestly. 'You'd see they aren't if Icould tell you about our last summer holidays. Only I mustn't. Thank youvery much. And can you read the name?'

'Yes, I can read it. '

'Will you tell it us?' 'The name, ' said the gentleman, 'is Ur HekauSetcheh. '

'Ur Hekau Setcheh, ' repeated Cyril. 'Thanks awfully. I do hope wehaven't taken up too much of your time. '

'Not at all, ' said the gentleman. 'And do let me entreat you to be very, very careful of that most valuable specimen. '

They said 'Thank you' in all the different polite ways they could thinkof, and filed out of the door and down the stairs. Anthea was last. Half-way down to the first landing she turned and ran up again. 

The door was still open, and the learned gentleman and the mummy-casewere standing opposite to each other, and both looked as though they hadstood like that for years. 

The gentleman started when Anthea put her hand on his arm. 

'I hope you won't be cross and say it's not my business, ' she said, 'but do look at your chop! Don't you think you ought to eat it? Fatherforgets his dinner sometimes when he's writing, and Mother always says Iought to remind him if she's not at home to do it herself, because it'sso bad to miss your regular meals. 

So I thought perhaps you wouldn't mind my reminding you, because youdon't seem to have anyone else to do it. '

She glanced at the mummy-case; IT certainly did not look as though itwould ever think of reminding people of their meals. 

The learned gentleman looked at her for a moment before he said--

'Thank you, my dear. It was a kindly thought. No, I haven't anyone toremind me about things like that. '

He sighed, and looked at the chop. 

'It looks very nasty, ' said Anthea. 

'Yes, ' he said, 'it does. I'll eat it immediately, before I forget. '

As he ate it he sighed more than once. Perhaps because the chop wasnasty, perhaps because he longed for the charm which the children didnot want to sell, perhaps because it was so long since anyone caredwhether he ate his chops or forgot them. 

Anthea caught the others at the stair-foot. They woke the Psammead, andit taught them exactly how to use the word of power, and to make thecharm speak. I am not going to tell you how this is done, because youmight try to do it. And for you any such trying would be almost sureto end in disappointment. Because in the first place it is a thousandmillion to one against your ever getting hold of the right sort ofcharm, and if you did, there would be hardly any chance at all of yourfinding a learned gentleman clever enough and kind enough to read theword for you. 

The children and the Psammead crouched in a circle on the floor--in thegirls' bedroom, because in the parlour they might have been interruptedby old Nurse's coming in to lay the cloth for tea--and the charm was putin the middle of the circle. 

The sun shone splendidly outside, and the room was very light. Throughthe open window came the hum and rattle of London, and in the streetbelow they could hear the voice of the milkman. 

When all was ready, the Psammead signed to Anthea to say the word. Andshe said it. Instantly the whole light of all the world seemed to goout. The room was dark. The world outside was dark--darker than thedarkest night that ever was. And all the sounds went out too, so thatthere was a silence deeper than any silence you have ever even dreamedof imagining. It was like being suddenly deaf and blind, only darker andquieter even than that. 

But before the children had got over the sudden shock of it enough to befrightened, a faint, beautiful light began to show in the middle of thecircle, and at the same moment a faint, beautiful voice began to speak. The light was too small for one to see anything by, and the voice wastoo small for you to hear what it said. You could just see the light andjust hear the voice. 

But the light grew stronger. It was greeny, like glow-worms' lamps, and it grew and grew till it was as though thousands and thousands ofglow-worms were signalling to their winged sweethearts from the middleof the circle. And the voice grew, not so much in loudness as insweetness (though it grew louder, too), till it was so sweet thatyou wanted to cry with pleasure just at the sound of it. It was likenightingales, and the sea, and the fiddle, and the voice of your motherwhen you have been a long time away, and she meets you at the door whenyou get home. 

And the voice said--

'Speak. What is it that you would hear?'

I cannot tell you what language the voice used. I only know thateveryone present understood it perfectly. If you come to think of it, there must be some language that everyone could understand, if we onlyknew what it was. Nor can I tell you how the charm spoke, nor whetherit was the charm that spoke, or some presence in the charm. The childrencould not have told you either. Indeed, they could not look at the charmwhile it was speaking, because the light was too bright. They lookedinstead at the green radiance on the faded Kidderminster carpet at theedge of the circle. They all felt very quiet, and not inclined to askquestions or fidget with their feet. For this was not like the thingsthat had happened in the country when the Psammead had given them theirwishes. That had been funny somehow, and this was not. It was somethinglike Arabian Nights magic, and something like being in church. No onecared to speak. 

It was Cyril who said at last--

'Please we want to know where the other half of the charm is. '

'The part of the Amulet which is lost, ' said the beautiful voice, 'wasbroken and ground into the dust of the shrine that held it. It and thepin that joined the two halves are themselves dust, and the dust isscattered over many lands and sunk in many seas. '

'Oh, I say!' murmured Robert, and a blank silence fell. 'Then it's allup?' said Cyril at last; 'it's no use our looking for a thing that'ssmashed into dust, and the dust scattered all over the place. '

'If you would find it, ' said the voice, 'You must seek it where it stillis, perfect as ever. '

'I don't understand, ' said Cyril. 

'In the Past you may find it, ' said the voice. 

'I wish we MAY find it, ' said Cyril. 

The Psammead whispered crossly, 'Don't you understand? The thing existedin the Past. If you were in the Past, too, you could find it. It's verydifficult to make you understand things. Time and space are only formsof thought. '

'I see, ' said Cyril. 

'No, you don't, ' said the Psammead, 'and it doesn't matter if you don't, either. What I mean is that if you were only made the right way, youcould see everything happening in the same place at the same time. Nowdo you see?'

'I'm afraid _I_ don't, ' said Anthea; 'I'm sorry I'm so stupid. '

'Well, at any rate, you see this. That lost half of the Amulet is in thePast. Therefore it's in the Past we must look for it. I mustn't speak tothe charm myself. Ask it things! Find out!'

'Where can we find the other part of you?' asked Cyril obediently. 

'In the Past, ' said the voice. 

'What part of the Past?'

'I may not tell you. If you will choose a time, I will take you to theplace that then held it. You yourselves must find it. '

'When did you see it last?' asked Anthea--'I mean, when was it takenaway from you?'

The beautiful voice answered--

'That was thousands of years ago. The Amulet was perfect then, and layin a shrine, the last of many shrines, and I worked wonders. Then camestrange men with strange weapons and destroyed my shrine, and the Amuletthey bore away with many captives. But of these, one, my priest, knewthe word of power, and spoke it for me, so that the Amulet becameinvisible, and thus returned to my shrine, but the shrine was brokendown, and ere any magic could rebuild it one spoke a word before whichmy power bowed down and was still. And the Amulet lay there, stillperfect, but enslaved. Then one coming with stones to rebuild theshrine, dropped a hewn stone on the Amulet as it lay, and one half wassundered from the other. I had no power to seek for that which was lost. And there being none to speak the word of power, I could not rejoin it. So the Amulet lay in the dust of the desert many thousand years, and atlast came a small man, a conqueror with an army, and after him a crowdof men who sought to seem wise, and one of these found half the Amuletand brought it to this land. But none could read the name. So I laystill. And this man dying and his son after him, the Amulet was sold bythose who came after to a merchant, and from him you bought it, and itis here, and now, the name of power having been spoken, I also am here. '

This is what the voice said. I think it must have meant Napoleon by thesmall man, the conqueror. Because I know I have been told that he tookan army to Egypt, and that afterwards a lot of wise people went grubbingin the sand, and fished up all sorts of wonderful things, older thanyou would think possible. And of these I believe this charm to have beenone, and the most wonderful one of all. 

Everyone listened: and everyone tried to think. It is not easy to dothis clearly when you have been listening to the kind of talk I havetold you about. 

At last Robert said--

'Can you take us into the Past--to the shrine where you and the otherthing were together. If you could take us there, we might find the otherpart still there after all these thousands of years. '

'Still there? silly!' said Cyril. 'Don't you see, if we go back into thePast it won't be thousands of years ago. It will be NOW for us--won'tit?' He appealed to the Psammead, who said--

'You're not so far off the idea as you usually are!'

'Well, ' said Anthea, 'will you take us back to when there was a shrineand you were safe in it--all of you?'

'Yes, ' said the voice. 'You must hold me up, and speak the word ofpower, and one by one, beginning with the first-born, you shall passthrough me into the Past. But let the last that passes be the one thatholds me, and let him not lose his hold, lest you lose me, and so remainin the Past for ever. '

'That's a nasty idea, ' said Robert. 

'When you desire to return, ' the beautiful voice went on, 'hold me uptowards the East, and speak the word. Then, passing through me, youshall return to this time and it shall be the present to you. '

'But how--' A bell rang loudly. 

'Oh crikey!' exclaimed Robert, 'that's tea! Will you please make itproper daylight again so that we can go down. And thank you so much forall your kindness. '

'We've enjoyed ourselves very much indeed, thank you!' added Antheapolitely. 

The beautiful light faded slowly. The great darkness and silence cameand these suddenly changed to the dazzlement of day and the great soft, rustling sound of London, that is like some vast beast turning over inits sleep. 

The children rubbed their eyes, the Psammead ran quickly to its sandybath, and the others went down to tea. And until the cups were actuallyfilled tea seemed less real than the beautiful voice and the greenylight. 

After tea Anthea persuaded the others to allow her to hang the charmround her neck with a piece of string. 

'It would be so awful if it got lost, ' she said: 'it might get lostanywhere, you know, and it would be rather beastly for us to have tostay in the Past for ever and ever, wouldn't it?'

CHAPTER 4. EIGHT THOUSAND YEARS AGO

Next morning Anthea got old Nurse to allow her to take up the 'poorlearned gentleman's' breakfast. He did not recognize her at first, butwhen he did he was vaguely pleased to see her. 

'You see I'm wearing the charm round my neck, ' she said; 'I'm takingcare of it--like you told us to. '

'That's right, ' said he; 'did you have a good game last night?'

'You will eat your breakfast before it's cold, won't you?' said Anthea. 'Yes, we had a splendid time. The charm made it all dark, and thengreeny light, and then it spoke. Oh! I wish you could have heard it--itwas such a darling voice--and it told us the other half of it was lostin the Past, so of course we shall have to look for it there!'

The learned gentleman rubbed his hair with both hands and lookedanxiously at Anthea. 

'I suppose it's natural--youthful imagination and so forth, ' he said. 'Yet someone must have. . . Who told you that some part of the charm wasmissing?'

'I can't tell you, ' she said. 'I know it seems most awfully rude, especially after being so kind about telling us the name of power, andall that, but really, I'm not allowed to tell anybody anything aboutthe--the--the person who told me. You won't forget your breakfast, willyou?'

The learned gentleman smiled feebly and then frowned--not a cross-frown, but a puzzle-frown. 

'Thank you, ' he said, 'I shall always be pleased if you'll look in--anytime you're passing you know--at least. . . '

'I will, ' she said; 'goodbye. I'll always tell you anything I MAY tell. '

He had not had many adventures with children in them, and he wonderedwhether all children were like these. He spent quite five minutes inwondering before he settled down to the fifty-second chapter of hisgreat book on 'The Secret Rites of the Priests of Amen Ra'. 

It is no use to pretend that the children did not feel a good deal ofagitation at the thought of going through the charm into the Past. Thatidea, that perhaps they might stay in the Past and never get back again, was anything but pleasing. Yet no one would have dared to suggest thatthe charm should not be used; and though each was in its heart veryfrightened indeed, they would all have joined in jeering at thecowardice of any one of them who should have uttered the timid butnatural suggestion, 'Don't let's!'

It seemed necessary to make arrangements for being out all day, forthere was no reason to suppose that the sound of the dinner-bell wouldbe able to reach back into the Past, and it seemed unwise to excite oldNurse's curiosity when nothing they could say--not even the truth--couldin any way satisfy it. They were all very proud to think how well theyhad understood what the charm and the Psammead had said about Time andSpace and things like that, and they were perfectly certain that itwould be quite impossible to make old Nurse understand a single wordof it. So they merely asked her to let them take their dinner out intoRegent's Park--and this, with the implied cold mutton and tomatoes, wasreadily granted. 

'You can get yourselves some buns or sponge-cakes, or whatever youfancy-like, ' said old Nurse, giving Cyril a shilling. 'Don't go gettingjam-tarts, now--so messy at the best of times, and without forks andplates ruination to your clothes, besides your not being able to washyour hands and faces afterwards. '

So Cyril took the shilling, and they all started off. They went roundby the Tottenham Court Road to buy a piece of waterproof sheeting to putover the Psammead in case it should be raining in the Past when they gotthere. For it is almost certain death to a Psammead to get wet. 

The sun was shining very brightly, and even London looked pretty. Womenwere selling roses from big baskets-full, and Anthea bought four roses, one each, for herself and the others. They were red roses and smeltof summer--the kind of roses you always want so desperately at aboutChristmas-time when you can only get mistletoe, which is pale rightthrough to its very scent, and holly which pricks your nose if you tryto smell it. So now everyone had a rose in its buttonhole, and sooneveryone was sitting on the grass in Regent's Park under trees whoseleaves would have been clean, clear green in the country, but here weredusty and yellowish, and brown at the edges. 

'We've got to go on with it, ' said Anthea, 'and as the eldest has to gofirst, you'll have to be last, Jane. You quite understand about holdingon to the charm as you go through, don't you, Pussy?'

'I wish I hadn't got to be last, ' said Jane. 

'You shall carry the Psammead if you like, ' said Anthea. 'That is, ' sheadded, remembering the beast's queer temper, 'if it'll let you. '

The Psammead, however, was unexpectedly amiable. 

'_I_ don't mind, ' it said, 'who carries me, so long as it doesn't dropme. I can't bear being dropped. '

Jane with trembling hands took the Psammead and its fish-basket underone arm. The charm's long string was hung round her neck. Then they allstood up. Jane held out the charm at arm's length, and Cyril solemnlypronounced the word of power. 

As he spoke it the charm grew tall and broad, and he saw that Jane wasjust holding on to the edge of a great red arch of very curious shape. The opening of the arch was small, but Cyril saw that he could gothrough it. All round and beyond the arch were the faded trees andtrampled grass of Regent's Park, where the little ragged children wereplaying Ring-o'-Roses. But through the opening of it shone a blaze ofblue and yellow and red. Cyril drew a long breath and stiffened hislegs so that the others should not see that his knees were trembling andalmost knocking together. 'Here goes!' he said, and, stepping up throughthe arch, disappeared. Then followed Anthea. Robert, coming next, held fast, at Anthea's suggestion, to the sleeve of Jane, who was thusdragged safely through the arch. And as soon as they were on the otherside of the arch there was no more arch at all and no more Regent's Parkeither, only the charm in Jane's hand, and it was its proper size again. They were now in a light so bright that they winked and blinked andrubbed their eyes. During this dazzling interval Anthea felt for thecharm and pushed it inside Jane's frock, so that it might be quite safe. When their eyes got used to the new wonderful light the children lookedaround them. The sky was very, very blue, and it sparkled and glitteredand dazzled like the sea at home when the sun shines on it. 

They were standing on a little clearing in a thick, low forest; therewere trees and shrubs and a close, thorny, tangly undergrowth. Infront of them stretched a bank of strange black mud, then came thebrowny-yellowy shining ribbon of a river. Then more dry, caked mud andmore greeny-browny jungle. The only things that told that human peoplehad been there were the clearing, a path that led to it, and an oddarrangement of cut reeds in the river. 

They looked at each other. 

'Well!' said Robert, 'this IS a change of air!'

It was. The air was hotter than they could have imagined, even in Londonin August. 

'I wish I knew where we were, ' said Cyril. 

'Here's a river, now--I wonder whether it's the Amazon or the Tiber, orwhat. '

'It's the Nile, ' said the Psammead, looking out of the fish-bag. 

'Then this is Egypt, ' said Robert, who had once taken a geography prize. 

'I don't see any crocodiles, ' Cyril objected. His prize had been fornatural history. 

The Psammead reached out a hairy arm from its basket and pointed to aheap of mud at the edge of the water. 

'What do you call that?' it said; and as it spoke the heap of mud slidinto the river just as a slab of damp mixed mortar will slip from abricklayer's trowel. 

'Oh!' said everybody. 

There was a crashing among the reeds on the other side of the water. 

'And there's a river-horse!' said the Psammead, as a great beast like anenormous slaty-blue slug showed itself against the black bank on the farside of the stream. 

'It's a hippopotamus, ' said Cyril; 'it seems much more real somehow thanthe one at the Zoo, doesn't it?'

'I'm glad it's being real on the other side of the river, ' said Jane. And now there was a crackling of reeds and twigs behind them. This washorrible. Of course it might be another hippopotamus, or a crocodile, ora lion--or, in fact, almost anything. 

'Keep your hand on the charm, Jane, ' said Robert hastily. 'We ought tohave a means of escape handy. I'm dead certain this is the sort of placewhere simply anything might happen to us. '

'I believe a hippopotamus is going to happen to us, ' said Jane--'a very, very big one. '

They had all turned to face the danger. 

'Don't be silly little duffers, ' said the Psammead in its friendly, informal way; 'it's not a river-horse. It's a human. '

It was. It was a girl--of about Anthea's age. Her hair was short andfair, and though her skin was tanned by the sun, you could see that itwould have been fair too if it had had a chance. She had every chance ofbeing tanned, for she had no clothes to speak of, and the four Englishchildren, carefully dressed in frocks, hats, shoes, stockings, coats, collars, and all the rest of it, envied her more than any words oftheirs or of mine could possibly say. There was no doubt that here wasthe right costume for that climate. 

She carried a pot on her head, of red and black earthenware. She did notsee the children, who shrank back against the edge of the jungle, andshe went forward to the brink of the river to fill her pitcher. As shewent she made a strange sort of droning, humming, melancholy noiseall on two notes. Anthea could not help thinking that perhaps the girlthought this noise was singing. 

The girl filled the pitcher and set it down by the river bank. Thenshe waded into the water and stooped over the circle of cut reeds. Shepulled half a dozen fine fish out of the water within the reeds, killingeach as she took it out, and threading it on a long osier that shecarried. Then she knotted the osier, hung it on her arm, picked up thepitcher, and turned to come back. And as she turned she saw the fourchildren. The white dresses of Jane and Anthea stood out like snowagainst the dark forest background. She screamed and the pitcher fell, and the water was spilled out over the hard mud surface and over thefish, which had fallen too. Then the water slowly trickled away into thedeep cracks. 

'Don't be frightened, ' Anthea cried, 'we won't hurt you. '

'Who are you?' said the girl. 

Now, once for all, I am not going to be bothered to tell you how it wasthat the girl could understand Anthea and Anthea could understand thegirl. YOU, at any rate, would not understand ME, if I tried to explainit, any more than you can understand about time and space being onlyforms of thought. You may think what you like. Perhaps the childrenhad found out the universal language which everyone can understand, andwhich wise men so far have not found. You will have noticed long agothat they were singularly lucky children, and they may have had thispiece of luck as well as others. Or it may have been that. . . Butwhy pursue the question further? The fact remains that in all theiradventures the muddle-headed inventions which we call foreign languagesnever bothered them in the least. They could always understand andbe understood. If you can explain this, please do. I daresay I couldunderstand your explanation, though you could never understand mine. 

So when the girl said, 'Who are you?' everyone understood at once, andAnthea replied--

'We are children--just like you. Don't be frightened. Won't you show uswhere you live?'

Jane put her face right into the Psammead's basket, and burrowed hermouth into its fur to whisper--

'Is it safe? Won't they eat us? Are they cannibals?'

The Psammead shrugged its fur. 

'Don't make your voice buzz like that, it tickles my ears, ' it saidrather crossly. 'You can always get back to Regent's Park in time if youkeep fast hold of the charm, ' it said. 

The strange girl was trembling with fright. 

Anthea had a bangle on her arm. It was a sevenpenny-halfpenny trumperything that pretended to be silver; it had a glass heart of turquoiseblue hanging from it, and it was the gift of the maid-of-all-work at theFitzroy Street house. 'Here, ' said Anthea, 'this is for you. That isto show we will not hurt you. And if you take it I shall know that youwon't hurt us. '

The girl held out her hand. Anthea slid the bangle over it, and thegirl's face lighted up with the joy of possession. 

'Come, ' she said, looking lovingly at the bangle; 'it is peace betweenyour house and mine. '

She picked up her fish and pitcher and led the way up the narrow path bywhich she had come and the others followed. 

'This is something like!' said Cyril, trying to be brave. 

'Yes!' said Robert, also assuming a boldness he was far from feeling, 'this really and truly IS an adventure! Its being in the Past makes itquite different from the Phoenix and Carpet happenings. '

The belt of thick-growing acacia trees and shrubs--mostly prickly andunpleasant-looking--seemed about half a mile across. The path was narrowand the wood dark. At last, ahead, daylight shone through the boughs andleaves. 

The whole party suddenly came out of the wood's shadow into the glare ofthe sunlight that shone on a great stretch of yellow sand, dotted withheaps of grey rocks where spiky cactus plants showed gaudy crimson andpink flowers among their shabby, sand-peppered leaves. Away to the rightwas something that looked like a grey-brown hedge, and from beyond itblue smoke went up to the bluer sky. And over all the sun shone till youcould hardly bear your clothes. 

'That is where I live, ' said the girl pointing. 

'I won't go, ' whispered Jane into the basket, 'unless you say it's allright. '

The Psammead ought to have been touched by this proof of confidence. Perhaps, however, it looked upon it as a proof of doubt, for it merelysnarled--

'If you don't go now I'll never help you again. '

'OH, ' whispered Anthea, 'dear Jane, don't! Think of Father and Motherand all of us getting our heart's desire. And we can go back any minute. Come on!'

'Besides, ' said Cyril, in a low voice, 'the Psammead must know there'sno danger or it wouldn't go. It's not so over and above brave itself. Come on!'

This Jane at last consented to do. 

As they got nearer to the browny fence they saw that it was a greathedge about eight feet high, made of piled-up thorn bushes. 

'What's that for?' asked Cyril. 

'To keep out foes and wild beasts, ' said the girl. 

'I should think it ought to, too, ' said he. 'Why, some of the thorns areas long as my foot. '

There was an opening in the hedge, and they followed the girl throughit. A little way further on was another hedge, not so high, also of drythorn bushes, very prickly and spiteful-looking, and within this was asort of village of huts. 

There were no gardens and no roads. Just huts built of wood and twigsand clay, and roofed with great palm-leaves, dumped down anywhere. Thedoors of these houses were very low, like the doors of dog-kennels. The ground between them was not paths or streets, but just yellow sandtrampled very hard and smooth. 

In the middle of the village there was a hedge that enclosed what seemedto be a piece of ground about as big as their own garden in Camden Town. 

No sooner were the children well within the inner thorn hedge thandozens of men and women and children came crowding round from behind andinside the huts. 

The girl stood protectingly in front of the four children, and said--

'They are wonder-children from beyond the desert. They bring marvellousgifts, and I have said that it is peace between us and them. '

She held out her arm with the Lowther Arcade bangle on it. 

The children from London, where nothing now surprises anyone, had neverbefore seen so many people look so astonished. 

They crowded round the children, touching their clothes, their shoes, the buttons on the boys' jackets, and the coral of the girls' necklaces. 

'Do say something, ' whispered Anthea. 

'We come, ' said Cyril, with some dim remembrance of a dreadful day whenhe had had to wait in an outer office while his father intervieweda solicitor, and there had been nothing to read but the DailyTelegraph--'we come from the world where the sun never sets. And peacewith honour is what we want. We are the great Anglo-Saxon or conqueringrace. Not that we want to conquer YOU, ' he added hastily. 'We only wantto look at your houses and your--well, at all you've got here, and thenwe shall return to our own place, and tell of all that we have seen sothat your name may be famed. '

Cyril's speech didn't keep the crowd from pressing round and looking aseagerly as ever at the clothing of the children. Anthea had an ideathat these people had never seen woven stuff before, and she saw howwonderful and strange it must seem to people who had never had anyclothes but the skins of beasts. The sewing, too, of modern clothesseemed to astonish them very much. They must have been able to sewthemselves, by the way, for men who seemed to be the chiefs woreknickerbockers of goat-skin or deer-skin, fastened round the waistwith twisted strips of hide. And the women wore long skimpy skirts ofanimals' skins. The people were not very tall, their hair was fair, andmen and women both had it short. Their eyes were blue, and that seemedodd in Egypt. Most of them were tattooed like sailors, only moreroughly. 

'What is this? What is this?' they kept asking touching the children'sclothes curiously. 

Anthea hastily took off Jane's frilly lace collar and handed it to thewoman who seemed most friendly. 

'Take this, ' she said, 'and look at it. And leave us alone. We want totalk among ourselves. '

She spoke in the tone of authority which she had always found successfulwhen she had not time to coax her baby brother to do as he was told. Thetone was just as successful now. The children were left together and thecrowd retreated. It paused a dozen yards away to look at the lace collarand to go on talking as hard as it could. 

The children will never know what those people said, though they knewwell enough that they, the four strangers, were the subject of the talk. They tried to comfort themselves by remembering the girl's promiseof friendliness, but of course the thought of the charm was morecomfortable than anything else. They sat down on the sand in the shadowof the hedged-round place in the middle of the village, and now for thefirst time they were able to look about them and to see something morethan a crowd of eager, curious faces. 

They here noticed that the women wore necklaces made of beads ofdifferent coloured stone, and from these hung pendants of odd, strangeshapes, and some of them had bracelets of ivory and flint. 

'I say, ' said Robert, 'what a lot we could teach them if we stayedhere!'

'I expect they could teach us something too, ' said Cyril. 'Did younotice that flint bracelet the woman had that Anthea gave the collar to?That must have taken some making. Look here, they'll get suspicious ifwe talk among ourselves, and I do want to know about how they do things. Let's get the girl to show us round, and we can be thinking about how toget the Amulet at the same time. Only mind, we must keep together. '

Anthea beckoned to the girl, who was standing a little way off lookingwistfully at them, and she came gladly. 

'Tell us how you make the bracelets, the stone ones, ' said Cyril. 

'With other stones, ' said the girl; 'the men make them; we have men ofspecial skill in such work. '

'Haven't you any iron tools?'

'Iron, ' said the girl, 'I don't know what you mean. ' It was the firstword she had not understood. 

'Are all your tools of flint?' asked Cyril. 'Of course, ' said the girl, opening her eyes wide. 

I wish I had time to tell you of that talk. The English children wantedto hear all about this new place, but they also wanted to tell of theirown country. It was like when you come back from your holidays and youwant to hear and to tell everything at the same time. As the talk wenton there were more and more words that the girl could not understand, and the children soon gave up the attempt to explain to her what theirown country was like, when they began to see how very few of the thingsthey had always thought they could not do without were really not at allnecessary to life. 

The girl showed them how the huts were made--indeed, as one was beingmade that very day she took them to look at it. The way of building wasvery different from ours. The men stuck long pieces of wood into a pieceof ground the size of the hut they wanted to make. These were abouteight inches apart; then they put in another row about eight inches awayfrom the first, and then a third row still further out. Then all thespace between was filled up with small branches and twigs, and thendaubed over with black mud worked with the feet till it was soft andsticky like putty. 

The girl told them how the men went hunting with flint spears andarrows, and how they made boats with reeds and clay. Then she explainedthe reed thing in the river that she had taken the fish out of. It was afish-trap--just a ring of reeds set up in the water with only one littleopening in it, and in this opening, just below the water, were stuckreeds slanting the way of the river's flow, so that the fish, when theyhad swum sillily in, sillily couldn't get out again. She showed them theclay pots and jars and platters, some of them ornamented with black andred patterns, and the most wonderful things made of flint and differentsorts of stone, beads, and ornaments, and tools and weapons of all sortsand kinds. 

'It is really wonderful, ' said Cyril patronizingly, 'when you considerthat it's all eight thousand years ago--'

'I don't understand you, ' said the girl. 

'It ISN'T eight thousand years ago, ' whispered Jane. 'It's NOW--andthat's just what I don't like about it. I say, DO let's get home againbefore anything more happens. You can see for yourselves the charm isn'there. '

'What's in that place in the middle?' asked Anthea, struck by a suddenthought, and pointing to the fence. 

'That's the secret sacred place, ' said the girl in a whisper. 'No oneknows what is there. There are many walls, and inside the insidest oneIT is, but no one knows what IT is except the headsmen. '

'I believe YOU know, ' said Cyril, looking at her very hard. 

'I'll give you this if you'll tell me, ' said Anthea taking off abead-ring which had already been much admired. 

'Yes, ' said the girl, catching eagerly at the ring. 'My father is one ofthe heads, and I know a water charm to make him talk in his sleep. Andhe has spoken. I will tell you. But if they know I have told you theywill kill me. In the insidest inside there is a stone box, and in itthere is the Amulet. None knows whence it came. It came from very faraway. '

'Have you seen it?' asked Anthea. 

The girl nodded. 

'Is it anything like this?' asked Jane, rashly producing the charm. 

The girl's face turned a sickly greenish-white. 

'Hide it, hide it, ' she whispered. 'You must put it back. If they see itthey will kill us all. You for taking it, and me for knowing that therewas such a thing. Oh, woe--woe! why did you ever come here?'

'Don't be frightened, ' said Cyril. 'They shan't know. Jane, don't yoube such a little jack-ape again--that's all. You see what will happen ifyou do. Now, tell me--' He turned to the girl, but before he had time tospeak the question there was a loud shout, and a man bounded in throughthe opening in the thorn-hedge. 

'Many foes are upon us!' he cried. 'Make ready the defences!'

His breath only served for that, and he lay panting on the ground. 'Oh, DO let's go home!' said Jane. 'Look here--I don't care--I WILL!'

She held up the charm. Fortunately all the strange, fair people were toobusy to notice HER. She held up the charm. And nothing happened. 

'You haven't said the word of power, ' said Anthea. 

Jane hastily said it--and still nothing happened. 

'Hold it up towards the East, you silly!' said Robert. 

'Which IS the East?' said Jane, dancing about in her agony of terror. 

Nobody knew. So they opened the fish-bag to ask the Psammead. 

And the bag had only a waterproof sheet in it. 

The Psammead was gone. 

'Hide the sacred thing! Hide it! Hide it!' whispered the girl. 

Cyril shrugged his shoulders, and tried to look as brave as he knew heought to feel. 

'Hide it up, Pussy, ' he said. 'We are in for it now. We've just got tostay and see it out. '

CHAPTER 5. THE FIGHT IN THE VILLAGE

Here was a horrible position! Four English children, whose proper datewas A. D. 1905, and whose proper address was London, set down in Egypt inthe year 6000 B. C. With no means whatever of getting back into their owntime and place. They could not find the East, and the sun was of no useat the moment, because some officious person had once explained to Cyrilthat the sun did not really set in the West at all--nor rise in the Easteither, for the matter of that. 

The Psammead had crept out of the bass-bag when they were not lookingand had basely deserted them. 

An enemy was approaching. There would be a fight. People get killedin fights, and the idea of taking part in a fight was one that did notappeal to the children. 

The man who had brought the news of the enemy still lay panting on thesand. His tongue was hanging out, long and red, like a dog's. Thepeople of the village were hurriedly filling the gaps in the fence withthorn-bushes from the heap that seemed to have been piled thereready for just such a need. They lifted the cluster-thorns with longpoles--much as men at home, nowadays, lift hay with a fork. 

Jane bit her lip and tried to decide not to cry. 

Robert felt in his pocket for a toy pistol and loaded it with a pinkpaper cap. It was his only weapon. 

Cyril tightened his belt two holes. 

And Anthea absently took the drooping red roses from the buttonholes ofthe others, bit the ends of the stalks, and set them in a pot of waterthat stood in the shadow by a hut door. She was always rather sillyabout flowers. 

'Look here!' she said. 'I think perhaps the Psammead is really arrangingsomething for us. I don't believe it would go away and leave us allalone in the Past. I'm certain it wouldn't. '

Jane succeeded in deciding not to cry--at any rate yet. 

'But what can we do?' Robert asked. 

'Nothing, ' Cyril answered promptly, 'except keep our eyes and ears open. Look! That runner chap's getting his wind. Let's go and hear what he'sgot to say. '

The runner had risen to his knees and was sitting back on his heels. Nowhe stood up and spoke. He began by some respectful remarks addressed tothe heads of the village. His speech got more interesting when he said--

'I went out in my raft to snare ibises, and I had gone up the stream anhour's journey. Then I set my snares and waited. And I heard the soundof many wings, and looking up, saw many herons circling in the air. AndI saw that they were afraid; so I took thought. A beast may scare oneheron, coming upon it suddenly, but no beast will scare a whole flock ofherons. And still they flew and circled, and would not light. So then Iknew that what scared the herons must be men, and men who knew not ourways of going softly so as to take the birds and beasts unawares. Bythis I knew they were not of our race or of our place. So, leaving myraft, I crept along the river bank, and at last came upon the strangers. They are many as the sands of the desert, and their spear-heads shinered like the sun. They are a terrible people, and their march is towardsUS. Having seen this, I ran, and did not stay till I was before you. '

'These are YOUR folk, ' said the headman, turning suddenly and angrily onCyril, 'you came as spies for them. '

'We did NOT, ' said Cyril indignantly. 'We wouldn't be spies foranything. I'm certain these people aren't a bit like us. Are they now?'he asked the runner. 

'No, ' was the answer. 'These men's faces were darkened, and their hairblack as night. Yet these strange children, maybe, are their gods, whohave come before to make ready the way for them. '

A murmur ran through the crowd. 

'No, NO, ' said Cyril again. 'We are on your side. We will help you toguard your sacred things. '

The headman seemed impressed by the fact that Cyril knew that there WEREsacred things to be guarded. He stood a moment gazing at the children. Then he said--

'It is well. And now let all make offering, that we may be strong inbattle. '

The crowd dispersed, and nine men, wearing antelope-skins, groupedthemselves in front of the opening in the hedge in the middle ofthe village. And presently, one by one, the men brought all sorts ofthings--hippopotamus flesh, ostrich-feathers, the fruit of the datepalms, red chalk, green chalk, fish from the river, and ibex from themountains; and the headman received these gifts. There was another hedgeinside the first, about a yard from it, so that there was a lane insidebetween the hedges. And every now and then one of the headmen woulddisappear along this lane with full hands and come back with handsempty. 

'They're making offerings to their Amulet, ' said Anthea. 'We'd bettergive something too. '

The pockets of the party, hastily explored, yielded a piece of pinktape, a bit of sealing-wax, and part of the Waterbury watch that Roberthad not been able to help taking to pieces at Christmas and had neverhad time to rearrange. Most boys have a watch in this condition. Theypresented their offerings, and Anthea added the red roses. 

The headman who took the things looked at them with awe, especially atthe red roses and the Waterbury-watch fragment. 

'This is a day of very wondrous happenings, ' he said. 'I have no moreroom in me to be astonished. Our maiden said there was peace between youand us. But for this coming of a foe we should have made sure. '

The children shuddered. 

'Now speak. Are you upon our side?'

'YES. Don't I keep telling you we are?' Robert said. 'Look here. I willgive you a sign. You see this. ' He held out the toy pistol. 'I shallspeak to it, and if it answers me you will know that I and the othersare come to guard your sacred thing--that we've just made the offeringsto. '

'Will that god whose image you hold in your hand speak to you alone, orshall I also hear it?' asked the man cautiously. 

'You'll be surprised when you DO hear it, ' said Robert. 'Now, then. ' Helooked at the pistol and said--

'If we are to guard the sacred treasure within'--he pointed to thehedged-in space--'speak with thy loud voice, and we shall obey. '

He pulled the trigger, and the cap went off. The noise was loud, for itwas a two-shilling pistol, and the caps were excellent. 

Every man, woman, and child in the village fell on its face on the sand. The headman who had accepted the test rose first. 

'The voice has spoken, ' he said. 'Lead them into the ante-room of thesacred thing. '

So now the four children were led in through the opening of the hedgeand round the lane till they came to an opening in the inner hedge, andthey went through an opening in that, and so passed into another lane. 

The thing was built something like this, and all the hedges were ofbrushwood and thorns: [Drawing of maze omitted. ]

'It's like the maze at Hampton Court, ' whispered Anthea. 

The lanes were all open to the sky, but the little hut in the middle ofthe maze was round-roofed, and a curtain of skins hung over the doorway. 

'Here you may wait, ' said their guide, 'but do not dare to pass thecurtain. ' He himself passed it and disappeared. 

'But look here, ' whispered Cyril, 'some of us ought to be outside incase the Psammead turns up. '

'Don't let's get separated from each other, whatever we do, ' saidAnthea. 'It's quite bad enough to be separated from the Psammead. Wecan't do anything while that man is in there. Let's all go out intothe village again. We can come back later now we know the way in. That man'll have to fight like the rest, most likely, if it comes tofighting. If we find the Psammead we'll go straight home. 

It must be getting late, and I don't much like this mazy place. '

They went out and told the headman that they would protect the treasurewhen the fighting began. And now they looked about them and were ableto see exactly how a first-class worker in flint flakes and notches anarrow-head or the edge of an axe--an advantage which no other person nowalive has ever enjoyed. The boys found the weapons most interesting. The arrow-heads were not on arrows such as you shoot from a bow, buton javelins, for throwing from the hand. The chief weapon was a stonefastened to a rather short stick something like the things gentlemenused to carry about and call life-preservers in the days of thegarrotters. 

Then there were long things like spears or lances, with flintknives--horribly sharp--and flint battle-axes. 

Everyone in the village was so busy that the place was like an ant-heapwhen you have walked into it by accident. The women were busy and eventhe children. 

Quite suddenly all the air seemed to glow and grow red--it was likethe sudden opening of a furnace door, such as you may see at WoolwichArsenal if you ever have the luck to be taken there--and then almost assuddenly it was as though the furnace doors had been shut. For the sunhad set, and it was night. 

The sun had that abrupt way of setting in Egypt eight thousand yearsago, and I believe it has never been able to break itself of the habit, and sets in exactly the same manner to the present day. The girl broughtthe skins of wild deer and led the children to a heap of dry sedge. 

'My father says they will not attack yet. Sleep!' she said, and itreally seemed a good idea. You may think that in the midst of all thesedangers the children would not have been able to sleep--but somehow, though they were rather frightened now and then, the feeling was growingin them--deep down and almost hidden away, but still growing--that thePsammead was to be trusted, and that they were really and truly safe. This did not prevent their being quite as much frightened as they couldbear to be without being perfectly miserable. 

'I suppose we'd better go to sleep, ' said Robert. 'I don't know what onearth poor old Nurse will do with us out all night; set the police onour tracks, I expect. I only wish they could find us! A dozen policemenwould be rather welcome just now. But it's no use getting into a stewover it, ' he added soothingly. 'Good night. '

And they all fell asleep. 

They were awakened by long, loud, terrible sounds that seemed to comefrom everywhere at once--horrible threatening shouts and shrieksand howls that sounded, as Cyril said later, like the voices of menthirsting for their enemies' blood. 

'It is the voice of the strange men, ' said the girl, coming to themtrembling through the dark. 'They have attacked the walls, and thethorns have driven them back. My father says they will not try againtill daylight. But they are shouting to frighten us. As though we weresavages! Dwellers in the swamps!' she cried indignantly. 

All night the terrible noise went on, but when the sun rose, as abruptlyas he had set, the sound suddenly ceased. 

The children had hardly time to be glad of this before a showerof javelins came hurtling over the great thorn-hedge, and everyonesheltered behind the huts. But next moment another shower of weaponscame from the opposite side, and the crowd rushed to other shelter. Cyril pulled out a javelin that had stuck in the roof of the hut besidehim. Its head was of brightly burnished copper. 

Then the sound of shouting arose again and the crackle of dried thorns. The enemy was breaking down the hedge. All the villagers swarmed to thepoint whence the crackling and the shouting came; they hurled stonesover the hedges, and short arrows with flint heads. The children hadnever before seen men with the fighting light in their eyes. It was verystrange and terrible, and gave you a queer thick feeling in your throat;it was quite different from the pictures of fights in the illustratedpapers at home. 

It seemed that the shower of stones had driven back the besiegers. Thebesieged drew breath, but at that moment the shouting and the cracklingarose on the opposite side of the village and the crowd hastenedto defend that point, and so the fight swayed to and fro across thevillage, for the besieged had not the sense to divide their forces astheir enemies had done. 

Cyril noticed that every now and then certain of the fighting-men wouldenter the maze, and come out with brighter faces, a braver aspect, and amore upright carriage. 

'I believe they go and touch the Amulet, ' he said. 'You know thePsammead said it could make people brave. '

They crept through the maze, and watching they saw that Cyril was right. A headman was standing in front of the skin curtain, and as the warriorscame before him he murmured a word they could not hear, and touchedtheir foreheads with something that they could not see. And thissomething he held in his hands. And through his fingers they saw thegleam of a red stone that they knew. 

The fight raged across the thorn-hedge outside. Suddenly there was aloud and bitter cry. 

'They're in! They're in! The hedge is down!'

The headman disappeared behind the deer-skin curtain. 

'He's gone to hide it, ' said Anthea. 'Oh, Psammead dear, how could youleave us!'

Suddenly there was a shriek from inside the hut, and the headmanstaggered out white with fear and fled out through the maze. Thechildren were as white as he. 

'Oh! What is it? What is it?' moaned Anthea. 'Oh, Psammead, how couldyou! How could you!'

And the sound of the fight sank breathlessly, and swelled fiercely allaround. It was like the rising and falling of the waves of the sea. 

Anthea shuddered and said again, 'Oh, Psammead, Psammead!'

'Well?' said a brisk voice, and the curtain of skins was lifted at onecorner by a furry hand, and out peeped the bat's ears and snail's eyesof the Psammead. 

Anthea caught it in her arms and a sigh of desperate relief was breathedby each of the four. 

'Oh! which IS the East!' Anthea said, and she spoke hurriedly, for thenoise of wild fighting drew nearer and nearer. 

'Don't choke me, ' said the Psammead, 'come inside. '

The inside of the hut was pitch dark. 

'I've got a match, ' said Cyril, and struck it. The floor of the hut wasof soft, loose sand. 

'I've been asleep here, ' said the Psammead; 'most comfortable it's been, the best sand I've had for a month. It's all right. Everything's allright. I knew your only chance would be while the fight was going on. That man won't come back. I bit him, and he thinks I'm an Evil Spirit. Now you've only got to take the thing and go. '

The hut was hung with skins. Heaped in the middle were the offeringsthat had been given the night before, Anthea's roses fading on the topof the heap. At one side of the hut stood a large square stone block, and on it an oblong box of earthenware with strange figures of men andbeasts on it. 

'Is the thing in there?' asked Cyril, as the Psammead pointed a skinnyfinger at it. 

'You must judge of that, ' said the Psammead. 'The man was just going tobury the box in the sand when I jumped out at him and bit him. '

'Light another match, Robert, ' said Anthea. 'Now, then quick! which isthe East?'

'Why, where the sun rises, of course!'

'But someone told us--'

'Oh! they'll tell you anything!' said the Psammead impatiently, gettinginto its bass-bag and wrapping itself in its waterproof sheet. 

'But we can't see the sun in here, and it isn't rising anyhow, ' saidJane. 

'How you do waste time!' the Psammead said. 'Why, the East's where theshrine is, of course. THERE!'

It pointed to the great stone. 

And still the shouting and the clash of stone on metal sounded nearerand nearer. The children could hear that the headmen had surrounded thehut to protect their treasure as long as might be from the enemy. Butnone dare to come in after the Psammead's sudden fierce biting of theheadman. 

'Now, Jane, ' said Cyril, very quickly. 'I'll take the Amulet, you standready to hold up the charm, and be sure you don't let it go as you comethrough. '

He made a step forward, but at that instant a great crackling overheadended in a blaze of sunlight. The roof had been broken in at one side, and great slabs of it were being lifted off by two spears. As thechildren trembled and winked in the new light, large dark hands toredown the wall, and a dark face, with a blobby fat nose, looked over thegap. Even at that awful moment Anthea had time to think that it was verylike the face of Mr Jacob Absalom, who had sold them the charm in theshop near Charing Cross. 

'Here is their Amulet, ' cried a harsh, strange voice; 'it is this thatmakes them strong to fight and brave to die. And what else have wehere--gods or demons?'

He glared fiercely at the children, and the whites of his eyes were verywhite indeed. He had a wet, red copper knife in his teeth. There was nota moment to lose. 

'Jane, JANE, QUICK!' cried everyone passionately. 

Jane with trembling hands held up the charm towards the East, and Cyrilspoke the word of power. The Amulet grew to a great arch. Out beyondit was the glaring Egyptian sky, the broken wall, the cruel, dark, big-nosed face with the red, wet knife in its gleaming teeth. Within thearch was the dull, faint, greeny-brown of London grass and trees. 

'Hold tight, Jane!' Cyril cried, and he dashed through the arch, dragging Anthea and the Psammead after him. Robert followed, clutchingJane. And in the ears of each, as they passed through the arch of thecharm, the sound and fury of battle died out suddenly and utterly, andthey heard only the low, dull, discontented hum of vast London, and thepeeking and patting of the sparrows on the gravel and the voices of theragged baby children playing Ring-o'-Roses on the yellow trampled grass. And the charm was a little charm again in Jane's hand, and there was thebasket with their dinner and the bathbuns lying just where they had leftit. 

'My hat!' said Cyril, drawing a long breath; 'that was something like anadventure. '

'It was rather like one, certainly, ' said the Psammead. 

They all lay still, breathing in the safe, quiet air of Regent's Park. 

'We'd better go home at once, ' said Anthea presently. 'Old Nurse will bemost frightfully anxious. The sun looks about the same as it did whenwe started yesterday. We've been away twenty-four hours. ' 'The buns arequite soft still, ' said Cyril, feeling one; 'I suppose the dew kept themfresh. '

They were not hungry, curiously enough. 

They picked up the dinner-basket and the Psammead-basket, and wentstraight home. 

Old Nurse met them with amazement. 

'Well, if ever I did!' she said. 'What's gone wrong? You've soon tiredof your picnic. '

The children took this to be bitter irony, which means saying the exactopposite of what you mean in order to make yourself disagreeable; aswhen you happen to have a dirty face, and someone says, 'How nice andclean you look!'

'We're very sorry, ' began Anthea, but old Nurse said--

'Oh, bless me, child, I don't care! Please yourselves and you'll pleaseme. Come in and get your dinners comf'table. I've got a potato ona-boiling. '

When she had gone to attend to the potatoes the children looked at eachother. Could it be that old Nurse had so changed that she no longercared that they should have been away from home for twenty-fourhours--all night in fact--without any explanation whatever?

But the Psammead put its head out of its basket and said--

'What's the matter? Don't you understand? You come back through thecharm-arch at the same time as you go through it. This isn't tomorrow!''Is it still yesterday?' asked Jane. 

'No, it's today. The same as it's always been. It wouldn't do to gomixing up the present and the Past, and cutting bits out of one to fitinto the other. '

'Then all that adventure took no time at all?'

'You can call it that if you like, ' said the Psammead. 'It took none ofthe modern time, anyhow. '

That evening Anthea carried up a steak for the learned gentleman'sdinner. She persuaded Beatrice, the maid-of-all-work, who had given herthe bangle with the blue stone, to let her do it. And she stayed andtalked to him, by special invitation, while he ate the dinner. 

She told him the whole adventure, beginning with--

'This afternoon we found ourselves on the bank of the River Nile, ' andending up with, 'And then we remembered how to get back, and there wewere in Regent's Park, and it hadn't taken any time at all. '

She did not tell anything about the charm or the Psammead, because thatwas forbidden, but the story was quite wonderful enough even as it wasto entrance the learned gentleman. 

'You are a most unusual little girl, ' he said. 'Who tells you all thesethings?'

'No one, ' said Anthea, 'they just happen. '

'Make-believe, ' he said slowly, as one who recalls and pronounces along-forgotten word. 

He sat long after she had left him. At last he roused himself with astart. 

'I really must take a holiday, ' he said; 'my nerves must be all out oforder. I actually have a perfectly distinct impression that the littlegirl from the rooms below came in and gave me a coherent and graphicpicture of life as I conceive it to have been in pre-dynastic Egypt. Strange what tricks the mind will play! I shall have to be morecareful. '

He finished his bread conscientiously, and actually went for a mile walkbefore he went back to his work. 

CHAPTER 6. THE WAY TO BABYLON

 'How many miles to Babylon? Three score and ten! Can I get there by candle light? Yes, and back again!'

Jane was singing to her doll, rocking it to and fro in the housewhich she had made for herself and it. The roof of the house was thedining-table, and the walls were tablecloths and antimacassars hangingall round, and kept in their places by books laid on their top ends atthe table edge. 

The others were tasting the fearful joys of domestic tobogganing. Youknow how it is done--with the largest and best tea-tray and the surfaceof the stair carpet. It is best to do it on the days when the stair rodsare being cleaned, and the carpet is only held by the nails at the top. Of course, it is one of the five or six thoroughly tip-top games thatgrown-up people are so unjust to--and old Nurse, though a brick in manyrespects, was quite enough of a standard grown-up to put her foot downon the tobogganing long before any of the performers had had half enoughof it. The tea-tray was taken away, and the baffled party entered thesitting-room, in exactly the mood not to be pleased if they could helpit. 

So Cyril said, 'What a beastly mess!'

And Robert added, 'Do shut up, Jane!'

Even Anthea, who was almost always kind, advised Jane to try anothersong. 'I'm sick to death of that, ' said she. 

It was a wet day, so none of the plans for seeing all the sights ofLondon that can be seen for nothing could be carried out. Everyone hadbeen thinking all the morning about the wonderful adventures of the daybefore, when Jane had held up the charm and it had turned into an arch, through which they had walked straight out of the present time andthe Regent's Park into the land of Egypt eight thousand years ago. The memory of yesterday's happenings was still extremely fresh andfrightening, so that everyone hoped that no one would suggest anotherexcursion into the past, for it seemed to all that yesterday'sadventures were quite enough to last for at least a week. Yet each felta little anxious that the others should not think it was afraid, andpresently Cyril, who really was not a coward, began to see that it wouldnot be at all nice if he should have to think himself one. So he said--

'I say--about that charm--Jane--come out. We ought to talk about it, anyhow. '

'Oh, if that's all, ' said Robert. 

Jane obediently wriggled to the front of her house and sat there. 

She felt for the charm, to make sure that it was still round her neck. 

'It ISN'T all, ' said Cyril, saying much more than he meant because hethought Robert's tone had been rude--as indeed it had. 

'We ought to go and look for that Amulet. What's the good of having afirst-class charm and keeping it idle, just eating its head off in thestable. '

'I'M game for anything, of course, ' said Robert; but he added, witha fine air of chivalry, 'only I don't think the girls are keen todaysomehow. '

'Oh, yes; I am, ' said Anthea hurriedly. 'If you think I'm afraid, I'mnot. '

'I am though, ' said Jane heavily; 'I didn't like it, and I won't gothere again--not for anything I won't. '

'We shouldn't go THERE again, silly, ' said Cyril; 'it would be someother place. '

'I daresay; a place with lions and tigers in it as likely as not. '

Seeing Jane so frightened, made the others feel quite brave. They saidthey were certain they ought to go. 

'It's so ungrateful to the Psammead not to, ' Anthea added, a littleprimly. 

Jane stood up. She was desperate. 

'I won't!' she cried; 'I won't, I won't, I won't! If you make me I'llscream and I'll scream, and I'll tell old Nurse, and I'll get her toburn the charm in the kitchen fire. So now, then!'

You can imagine how furious everyone was with Jane for feeling what eachof them had felt all the morning. In each breast the same thought arose, 'No one can say it's OUR fault. ' And they at once began to show Janehow angry they all felt that all the fault was hers. This made them feelquite brave. 

 'Tell-tale tit, its tongue shall be split, And all the dogs in our town shall have a little bit, '

sang Robert. 

'It's always the way if you have girls in anything. ' Cyril spoke in acold displeasure that was worse than Robert's cruel quotation, and evenAnthea said, 'Well, I'M not afraid if I AM a girl, ' which of course, wasthe most cutting thing of all. 

Jane picked up her doll and faced the others with what is sometimescalled the courage of despair. 

'I don't care, ' she said; 'I won't, so there! It's just silly goingto places when you don't want to, and when you don't know what they'regoing to be like! You can laugh at me as much as you like. You'rebeasts--and I hate you all!'

With these awful words she went out and banged the door. 

Then the others would not look at each other, and they did not feel sobrave as they had done. 

Cyril took up a book, but it was not interesting to read. Robert kickeda chair-leg absently. His feet were always eloquent in moments ofemotion. Anthea stood pleating the end of the tablecloth into folds--sheseemed earnestly anxious to get all the pleats the same size. The soundof Jane's sobs had died away. 

Suddenly Anthea said, 'Oh! let it be "pax"--poor little Pussy--you knowshe's the youngest. '

'She called us beasts, ' said Robert, kicking the chair suddenly. 

'Well, said Cyril, who was subject to passing fits of justice, 'we began, you know. At least you did. ' Cyril's justice was alwaysuncompromising. 

'I'm not going to say I'm sorry if you mean that, ' said Robert, and thechair-leg cracked to the kick he gave as he said it. 

'Oh, do let's, ' said Anthea, 'we're three to one, and Mother does sohate it if we row. Come on. I'll say I'm sorry first, though I didn'tsay anything, hardly. '

'All right, let's get it over, ' said Cyril, opening thedoor. 'Hi--you--Pussy!'

Far away up the stairs a voice could be heard singing brokenly, butstill defiantly--

 'How many miles (sniff) to Babylon? Three score and ten! (sniff) Can I get there by candle light? Yes (sniff), and back again!'

It was trying, for this was plainly meant to annoy. But Anthea would notgive herself time to think this. She led the way up the stairs, takingthree at a time, and bounded to the level of Jane, who sat on the topstep of all, thumping her doll to the tune of the song she was trying tosing. 

'I say, Pussy, let it be pax! We're sorry if you are--'

It was enough. The kiss of peace was given by all. Jane being theyoungest was entitled to this ceremonial. Anthea added a special apologyof her own. 

'I'm sorry if I was a pig, Pussy dear, ' she said--'especially becausein my really and truly inside mind I've been feeling a little as ifI'd rather not go into the Past again either. But then, do think. If wedon't go we shan't get the Amulet, and oh, Pussy, think if we could onlyget Father and Mother and The Lamb safe back! We MUST go, but we'll waita day or two if you like and then perhaps you'll feel braver. '

'Raw meat makes you brave, however cowardly you are, ' said Robert, toshow that there was now no ill-feeling, 'and cranberries--that'swhat Tartars eat, and they're so brave it's simply awful. I supposecranberries are only for Christmas time, but I'll ask old Nurse to letyou have your chop very raw if you like. '

'I think I could be brave without that, ' said Jane hastily; she hatedunderdone meat. 'I'll try. '

At this moment the door of the learned gentleman's room opened, and helooked out. 

'Excuse me, ' he said, in that gentle, polite weary voice of his, 'butwas I mistaken in thinking that I caught a familiar word just now? Wereyou not singing some old ballad of Babylon?'

'No, ' said Robert, 'at least Jane was singing "How many miles, " but Ishouldn't have thought you could have heard the words for--'

He would have said, 'for the sniffing, ' but Anthea pinched him just intime. 

'I did not hear ALL the words, ' said the learned gentleman. 'I wonderwould you recite them to me?'

So they all said together--

 'How many miles to Babylon? Three score and ten! Can I get there by candle light? Yes, and back again!'

'I wish one could, ' the learned gentleman said with a sigh. 

'Can't you?' asked Jane. 

'Babylon has fallen, ' he answered with a sigh. 'You know it was once agreat and beautiful city, and the centre of learning and Art, and nowit is only ruins, and so covered up with earth that people are not evenagreed as to where it once stood. '

He was leaning on the banisters, and his eyes had a far-away look inthem, as though he could see through the staircase window the splendourand glory of ancient Babylon. 

'I say, ' Cyril remarked abruptly. 'You know that charm we showed you, and you told us how to say the name that's on it?'

'Yes!'

'Well, do you think that charm was ever in Babylon?'

'It's quite possible, ' the learned gentleman replied. 'Such charms havebeen found in very early Egyptian tombs, yet their origin has not beenaccurately determined as Egyptian. They may have been brought from Asia. Or, supposing the charm to have been fashioned in Egypt, it might verywell have been carried to Babylon by some friendly embassy, or broughtback by the Babylonish army from some Egyptian campaign as part of thespoils of war. The inscription may be much later than the charm. Oh yes!it is a pleasant fancy, that that splendid specimen of yours was onceused amid Babylonish surroundings. ' The others looked at each other, butit was Jane who spoke. 

'Were the Babylon people savages, were they always fighting and throwingthings about?' For she had read the thoughts of the others by theunerring light of her own fears. 

'The Babylonians were certainly more gentle than the Assyrians, ' saidthe learned gentleman. 'And they were not savages by any means. A veryhigh level of culture, ' he looked doubtfully at his audience and wenton, 'I mean that they made beautiful statues and jewellery, andbuilt splendid palaces. And they were very learned--they had gloriouslibraries and high towers for the purpose of astrological andastronomical observation. '

'Er?' said Robert. 

'I mean for--star-gazing and fortune-telling, ' said the learnedgentleman, 'and there were temples and beautiful hanging gardens--'

'I'll go to Babylon if you like, ' said Jane abruptly, and the othershastened to say 'Done!' before she should have time to change her mind. 

'Ah, ' said the learned gentleman, smiling rather sadly, 'one can go sofar in dreams, when one is young. ' He sighed again, and then adding witha laboured briskness, 'I hope you'll have a--a--jolly game, ' he wentinto his room and shut the door. 

'He said "jolly" as if it was a foreign language, ' said Cyril. 'Comeon, let's get the Psammead and go now. I think Babylon seems a mostfrightfully jolly place to go to. '

So they woke the Psammead and put it in its bass-bag with the waterproofsheet, in case of inclement weather in Babylon. It was very cross, butit said it would as soon go to Babylon as anywhere else. 'The sand isgood thereabouts, ' it added. 

Then Jane held up the charm, and Cyril said--

'We want to go to Babylon to look for the part of you that was lost. Will you please let us go there through you?'

'Please put us down just outside, ' said Jane hastily; 'and then if wedon't like it we needn't go inside. '

'Don't be all day, ' said the Psammead. 

So Anthea hastily uttered the word of power, without which the charmcould do nothing. 

'Ur--Hekau--Setcheh!' she said softly, and as she spoke the charm grewinto an arch so tall that the top of it was close against the bedroomceiling. Outside the arch was the bedroom painted chest-of-drawersand the Kidderminster carpet, and the washhand-stand with the rivetedwillow-pattern jug, and the faded curtains, and the dull light ofindoors on a wet day. Through the arch showed the gleam of soft greenleaves and white blossoms. They stepped forward quite happily. Even Janefelt that this did not look like lions, and her hand hardly trembledat all as she held the charm for the others to go through, and last, slipped through herself, and hung the charm, now grown small again, round her neck. 

The children found themselves under a white-blossomed, green-leafedfruit-tree, in what seemed to be an orchard of such trees, allwhite-flowered and green-foliaged. Among the long green grass undertheir feet grew crocuses and lilies, and strange blue flowers. In thebranches overhead thrushes and blackbirds were singing, and the coo of apigeon came softly to them in the green quietness of the orchard. 

'Oh, how perfectly lovely!' cried Anthea. 

'Why, it's like home exactly--I mean England--only everything's bluer, and whiter, and greener, and the flowers are bigger. '

The boys owned that it certainly was fairly decent, and even Janeadmitted that it was all very pretty. 

'I'm certain there's nothing to be frightened of here, ' said Anthea. 

'I don't know, ' said Jane. 'I suppose the fruit-trees go on just thesame even when people are killing each other. I didn't half like whatthe learned gentleman said about the hanging gardens. I suppose theyhave gardens on purpose to hang people in. I do hope this isn't one. '

'Of course it isn't, ' said Cyril. 'The hanging gardens are just gardenshung up--_I_ think on chains between houses, don't you know, like trays. Come on; let's get somewhere. '

They began to walk through the cool grass. As far as they could see wasnothing but trees, and trees and more trees. At the end of their orchardwas another one, only separated from theirs by a little stream ofclear water. They jumped this, and went on. Cyril, who was fond ofgardening--which meant that he liked to watch the gardener at work--wasable to command the respect of the others by telling them the names ofa good many trees. There were nut-trees and almond-trees, and apricots, and fig-trees with their big five-fingered leaves. And every now andthen the children had to cross another brook. 

'It's like between the squares in Through the Looking-glass, ' saidAnthea. 

At last they came to an orchard which was quite different from the otherorchards. It had a low building in one corner. 

'These are vines, ' said Cyril superiorly, 'and I know this is avineyard. I shouldn't wonder if there was a wine-press inside that placeover there. '

At last they got out of the orchards and on to a sort of road, veryrough, and not at all like the roads you are used to. It had cypresstrees and acacia trees along it, and a sort of hedge of tamarisks, like those you see on the road between Nice and Cannes, or nearLittlehampton, if you've only been as far as that. 

And now in front of them they could see a great mass of buildings. There were scattered houses of wood and stone here and there among greenorchards, and beyond these a great wall that shone red in the earlymorning sun. The wall was enormously high--more than half the height ofSt Paul's--and in the wall were set enormous gates that shone like goldas the rising sun beat on them. Each gate had a solid square tower oneach side of it that stood out from the wall and rose above it. Beyondthe wall were more towers and houses, gleaming with gold and brightcolours. Away to the left ran the steel-blue swirl of a great river. And the children could see, through a gap in the trees, that the riverflowed out from the town under a great arch in the wall. 

'Those feathery things along by the water are palms, ' said Cyrilinstructively. 

'Oh, yes; you know everything, ' Robert replied. 'What's all thatgrey-green stuff you see away over there, where it's all flat andsandy?'

'All right, ' said Cyril loftily, '_I_ don't want to tell you anything. Ionly thought you'd like to know a palm-tree when you saw it again. '

'Look!' cried Anthea; 'they're opening the gates. '

And indeed the great gates swung back with a brazen clang, and instantlya little crowd of a dozen or more people came out and along the roadtowards them. 

The children, with one accord, crouched behind the tamarisk hedge. 

'I don't like the sound of those gates, ' said Jane. 'Fancy being insidewhen they shut. You'd never get out. '

'You've got an arch of your own to go out by, ' the Psammead put its headout of the basket to remind her. 'Don't behave so like a girl. If I wereyou I should just march right into the town and ask to see the king. '

There was something at once simple and grand about this idea, and itpleased everyone. 

So when the work-people had passed (they WERE work-people, the childrenfelt sure, because they were dressed so plainly--just one long blueshirt thing--of blue or yellow) the four children marched boldly up tothe brazen gate between the towers. The arch above the gate was quite atunnel, the walls were so thick. 

'Courage, ' said Cyril. 'Step out. It's no use trying to sneak past. Bebold!'

Robert answered this appeal by unexpectedly bursting into 'The BritishGrenadiers', and to its quick-step they approached the gates of Babylon. 

 'Some talk of Alexander, And some of Hercules, Of Hector and Lysander, And such great names as these. But of all the gallant heroes. . . '

This brought them to the threshold of the gate, and two men in brightarmour suddenly barred their way with crossed spears. 

'Who goes there?' they said. 

(I think I must have explained to you before how it was that thechildren were always able to understand the language of any place theymight happen to be in, and to be themselves understood. If not, I haveno time to explain it now. )

'We come from very far, ' said Cyril mechanically. 'From the Empire wherethe sun never sets, and we want to see your King. '

'If it's quite convenient, ' amended Anthea. 'The King (may he live forever!), ' said the gatekeeper, 'is gone to fetch home his fourteenthwife. Where on earth have you come from not to know that?'

'The Queen then, ' said Anthea hurriedly, and not taking any notice ofthe question as to where they had come from. 

'The Queen, ' said the gatekeeper, '(may she live for ever!) givesaudience today three hours after sunrising. '

'But what are we to do till the end of the three hours?' asked Cyril. 

The gatekeeper seemed neither to know nor to care. He appeared lessinterested in them than they could have thought possible. But the manwho had crossed spears with him to bar the children's way was morehuman. 

'Let them go in and look about them, ' he said. 'I'll wager my best swordthey've never seen anything to come near our little--village. ' He saidit in the tone people use for when they call the Atlantic Ocean the'herring pond'. 

The gatekeeper hesitated. 

'They're only children, after all, ' said the other, who had children ofhis own. 'Let me off for a few minutes, Captain, and I'll take themto my place and see if my good woman can't fit them up in something alittle less outlandish than their present rig. Then they can have a lookround without being mobbed. May I go?'

'Oh yes, if you like, ' said the Captain, 'but don't be all day. '

The man led them through the dark arch into the town. And it was verydifferent from London. For one thing, everything in London seems to bepatched up out of odds and ends, but these houses seemed to have beenbuilt by people who liked the same sort of things. Not that they wereall alike, for though all were squarish, they were of different sizes, and decorated in all sorts of different ways, some with paintings inbright colours, some with black and silver designs. There were terraces, and gardens, and balconies, and open spaces with trees. Their guide tookthem to a little house in a back street, where a kind-faced woman satspinning at the door of a very dark room. 

'Here, ' he said, 'just lend these children a mantle each, so that theycan go about and see the place till the Queen's audience begins. Youleave that wool for a bit, and show them round if you like. I must beoff now. '

The woman did as she was told, and the four children, wrapped in fringedmantles, went with her all about the town, and oh! how I wish I had timeto tell you all that they saw. It was all so wonderfully differentfrom anything you have ever seen. For one thing, all the houses weredazzlingly bright, and many of them covered with pictures. Some hadgreat creatures carved in stone at each side of the door. Then thepeople--there were no black frock-coats and tall hats; no dingy coatsand skirts of good, useful, ugly stuffs warranted to wear. Everyone'sclothes were bright and beautiful with blue and scarlet and green andgold. 

The market was brighter than you would think anything could be. Therewere stalls for everything you could possibly want--and for a great manythings that if you wanted here and now, want would be your master. Therewere pineapples and peaches in heaps--and stalls of crockery and glassthings, beautiful shapes and glorious colours, there were stalls fornecklaces, and clasps, and bracelets, and brooches, for woven stuffs, and furs, and embroidered linen. The children had never seen half somany beautiful things together, even at Liberty's. It seemed no time atall before the woman said--

'It's nearly time now. We ought to be getting on towards the palace. It's as well to be early. ' So they went to the palace, and when they gotthere it was more splendid than anything they had seen yet. 

For it was glowing with colours, and with gold and silver and black andwhite--like some magnificent embroidery. Flight after flight of broadmarble steps led up to it, and at the edges of the stairs stood greatimages, twenty times as big as a man--images of men with wings likechain armour, and hawks' heads, and winged men with the heads of dogs. And there were the statues of great kings. 

Between the flights of steps were terraces where fountains played, andthe Queen's Guard in white and scarlet, and armour that shone like gold, stood by twos lining the way up the stairs; and a great body of them wasmassed by the vast door of the palace itself, where it stood glitteringlike an impossibly radiant peacock in the noon-day sun. 

All sorts of people were passing up the steps to seek audience of theQueen. Ladies in richly-embroidered dresses with fringy flounces, poorfolks in plain and simple clothes, dandies with beards oiled and curled. 

And Cyril, Robert, Anthea and Jane, went with the crowd. 

At the gate of the palace the Psammead put one eye cautiously out of thebasket and whispered--

'I can't be bothered with queens. I'll go home with this lady. I'm sureshe'll get me some sand if you ask her to. '

'Oh! don't leave us, ' said Jane. The woman was giving some lastinstructions in Court etiquette to Anthea, and did not hear Jane. 

'Don't be a little muff, ' said the Psammead quite fiercely. 'It's not abit of good your having a charm. You never use it. If you want me you'veonly got to say the name of power and ask the charm to bring me to you. '

'I'd rather go with you, ' said Jane. And it was the most surprisingthing she had ever said in her life. 

Everyone opened its mouth without thinking of manners, and Anthea, whowas peeping into the Psammead's basket, saw that its mouth opened widerthan anybody's. 

'You needn't gawp like that, ' Jane went on. 'I'm not going to bebothered with queens any more than IT is. And I know, wherever it is, it'll take jolly good care that it's safe. '

'She's right there, ' said everyone, for they had observed that thePsammead had a way of knowing which side its bread was buttered. 

She turned to the woman and said, 'You'll take me home with you, won'tyou? And let me play with your little girls till the others have donewith the Queen. '

'Surely I will, little heart!' said the woman. 

And then Anthea hurriedly stroked the Psammead and embraced Jane, whotook the woman's hand, and trotted contentedly away with the Psammead'sbag under the other arm. 

The others stood looking after her till she, the woman, and the basketwere lost in the many-coloured crowd. Then Anthea turned once more tothe palace's magnificent doorway and said--

'Let's ask the porter to take care of our Babylonian overcoats. '

So they took off the garments that the woman had lent them and stoodamid the jostling petitioners of the Queen in their own English frocksand coats and hats and boots. 

'We want to see the Queen, ' said Cyril; 'we come from the far Empirewhere the sun never sets!'

A murmur of surprise and a thrill of excitement ran through the crowd. The door-porter spoke to a black man, he spoke to someone else. Therewas a whispering, waiting pause. Then a big man, with a cleanly-shavenface, beckoned them from the top of a flight of red marble steps. 

They went up; the boots of Robert clattering more than usual because hewas so nervous. A door swung open, a curtain was drawn back. A doubleline of bowing forms in gorgeous raiment formed a lane that led to thesteps of the throne, and as the children advanced hurriedly there camefrom the throne a voice very sweet and kind. 

'Three children from the land where the sun never sets! Let them drawhither without fear. '

In another minute they were kneeling at the throne's foot, saying, 'O Queen, live for ever!' exactly as the woman had taught them. And asplendid dream-lady, all gold and silver and jewels and snowy drift ofveils, was raising Anthea, and saying--

'Don't be frightened, I really am SO glad you came! The land wherethe sun never sets! I am delighted to see you! I was getting quite toodreadfully bored for anything!'

And behind Anthea the kneeling Cyril whispered in the ears of therespectful Robert--

'Bobs, don't say anything to Panther. It's no use upsetting her, but wedidn't ask for Jane's address, and the Psammead's with her. '

'Well, ' whispered Robert, 'the charm can bring them to us at any moment. IT said so. '

'Oh, yes, ' whispered Cyril, in miserable derision, 'WE'RE all right, ofcourse. So we are! Oh, yes! If we'd only GOT the charm. '

Then Robert saw, and he murmured, 'Crikey!' at the foot of the throne ofBabylon; while Cyril hoarsely whispered the plain English fact--

'Jane's got the charm round her neck, you silly cuckoo. '

'Crikey!' Robert repeated in heart-broken undertones. 

CHAPTER 7. 'THE DEEPEST DUNGEON BELOW THE CASTLE MOAT'

The Queen threw three of the red and gold embroidered cushions off thethrone on to the marble steps that led up to it. 

'Just make yourselves comfortable there, ' she said. 'I'm simply dyingto talk to you, and to hear all about your wonderful country and how yougot here, and everything, but I have to do justice every morning. Such abore, isn't it? Do you do justice in your own country?'

'No, said Cyril; 'at least of course we try to, but not in this publicsort of way, only in private. ' 'Ah, yes, ' said the Queen, 'I shouldmuch prefer a private audience myself--much easier to manage. But publicopinion has to be considered. Doing justice is very hard work, even whenyou're brought up to it. '

'We don't do justice, but we have to do scales, Jane and me, ' saidAnthea, 'twenty minutes a day. It's simply horrid. '

'What are scales?' asked the Queen, 'and what is Jane?'

'Jane is my little sister. One of the guards-at-the-gate's wife istaking care of her. And scales are music. '

'I never heard of the instrument, ' said the Queen. 'Do you sing?'

'Oh, yes. We can sing in parts, ' said Anthea. 

'That IS magic, ' said the Queen. 'How many parts are you each cut intobefore you do it?'

'We aren't cut at all, ' said Robert hastily. 'We couldn't sing if wewere. We'll show you afterwards. '

'So you shall, and now sit quiet like dear children and hear me dojustice. The way I do it has always been admired. I oughtn't to say thatought I? Sounds so conceited. But I don't mind with you, dears. SomehowI feel as though I'd known you quite a long time already. '

The Queen settled herself on her throne and made a signal to herattendants. The children, whispering together among the cushions on thesteps of the throne, decided that she was very beautiful and very kind, but perhaps just the least bit flighty. 

The first person who came to ask for justice was a woman whose brotherhad taken the money the father had left for her. The brother said itwas the uncle who had the money. There was a good deal of talk and thechildren were growing rather bored, when the Queen suddenly clapped herhands, and said--

'Put both the men in prison till one of them owns up that the other isinnocent. '

'But suppose they both did it?' Cyril could not help interrupting. 

'Then prison's the best place for them, ' said the Queen. 

'But suppose neither did it. '

'That's impossible, ' said the Queen; 'a thing's not done unless someonedoes it. And you mustn't interrupt. '

Then came a woman, in tears, with a torn veil and real ashes on herhead--at least Anthea thought so, but it may have been only road-dust. She complained that her husband was in prison. 

'What for?' said the Queen. 

'They SAID it was for speaking evil of your Majesty, ' said the woman, 'but it wasn't. Someone had a spite against him. That was what it was. '

'How do you know he hadn't spoken evil of me?' said the Queen. 

'No one could, ' said the woman simply, 'when they'd once seen yourbeautiful face. '

'Let the man out, ' said the Queen, smiling. 'Next case. '

The next case was that of a boy who had stolen a fox. 'Like the Spartanboy, ' whispered Robert. But the Queen ruled that nobody could have anypossible reason for owning a fox, and still less for stealing one. Andshe did not believe that there were any foxes in Babylon; she, at anyrate, had never seen one. So the boy was released. 

The people came to the Queen about all sorts of family quarrels andneighbourly misunderstandings--from a fight between brothers over thedivision of an inheritance, to the dishonest and unfriendly conduct ofa woman who had borrowed a cooking-pot at the last New Year's festival, and not returned it yet. 

And the Queen decided everything, very, very decidedly indeed. At lastshe clapped her hands quite suddenly and with extreme loudness, andsaid--

'The audience is over for today. '

Everyone said, 'May the Queen live for ever!' and went out. 

And the children were left alone in the justice-hall with the Queen ofBabylon and her ladies. 

'There!' said the Queen, with a long sigh of relief. 'THAT'S over! Icouldn't have done another stitch of justice if you'd offered me thecrown of Egypt! Now come into the garden, and we'll have a nice, long, cosy talk. '

She led them through long, narrow corridors whose walls they somehowfelt, were very, very thick, into a sort of garden courtyard. There werethick shrubs closely planted, and roses were trained over trellises, andmade a pleasant shade--needed, indeed, for already the sun was as hot asit is in England in August at the seaside. 

Slaves spread cushions on a low, marble terrace, and a big man with asmooth face served cool drink in cups of gold studded with beryls. Hedrank a little from the Queen's cup before handing it to her. 

'That's rather a nasty trick, ' whispered Robert, who had been carefullytaught never to drink out of one of the nice, shiny, metal cups that arechained to the London drinking fountains without first rinsing it outthoroughly. 

The Queen overheard him. 

'Not at all, ' said she. 'Ritti-Marduk is a very clean man. And one hasto have SOME ONE as taster, you know, because of poison. '

The word made the children feel rather creepy; but Ritti-Mardukhad tasted all the cups, so they felt pretty safe. The drink wasdelicious--very cold, and tasting like lemonade and partly like pennyices. 

'Leave us, ' said the Queen. And all the Court ladies, in theirbeautiful, many-folded, many-coloured, fringed dresses, filed outslowly, and the children were left alone with the Queen. 

'Now, ' she said, 'tell me all about yourselves. '

They looked at each other. 

'You, Bobs, ' said Cyril. 

'No--Anthea, ' said Robert. 

'No--you--Cyril, ' said Anthea. 'Don't you remember how pleased the Queenof India was when you told her all about us?'

Cyril muttered that it was all very well, and so it was. For when he hadtold the tale of the Phoenix and the Carpet to the Ranee, it had beenonly the truth--and all the truth that he had to tell. But now itwas not easy to tell a convincing story without mentioning theAmulet--which, of course, it wouldn't have done to mention--and withoutowning that they were really living in London, about 2, 500 years laterthan the time they were talking in. 

Cyril took refuge in the tale of the Psammead and its wonderful power ofmaking wishes come true. The children had never been able to tell anyonebefore, and Cyril was surprised to find that the spell which kept themsilent in London did not work here. 'Something to do with our being inthe Past, I suppose, ' he said to himself. 

'This is MOST interesting, ' said the Queen. 'We must have this Psammeadfor the banquet tonight. Its performance will be one of the most popularturns in the whole programme. Where is it?'

Anthea explained that they did not know; also why it was that they didnot know. 

'Oh, THAT'S quite simple, ' said the Queen, and everyone breathed a deepsigh of relief as she said it. 

'Ritti-Marduk shall run down to the gates and find out which guard yoursister went home with. '

'Might he'--Anthea's voice was tremulous--'might he--would it interferewith his meal-times, or anything like that, if he went NOW?'

'Of course he shall go now. He may think himself lucky if he gets hismeals at any time, ' said the Queen heartily, and clapped her hands. 

'May I send a letter?' asked Cyril, pulling out a red-backed pennyaccount-book, and feeling in his pockets for a stump of pencil that heknew was in one of them. 

'By all means. I'll call my scribe. '

'Oh, I can scribe right enough, thanks, ' said Cyril, finding the penciland licking its point. He even had to bite the wood a little, for it wasvery blunt. 

'Oh, you clever, clever boy!' said the Queen. 'DO let me watch you doit!'

Cyril wrote on a leaf of the book--it was of rough, woolly paper, withhairs that stuck out and would have got in his pen if he had been usingone, and ruled for accounts. 

'Hide IT most carefully before you come here, ' he wrote, 'and don'tmention it--and destroy this letter. Everything is going A1. The Queenis a fair treat. There's nothing to be afraid of. '

'What curious characters, and what a strange flat surface!' said theQueen. 'What have you inscribed?'

'I've 'scribed, ' replied Cyril cautiously, 'that you are fair, anda--and like a--like a festival; and that she need not be afraid, andthat she is to come at once. '

Ritti-Marduk, who had come in and had stood waiting while Cyril wrote, his Babylonish eyes nearly starting out of his Babylonish head, now tookthe letter, with some reluctance. 

'O Queen, live for ever! Is it a charm?' he timidly asked. 'A strongcharm, most great lady?'

'YES, ' said Robert, unexpectedly, 'it IS a charm, but it won't hurtanyone until you've given it to Jane. And then she'll destroy it, so that it CAN'T hurt anyone. It's most awful strong!--as strongas--Peppermint!' he ended abruptly. 

'I know not the god, ' said Ritti-Marduk, bending timorously. 

'She'll tear it up directly she gets it, ' said Robert, 'That'll end thecharm. You needn't be afraid if you go now. '

Ritti-Marduk went, seeming only partly satisfied; and then the Queenbegan to admire the penny account-book and the bit of pencil in somarked and significant a way that Cyril felt he could not do less thanpress them upon her as a gift. She ruffled the leaves delightedly. 

'What a wonderful substance!' she said. 'And with this style you makecharms? Make a charm for me! Do you know, ' her voice sank to a whisper, 'the names of the great ones of your own far country?'

'Rather!' said Cyril, and hastily wrote the names of Alfred the Great, Shakespeare, Nelson, Gordon, Lord Beaconsfield, Mr Rudyard Kipling, andMr Sherlock Holmes, while the Queen watched him with 'unbaited breath', as Anthea said afterwards. 

She took the book and hid it reverently among the bright folds of hergown. 

'You shall teach me later to say the great names, ' she said. 'And thenames of their Ministers--perhaps the great Nisroch is one of them?'

'I don't think so, ' said Cyril. 'Mr Campbell Bannerman's Prime Ministerand Mr Burns a Minister, and so is the Archbishop of Canterbury, Ithink, but I'm not sure--and Dr Parker was one, I know, and--'

'No more, ' said the Queen, putting her hands to her ears. 'My head'sgoing round with all those great names. You shall teach them to melater--because of course you'll make us a nice long visit now you havecome, won't you? Now tell me--but no, I am quite tired out with yourbeing so clever. Besides, I'm sure you'd like ME to tell YOU something, wouldn't you?'

'Yes, ' said Anthea. 'I want to know how it is that the King has gone--'

'Excuse me, but you should say "the King may-he-live-for-ever", ' saidthe Queen gently. 

'I beg your pardon, ' Anthea hastened to say--'the Kingmay-he-live-for-ever has gone to fetch home his fourteenth wife? I don'tthink even Bluebeard had as many as that. And, besides, he hasn't killedYOU at any rate. '

The Queen looked bewildered. 

'She means, ' explained Robert, 'that English kings only have onewife--at least, Henry the Eighth had seven or eight, but not all atonce. '

'In our country, ' said the Queen scornfully, 'a king would not reigna day who had only one wife. No one would respect him, and quite righttoo. '

'Then are all the other thirteen alive?' asked Anthea. 

'Of course they are--poor mean-spirited things! I don't associate withthem, of course, I am the Queen: they're only the wives. '

'I see, ' said Anthea, gasping. 

'But oh, my dears, ' the Queen went on, 'such a to-do as there's beenabout this last wife! You never did! It really was TOO funny. We wantedan Egyptian princess. The King may-he-live-for-ever has got a wife frommost of the important nations, and he had set his heart on an Egyptianone to complete his collection. Well, of course, to begin with, wesent a handsome present of gold. The Egyptian king sent back somehorses--quite a few; he's fearfully stingy!--and he said he liked thegold very much, but what they were really short of was lapis lazuli, soof course we sent him some. But by that time he'd begun to use the goldto cover the beams of the roof of the Temple of the Sun-God, and hehadn't nearly enough to finish the job, so we sent some more. And so itwent on, oh, for years. You see each journey takes at least six months. And at last we asked the hand of his daughter in marriage. '

'Yes, and then?' said Anthea, who wanted to get to the princess part ofthe story. 

'Well, then, ' said the Queen, 'when he'd got everything out of us thathe could, and only given the meanest presents in return, he sent tosay he would esteem the honour of an alliance very highly, onlyunfortunately he hadn't any daughter, but he hoped one would be bornsoon, and if so, she should certainly be reserved for the King ofBabylon!'

'What a trick!' said Cyril. 

'Yes, wasn't it? So then we said his sister would do, and then therewere more gifts and more journeys; and now at last the tiresome, black-haired thing is coming, and the King may-he-live-for-ever has goneseven days' journey to meet her at Carchemish. And he's gone in his bestchariot, the one inlaid with lapis lazuli and gold, with the gold-platedwheels and onyx-studded hubs--much too great an honour in my opinion. She'll be here tonight; there'll be a grand banquet to celebrate herarrival. SHE won't be present, of course. She'll be having her baths andher anointings, and all that sort of thing. We always clean our foreignbrides very carefully. It takes two or three weeks. Now it's dinnertime, and you shall eat with me, for I can see that you are of high rank. 'She led them into a dark, cool hall, with many cushions on the floor. Onthese they sat and low tables were brought--beautiful tables of smooth, blue stone mounted in gold. On these, golden trays were placed; butthere were no knives, or forks, or spoons. The children expected theQueen to call for them; but no. She just ate with her fingers, and asthe first dish was a great tray of boiled corn, and meat and raisins allmixed up together, and melted fat poured all over the tray, it was founddifficult to follow her example with anything like what we are used tothink of as good table manners. There were stewed quinces afterwards, and dates in syrup, and thick yellowy cream. It was the kind of dinneryou hardly ever get in Fitzroy Street. 

After dinner everybody went to sleep, even the children. 

The Queen awoke with a start. 

'Good gracious!' she cried, 'what a time we've slept! I must rush offand dress for the banquet. I shan't have much more than time. '

'Hasn't Ritti-Marduk got back with our sister and the Psammead yet?'Anthea asked. 

'I QUITE forgot to ask. I'm sorry, ' said the Queen. 'And of coursethey wouldn't announce her unless I told them to, except during justicehours. I expect she's waiting outside. I'll see. '

Ritti-Marduk came in a moment later. 

'I regret, ' he said, 'that I have been unable to find your sister. Thebeast she bears with her in a basket has bitten the child of the guard, and your sister and the beast set out to come to you. The police saythey have a clue. No doubt we shall have news of her in a few weeks. ' Hebowed and withdrew. 

The horror of this threefold loss--Jane, the Psammead, and theAmulet--gave the children something to talk about while the Queen wasdressing. I shall not report their conversation; it was very gloomy. Everyone repeated himself several times, and the discussion ended ineach of them blaming the other two for having let Jane go. You know thesort of talk it was, don't you? At last Cyril said--

'After all, she's with the Psammead, so SHE'S all right. The Psammead isjolly careful of itself too. And it isn't as if we were in any danger. Let's try to buck up and enjoy the banquet. '

They did enjoy the banquet. They had a beautiful bath, which wasdelicious, were heavily oiled all over, including their hair, and thatwas most unpleasant. Then, they dressed again and were presented to theKing, who was most affable. The banquet was long; there were all sortsof nice things to eat, and everybody seemed to eat and drink a gooddeal. Everyone lay on cushions and couches, ladies on one side andgentlemen on the other; and after the eating was done each lady went andsat by some gentleman, who seemed to be her sweetheart or her husband, for they were very affectionate to each other. The Court dresses hadgold threads woven in them, very bright and beautiful. 

The middle of the room was left clear, and different people came and didamusing things. There were conjurers and jugglers and snake-charmers, which last Anthea did not like at all. 

When it got dark torches were lighted. Cedar splinters dipped in oilblazed in copper dishes set high on poles. 

Then there was a dancer, who hardly danced at all, only just struckattitudes. She had hardly any clothes, and was not at all pretty. Thechildren were rather bored by her, but everyone else was delighted, including the King. 

'By the beard of Nimrod!' he cried, 'ask what you like girl, and youshall have it!'

'I want nothing, ' said the dancer; 'the honour of having pleased theKing may-he-live-for-ever is reward enough for me. '

And the King was so pleased with this modest and sensible reply that hegave her the gold collar off his own neck. 

'I say!' said Cyril, awed by the magnificence of the gift. 

'It's all right, ' whispered the Queen, 'it's not his best collar by anymeans. We always keep a stock of cheap jewellery for these occasions. And now--you promised to sing us something. Would you like my minstrelsto accompany you?'

'No, thank you, ' said Anthea quickly. The minstrels had been playing offand on all the time, and their music reminded Anthea of the band she andthe others had once had on the fifth of November--with penny horns, a tin whistle, a tea-tray, the tongs, a policeman's rattle, and a toydrum. They had enjoyed this band very much at the time. But it was quitedifferent when someone else was making the same kind of music. Anthea understood now that Father had not been really heartless andunreasonable when he had told them to stop that infuriating din. 

'What shall we sing?' Cyril was asking. 

'Sweet and low?' suggested Anthea. 

'Too soft--I vote for "Who will o'er the downs". Now then--one, two, three. 

 'Oh, who will o'er the downs so free, Oh, who will with me ride, Oh, who will up and follow me, To win a blooming bride?

 Her father he has locked the door, Her mother keeps the key; But neither bolt nor bar shall keep My own true love from me. '

Jane, the alto, was missing, and Robert, unlike the mother of the ladyin the song, never could 'keep the key', but the song, even so, wassufficiently unlike anything any of them had ever heard to rouse theBabylonian Court to the wildest enthusiasm. 

'More, more, ' cried the King; 'by my beard, this savage music is a newthing. Sing again!'

So they sang:

 'I saw her bower at twilight gray, 'Twas guarded safe and sure. I saw her bower at break of day, 'Twas guarded then no more. 

 The varlets they were all asleep, And there was none to see The greeting fair that passed there Between my love and me. '

Shouts of applause greeted the ending of the verse, and the King wouldnot be satisfied till they had sung all their part-songs (they only knewthree) twice over, and ended up with 'Men of Harlech' in unison. Thenthe King stood up in his royal robes with his high, narrow crown on hishead and shouted--

'By the beak of Nisroch, ask what you will, strangers from the landwhere the sun never sets!'

'We ought to say it's enough honour, like the dancer did, ' whisperedAnthea. 

'No, let's ask for IT, ' said Robert. 

'No, no, I'm sure the other's manners, ' said Anthea. But Robert, who wasexcited by the music, and the flaring torches, and the applause and theopportunity, spoke up before the others could stop him. 

'Give us the half of the Amulet that has on it the name UR HEKAUSETCHEH, ' he said, adding as an afterthought, 'O King, live-for-ever. '

As he spoke the great name those in the pillared hall fell on theirfaces, and lay still. All but the Queen who crouched amid her cushionswith her head in her hands, and the King, who stood upright, perfectlystill, like the statue of a king in stone. It was only for a momentthough. Then his great voice thundered out--

'Guard, seize them!'

Instantly, from nowhere as it seemed, sprang eight soldiers in brightarmour inlaid with gold, and tunics of red and white. Very splendid theywere, and very alarming. 

'Impious and sacrilegious wretches!' shouted the King. 'To the dungeonswith them! We will find a way, tomorrow, to make them speak. For withoutdoubt they can tell us where to find the lost half of It. '

A wall of scarlet and white and steel and gold closed up round thechildren and hurried them away among the many pillars of the great hall. As they went they heard the voices of the courtiers loud in horror. 

'You've done it this time, ' said Cyril with extreme bitterness. 

'Oh, it will come right. It MUST. It always does, ' said Antheadesperately. 

They could not see where they were going, because the guard surroundedthem so closely, but the ground under their feet, smooth marble atfirst, grew rougher like stone, then it was loose earth and sand, andthey felt the night air. Then there was more stone, and steps down. 

'It's my belief we really ARE going to the deepest dungeon below thecastle moat this time, ' said Cyril. 

And they were. At least it was not below a moat, but below the riverEuphrates, which was just as bad if not worse. In a most unpleasantplace it was. Dark, very, very damp, and with an odd, musty smell ratherlike the shells of oysters. There was a torch--that is to say, a copperbasket on a high stick with oiled wood burning in it. By its light thechildren saw that the walls were green, and that trickles of water randown them and dripped from the roof. There were things on the floor thatlooked like newts, and in the dark corners creepy, shiny things movedsluggishly, uneasily, horribly. 

Robert's heart sank right into those really reliable boots ofhis. Anthea and Cyril each had a private struggle with that insidedisagreeableness which is part of all of us, and which is sometimescalled the Old Adam--and both were victors. Neither of them said toRobert (and both tried hard not even to think it), 'This is YOUR doing. 'Anthea had the additional temptation to add, 'I told you so. ' And sheresisted it successfully. 

'Sacrilege, and impious cheek, ' said the captain of the guard to thegaoler. 'To be kept during the King's pleasure. I expect he means to getsome pleasure out of them tomorrow! He'll tickle them up!'

'Poor little kids, ' said the gaoler. 

'Oh, yes, ' said the captain. 'I've got kids of my own too. But itdoesn't do to let domestic sentiment interfere with one's public duties. Good night. '

The soldiers tramped heavily off in their white and red and steel andgold. The gaoler, with a bunch of big keys in his hand, stood lookingpityingly at the children. He shook his head twice and went out. 

'Courage!' said Anthea. 'I know it will be all right. It's only a dreamREALLY, you know. It MUST be! I don't believe about time being only asomething or other of thought. It IS a dream, and we're bound to wake upall right and safe. '

'Humph, ' said Cyril bitterly. And Robert suddenly said--

'It's all my doing. If it really IS all up do please not keep a down onme about it, and tell Father--Oh, I forgot. '

What he had forgotten was that his father was 3, 000 miles and 5, 000 ormore years away from him. 

'All right, Bobs, old man, ' said Cyril; and Anthea got hold of Robert'shand and squeezed it. 

Then the gaoler came back with a platter of hard, flat cakes made ofcoarse grain, very different from the cream-and-juicy-date feasts of thepalace; also a pitcher of water. 

'There, ' he said. 

'Oh, thank you so very much. You ARE kind, ' said Anthea feverishly. 

'Go to sleep, ' said the gaoler, pointing to a heap of straw in a corner;'tomorrow comes soon enough. '

'Oh, dear Mr Gaoler, ' said Anthea, 'whatever will they do to ustomorrow?'

'They'll try to make you tell things, ' said the gaoler grimly, 'and myadvice is if you've nothing to tell, make up something. Then perhapsthey'll sell you to the Northern nations. Regular savages THEY are. Goodnight. '

'Good night, ' said three trembling voices, which their owners strove invain to render firm. Then he went out, and the three were left alone inthe damp, dim vault. 

'I know the light won't last long, ' said Cyril, looking at theflickering brazier. 

'Is it any good, do you think, calling on the name when we haven't gotthe charm?' suggested Anthea. 

'I shouldn't think so. But we might try. '

So they tried. But the blank silence of the damp dungeon remainedunchanged. 

'What was the name the Queen said?' asked Cyril suddenly. 'Nisbeth--Nesbit--something? You know, the slave of the great names?'

'Wait a sec, ' said Robert, 'though I don't know why you want it. Nusroch--Nisrock--Nisroch--that's it. '

Then Anthea pulled herself together. All her muscles tightened, and themuscles of her mind and soul, if you can call them that, tightened too. 

'UR HEKAU SETCHEH, ' she cried in a fervent voice. 'Oh, Nisroch, servantof the Great Ones, come and help us!'

There was a waiting silence. Then a cold, blue light awoke in the cornerwhere the straw was--and in the light they saw coming towards them astrange and terrible figure. I won't try to describe it, because thedrawing shows it, exactly as it was, and exactly as the old Babylonianscarved it on their stones, so that you can see it in our own BritishMuseum at this day. I will just say that it had eagle's wings and aneagle's head and the body of a man. 

It came towards them, strong and unspeakably horrible. 

'Oh, go away, ' cried Anthea; but Cyril cried, 'No; stay!'

The creature hesitated, then bowed low before them on the damp floor ofthe dungeon. 

'Speak, ' it said, in a harsh, grating voice like large rusty keys beingturned in locks. 'The servant of the Great Ones is YOUR servant. What isyour need that you call on the name of Nisroch?'

'We want to go home, ' said Robert. 

'No, no, ' cried Anthea; 'we want to be where Jane is. '

Nisroch raised his great arm and pointed at the wall of the dungeon. And, as he pointed, the wall disappeared, and instead of the damp, green, rocky surface, there shone and glowed a room with rich hangingsof red silk embroidered with golden water-lilies, with cushioned couchesand great mirrors of polished steel; and in it was the Queen, andbefore her, on a red pillow, sat the Psammead, its fur hunched up inan irritated, discontented way. On a blue-covered couch lay Jane fastasleep. 

'Walk forward without fear, ' said Nisroch. 'Is there aught else that theServant of the great Name can do for those who speak that name?'

'No--oh, no, ' said Cyril. 'It's all right now. Thanks ever so. '

'You are a dear, ' cried Anthea, not in the least knowing what she wassaying. 'Oh, thank you thank you. But DO go NOW!'

She caught the hand of the creature, and it was cold and hard in hers, like a hand of stone. 

'Go forward, ' said Nisroch. And they went. 

'Oh, my good gracious, ' said the Queen as they stood before her. 'Howdid you get here? I KNEW you were magic. I meant to let you out thefirst thing in the morning, if I could slip away--but thanks be toDagon, you've managed it for yourselves. You must get away. I'll wakemy chief lady and she shall call Ritti-Marduk, and he'll let you out theback way, and--'

'Don't rouse anybody for goodness' sake, ' said Anthea, 'except Jane, andI'll rouse her. '

She shook Jane with energy, and Jane slowly awoke. 

'Ritti-Marduk brought them in hours ago, really, ' said the Queen, 'butI wanted to have the Psammead all to myself for a bit. You'll excuse thelittle natural deception?--it's part of the Babylonish character, don'tyou know? But I don't want anything to happen to you. Do let me rousesomeone. '

'No, no, no, ' said Anthea with desperate earnestness. She thought sheknew enough of what the Babylonians were like when they were roused. 'We can go by our own magic. And you will tell the King it wasn't thegaoler's fault. It was Nisroch. '

'Nisroch!' echoed the Queen. 'You are indeed magicians. '

Jane sat up, blinking stupidly. 

'Hold It up, and say the word, ' cried Cyril, catching up the Psammead, which mechanically bit him, but only very slightly. 

'Which is the East?' asked Jane. 

'Behind me, ' said the Queen. 'Why?'

'Ur Hekau Setcheh, ' said Jane sleepily, and held up the charm. 

And there they all were in the dining-room at 300, Fitzroy Street. 

'Jane, ' cried Cyril with great presence of mind, 'go and get the plateof sand down for the Psammead. '

Jane went. 

'Look here!' he said quickly, as the sound of her boots grew less loudon the stairs, 'don't let's tell her about the dungeon and all that. It'll only frighten her so that she'll never want to go anywhere else. '

'Righto!' said Cyril; but Anthea felt that she could not have said aword to save her life. 

'Why did you want to come back in such a hurry?' asked Jane, returningwith the plate of sand. 'It was awfully jolly in Babylon, I think! Iliked it no end. '

'Oh, yes, ' said Cyril carelessly. 'It was jolly enough, of course, but Ithought we'd been there long enough. Mother always says you oughtn't towear out your welcome!'

CHAPTER 8. THE QUEEN IN LONDON

'Now tell us what happened to you, ' said Cyril to Jane, when he and theothers had told her all about the Queen's talk and the banquet, and thevariety entertainment, carefully stopping short before the beginning ofthe dungeon part of the story. 

'It wasn't much good going, ' said Jane, 'if you didn't even try to getthe Amulet. '

'We found out it was no go, ' said Cyril; 'it's not to be got in Babylon. It was lost before that. We'll go to some other jolly friendly place, where everyone is kind and pleasant, and look for it there. Now tell usabout your part. '

'Oh, ' said Jane, 'the Queen's man with the smooth face--what was hisname?'

'Ritti-Marduk, ' said Cyril. 

'Yes, ' said Jane, 'Ritti-Marduk, he came for me just after the Psammeadhad bitten the guard-of-the-gate's wife's little boy, and he took me tothe Palace. And we had supper with the new little Queen from Egypt. Sheis a dear--not much older than you. She told me heaps about Egypt. Andwe played ball after supper. And then the Babylon Queen sent for me. Ilike her too. And she talked to the Psammead and I went to sleep. Andthen you woke me up. That's all. '

The Psammead, roused from its sound sleep, told the same story. 

'But, ' it added, 'what possessed you to tell that Queen that I couldgive wishes? I sometimes think you were born without even the mostrudimentary imitation of brains. '

The children did not know the meaning of rudimentary, but it sounded arude, insulting word. 

'I don't see that we did any harm, ' said Cyril sulkily. 

'Oh, no, ' said the Psammead with withering irony, 'not at all! Of coursenot! Quite the contrary! Exactly so! Only she happened to wish that shemight soon find herself in your country. And soon may mean any moment. '

'Then it's your fault, ' said Robert, 'because you might just as wellhave made "soon" mean some moment next year or next century. '

'That's where you, as so often happens, make the mistake, ' rejoined theSand-fairy. '_I_ couldn't mean anything but what SHE meant by "soon". Itwasn't my wish. And what SHE meant was the next time the King happens togo out lion hunting. So she'll have a whole day, and perhaps two, todo as she wishes with. SHE doesn't know about time only being a mode ofthought. '

'Well, ' said Cyril, with a sigh of resignation, 'we must do what we canto give her a good time. She was jolly decent to us. I say, suppose wewere to go to St James's Park after dinner and feed those ducks that wenever did feed. After all that Babylon and all those years ago, Ifeel as if I should like to see something REAL, and NOW. You'll come, Psammead?'

'Where's my priceless woven basket of sacred rushes?' asked the Psammeadmorosely. 'I can't go out with nothing on. And I won't, what's more. '

And then everybody remembered with pain that the bass bag had, in thehurry of departure from Babylon, not been remembered. 

'But it's not so extra precious, ' said Robert hastily. 'You can get themgiven to you for nothing if you buy fish in Farringdon Market. '

'Oh, ' said the Psammead very crossly indeed, 'so you presume on mysublime indifference to the things of this disgusting modern world, tofob me off with a travelling equipage that costs you nothing. Very well, I shall go to sand. Please don't wake me. '

And it went then and there to sand, which, as you know, meant to bed. The boys went to St James's Park to feed the ducks, but they went alone. 

Anthea and Jane sat sewing all the afternoon. They cut off half a yardfrom each of their best green Liberty sashes. A towel cut in two formeda lining; and they sat and sewed and sewed and sewed. What they weremaking was a bag for the Psammead. Each worked at a half of the bag. Jane's half had four-leaved shamrocks embroidered on it. They were theonly things she could do (because she had been taught how at school, and, fortunately, some of the silk she had been taught with was leftover). And even so, Anthea had to draw the pattern for her. Anthea'sside of the bag had letters on it--worked hastily but affectionately inchain stitch. They were something like this:

PSAMS TRAVEL CAR

She would have put 'travelling carriage', but she made the letters toobig, so there was no room. The bag was made INTO a bag with old Nurse'ssewing machine, and the strings of it were Anthea's and Jane's bestred hair ribbons. At tea-time, when the boys had come home with a mostunfavourable report of the St james's Park ducks, Anthea ventured toawaken the Psammead, and to show it its new travelling bag. 

'Humph, ' it said, sniffing a little contemptuously, yet at the same timeaffectionately, 'it's not so dusty. '

The Psammead seemed to pick up very easily the kind of things thatpeople said nowadays. For a creature that had in its time associatedwith Megatheriums and Pterodactyls, its quickness was really wonderful. 

'It's more worthy of me, ' it said, 'than the kind of bag that's givenaway with a pound of plaice. When do you propose to take me out in it?'

'I should like a rest from taking you or us anywhere, ' said Cyril. ButJane said--

'I want to go to Egypt. I did like that Egyptian Princess that cameto marry the King in Babylon. She told me about the larks they have inEgypt. And the cats. Do let's go there. And I told her what the birdthings on the Amulet were like. And she said it was Egyptian writing. '

The others exchanged looks of silent rejoicing at the thought of theircleverness in having concealed from Jane the terrors they had sufferedin the dungeon below the Euphrates. 

'Egypt's so nice too, ' Jane went on, 'because of Doctor Brewer'sScripture History. I would like to go there when Joseph was dreamingthose curious dreams, or when Moses was doing wonderful things withsnakes and sticks. '

'I don't care about snakes, ' said Anthea shuddering. 

'Well, we needn't be in at that part, but Babylon was lovely! We hadcream and sweet, sticky stuff. And I expect Egypt's the same. '

There was a good deal of discussion, but it all ended in everybody'sagreeing to Jane's idea. And next morning directly after breakfast(which was kippers and very nice) the Psammead was invited to get intohis travelling carriage. 

The moment after it had done so, with stiff, furry reluctance, like thatof a cat when you want to nurse it, and its ideas are not the same asyours, old Nurse came in. 

'Well, chickies, ' she said, 'are you feeling very dull?'

'Oh, no, Nurse dear, ' said Anthea; 'we're having a lovely time. We'rejust going off to see some old ancient relics. '

'Ah, ' said old Nurse, 'the Royal Academy, I suppose? Don't go wastingyour money too reckless, that's all. '

She cleared away the kipper bones and the tea-things, and when she hadswept up the crumbs and removed the cloth, the Amulet was held up andthe order given--just as Duchesses (and other people) give it to theircoachmen. 

'To Egypt, please!' said Anthea, when Cyril had uttered the wonderfulName of Power. 

'When Moses was there, ' added Jane. 

And there, in the dingy Fitzroy Street dining-room, the Amulet grewbig, and it was an arch, and through it they saw a blue, blue sky and arunning river. 

'No, stop!' said Cyril, and pulled down jane's hand with the Amulet init. 

'What silly cuckoos we all are, ' he said. 'Of course we can't go. Wedaren't leave home for a single minute now, for fear that minute shouldbe THE minute. '

'What minute be WHAT minute?' asked Jane impatiently, trying to get herhand away from Cyril. 

'The minute when the Queen of Babylon comes, ' said Cyril. And theneveryone saw it. 

For some days life flowed in a very slow, dusty, uneventful stream. 

The children could never go out all at once, because they never knewwhen the King of Babylon would go out lion hunting and leave his Queenfree to pay them that surprise visit to which she was, without doubt, eagerly looking forward. 

So they took it in turns, two and two, to go out and to stay in. 

The stay-at-homes would have been much duller than they were but for thenew interest taken in them by the learned gentleman. 

He called Anthea in one day to show her a beautiful necklace of purpleand gold beads. 

'I saw one like that, ' she said, 'in--'

'In the British Museum, perhaps?'

'I like to call the place where I saw it Babylon, ' said Antheacautiously. 

'A pretty fancy, ' said the learned gentleman, 'and quite correct too, because, as a matter of fact, these beads did come from Babylon. ' Theother three were all out that day. The boys had been going to the Zoo, and Jane had said so plaintively, 'I'm sure I am fonder of rhinocerosesthan either of you are, ' that Anthea had told her to run along then. And she had run, catching the boys before that part of the road whereFitzroy Street suddenly becomes Fitzroy Square. 

'I think Babylon is most frightfully interesting, ' said Anthea. 'I dohave such interesting dreams about it--at least, not dreams exactly, butquite as wonderful. '

'Do sit down and tell me, ' said he. So she sat down and told. And heasked her a lot of questions, and she answered them as well as shecould. 

'Wonderful--wonderful!' he said at last. 'One's heard ofthought-transference, but I never thought _I_ had any power of thatsort. Yet it must be that, and very bad for YOU, I should think. Doesn'tyour head ache very much?'

He suddenly put a cold, thin hand on her forehead. 

'No thank you, not at all, ' said she. 

'I assure you it is not done intentionally, ' he went on. 'Of course Iknow a good deal about Babylon, and I unconsciously communicate it toyou; you've heard of thought-reading, but some of the things you say, I don't understand; they never enter my head, and yet they're soastoundingly probable. '

'It's all right, ' said Anthea reassuringly. '_I_ understand. And don'tworry. It's all quite simple really. '

It was not quite so simple when Anthea, having heard the others comein, went down, and before she had had time to ask how they had liked theZoo, heard a noise outside, compared to which the wild beasts' noiseswere gentle as singing birds. 

'Good gracious!' cried Anthea, 'what's that?'

The loud hum of many voices came through the open window. Words could bedistinguished. 

''Ere's a guy!'

'This ain't November. That ain't no guy. It's a ballet lady, that's whatit is. '

'Not it--it's a bloomin' looney, I tell you. '

Then came a clear voice that they knew. 

'Retire, slaves!' it said. 

'What's she a saying of?' cried a dozen voices. 'Some blamed foreignlingo, ' one voice replied. 

The children rushed to the door. A crowd was on the road and pavement. 

In the middle of the crowd, plainly to be seen from the top of thesteps, were the beautiful face and bright veil of the Babylonian Queen. 

'Jimminy!' cried Robert, and ran down the steps, 'here she is!'

'Here!' he cried, 'look out--let the lady pass. She's a friend of ours, coming to see us. '

'Nice friend for a respectable house, ' snorted a fat woman with marrowson a handcart. 

All the same the crowd made way a little. The Queen met Robert on thepavement, and Cyril joined them, the Psammead bag still on his arm. 

'Here, ' he whispered; 'here's the Psammead; you can get wishes. '

'_I_ wish you'd come in a different dress, if you HAD to come, ' saidRobert; 'but it's no use my wishing anything. '

'No, ' said the Queen. 'I wish I was dressed--no, I don't--I wish THEYwere dressed properly, then they wouldn't be so silly. '

The Psammead blew itself out till the bag was a very tight fit for it;and suddenly every man, woman, and child in that crowd felt that it hadnot enough clothes on. For, of course, the Queen's idea of proper dresswas the dress that had been proper for the working-classes 3, 000 yearsago in Babylon--and there was not much of it. 

'Lawky me!' said the marrow-selling woman, 'whatever could a-took meto come out this figure?' and she wheeled her cart away very quicklyindeed. 

'Someone's made a pretty guy of you--talk of guys, ' said a man who soldbootlaces. 

'Well, don't you talk, ' said the man next to him. 'Look at your ownsilly legs; and where's your boots?'

'I never come out like this, I'll take my sacred, ' said thebootlace-seller. 'I wasn't quite myself last night, I'll own, but not todress up like a circus. '

The crowd was all talking at once, and getting rather angry. But no oneseemed to think of blaming the Queen. 

Anthea bounded down the steps and pulled her up; the others followed, and the door was shut. 'Blowed if I can make it out!' they heard. 'I'moff home, I am. '

And the crowd, coming slowly to the same mind, dispersed, followed byanother crowd of persons who were not dressed in what the Queen thoughtwas the proper way. 

'We shall have the police here directly, ' said Anthea in the tones ofdespair. 'Oh, why did you come dressed like that?'

The Queen leaned against the arm of the horse-hair sofa. 

'How else can a queen dress I should like to know?' she questioned. 

'Our Queen wears things like other people, ' said Cyril. 

'Well, I don't. And I must say, ' she remarked in an injured tone, 'thatyou don't seem very glad to see me now I HAVE come. But perhaps it's thesurprise that makes you behave like this. Yet you ought to be used tosurprises. The way you vanished! I shall never forget it. The best magicI've ever seen. How did you do it?'

'Oh, never mind about that now, ' said Robert. 'You see you've gone andupset all those people, and I expect they'll fetch the police. And wedon't want to see you collared and put in prison. '

'You can't put queens in prison, ' she said loftily. 'Oh, can't you?'said Cyril. 'We cut off a king's head here once. '

'In this miserable room? How frightfully interesting. '

'No, no, not in this room; in history. '

'Oh, in THAT, ' said the Queen disparagingly. 'I thought you'd done itwith your own hands. '

The girls shuddered. 

'What a hideous city yours is, ' the Queen went on pleasantly, 'and whathorrid, ignorant people. Do you know they actually can't understand asingle word I say. '

'Can you understand them?' asked Jane. 

'Of course not; they speak some vulgar, Northern dialect. I canunderstand YOU quite well. '

I really am not going to explain AGAIN how it was that the childrencould understand other languages than their own so thoroughly, and talkthem, too, so that it felt and sounded (to them) just as though theywere talking English. 

'Well, ' said Cyril bluntly, 'now you've seen just how horrid it is, don't you think you might as well go home again?' 'Why, I've seen simplynothing yet, ' said the Queen, arranging her starry veil. 'I wished to beat your door, and I was. Now I must go and see your King and Queen. '

'Nobody's allowed to, ' said Anthea in haste; 'but look here, we'll takeyou and show you anything you'd like to see--anything you CAN see, ' sheadded kindly, because she remembered how nice the Queen had been to themin Babylon, even if she had been a little deceitful in the matter ofJane and Psammead. 

'There's the Museum, ' said Cyril hopefully; 'there are lots of thingsfrom your country there. If only we could disguise you a little. '

'I know, ' said Anthea suddenly. 'Mother's old theatre cloak, and thereare a lot of her old hats in the big box. '

The blue silk, lace-trimmed cloak did indeed hide some of the Queen'sstartling splendours, but the hat fitted very badly. It had pink rosesin it; and there was something about the coat or the hat or the Queen, that made her look somehow not very respectable. 

'Oh, never mind, ' said Anthea, when Cyril whispered this. 'The thing isto get her out before Nurse has finished her forty winks. I should thinkshe's about got to the thirty-ninth wink by now. '

'Come on then, ' said Robert. 'You know how dangerous it is. Let's makehaste into the Museum. If any of those people you made guys of do fetchthe police, they won't think of looking for you there. '

The blue silk coat and the pink-rosed hat attracted almost as muchattention as the royal costume had done; and the children wereuncommonly glad to get out of the noisy streets into the grey quiet ofthe Museum. 

'Parcels and umbrellas to be left here, ' said a man at the counter. 

The party had no umbrellas, and the only parcel was the bag containingthe Psammead, which the Queen had insisted should be brought. 

'I'M not going to be left, ' said the Psammead softly, 'so don't youthink it. '

'I'll wait outside with you, ' said Anthea hastily, and went to sit onthe seat near the drinking fountain. 

'Don't sit so near that nasty fountain, ' said the creature crossly; 'Imight get splashed. '

Anthea obediently moved to another seat and waited. Indeed she waited, and waited, and waited, and waited, and waited. The Psammead droppedinto an uneasy slumber. Anthea had long ceased to watch the swing-doorthat always let out the wrong person, and she was herself almost asleep, and still the others did not come back. 

It was quite a start when Anthea suddenly realized that they HAD comeback, and that they were not alone. Behind them was quite a crowd ofmen in uniform, and several gentlemen were there. Everyone seemed veryangry. 

'Now go, ' said the nicest of the angry gentlemen. 'Take the poor, demented thing home and tell your parents she ought to be properlylooked after. '

'If you can't get her to go we must send for the police, ' said thenastiest gentleman. 

'But we don't wish to use harsh measures, ' added the nice one, who wasreally very nice indeed, and seemed to be over all the others. 

'May I speak to my sister a moment first?' asked Robert. 

The nicest gentleman nodded, and the officials stood round the Queen, the others forming a sort of guard while Robert crossed over to Anthea. 

'Everything you can think of, ' he replied to Anthea's glance of inquiry. 'Kicked up the most frightful shine in there. Said those necklaces andearrings and things in the glass cases were all hers--would have themout of the cases. Tried to break the glass--she did break one bit!Everybody in the place has been at her. No good. I only got her out bytelling her that was the place where they cut queens' heads off. '

'Oh, Bobs, what a whacker!'

'You'd have told a whackinger one to get her out. Besides, it wasn't. Imeant MUMMY queens. How do you know they don't cut off mummies' heads tosee how the embalming is done? What I want to say is, can't you get herto go with you quietly?'

'I'll try, ' said Anthea, and went up to the Queen. 

'Do come home, ' she said; 'the learned gentleman in our house has a muchnicer necklace than anything they've got here. Come and see it. '

The Queen nodded. 

'You see, ' said the nastiest gentleman, 'she does understand English. '

'I was talking Babylonian, I think, ' said Anthea bashfully. 

'My good child, ' said the nice gentleman, 'what you're talking isnot Babylonian, but nonsense. You just go home at once, and tell yourparents exactly what has happened. '

Anthea took the Queen's hand and gently pulled her away. The otherchildren followed, and the black crowd of angry gentlemen stood on thesteps watching them. It was when the little party of disgraced children, with the Queen who had disgraced them, had reached the middle of thecourtyard that her eyes fell on the bag where the Psammead was. Shestopped short. 

'I wish, ' she said, very loud and clear, 'that all those Babylonianthings would come out to me here--slowly, so that those dogs and slavescan see the working of the great Queen's magic. '

'Oh, you ARE a tiresome woman, ' said the Psammead in its bag, but itpuffed itself out. 

Next moment there was a crash. The glass swing doors and all theirframework were smashed suddenly and completely. The crowd of angrygentlemen sprang aside when they saw what had done this. 

But the nastiest of them was not quick enough, and he was roughly pushedout of the way by an enormous stone bull that was floating steadilythrough the door. It came and stood beside the Queen in the middle ofthe courtyard. 

It was followed by more stone images, by great slabs of carved stone, bricks, helmets, tools, weapons, fetters, wine-jars, bowls, bottles, vases, jugs, saucers, seals, and the round long things, something likerolling pins with marks on them like the print of little bird-feet, necklaces, collars, rings, armlets, earrings--heaps and heaps andheaps of things, far more than anyone had time to count, or even to seedistinctly. 

All the angry gentlemen had abruptly sat down on the Museum steps exceptthe nice one. He stood with his hands in his pockets just as thoughhe was quite used to seeing great stone bulls and all sorts of smallBabylonish objects float out into the Museum yard. 

But he sent a man to close the big iron gates. 

A journalist, who was just leaving the museum, spoke to Robert as hepassed. 

'Theosophy, I suppose?' he said. 'Is she Mrs Besant?'

'YES, ' said Robert recklessly. 

The journalist passed through the gates just before they were shut. 

He rushed off to Fleet Street, and his paper got out a new editionwithin half an hour. 

 MRS BESANT AND THEOSOPHY

 IMPERTINENT MIRACLE AT THE BRITISH MUSEUM. 

People saw it in fat, black letters on the boards carried by the sellersof newspapers. Some few people who had nothing better to do went downto the Museum on the tops of omnibuses. But by the time they got therethere was nothing to be seen. For the Babylonian Queen had suddenly seenthe closed gates, had felt the threat of them, and had said--

'I wish we were in your house. '

And, of course, instantly they were. 

The Psammead was furious. 

'Look here, ' it said, 'they'll come after you, and they'll find ME. There'll be a National Cage built for me at Westminster, and I shallhave to work at politics. Why wouldn't you leave the things in theirplaces?'

'What a temper you have, haven't you?' said the Queen serenely. 'I wishall the things were back in their places. Will THAT do for you?'

The Psammead swelled and shrank and spoke very angrily. 

'I can't refuse to give your wishes, ' it said, 'but I can Bite. And Iwill if this goes on. Now then. '

'Ah, don't, ' whispered Anthea close to its bristling ear; 'it's dreadfulfor us too. Don't YOU desert us. Perhaps she'll wish herself at homeagain soon. '

'Not she, ' said the Psammead a little less crossly. 

'Take me to see your City, ' said the Queen. 

The children looked at each other. 

'If we had some money we could take her about in a cab. People wouldn'tnotice her so much then. But we haven't. '

'Sell this, ' said the Queen, taking a ring from her finger. 

'They'd only think we'd stolen it, ' said Cyril bitterly, 'and put us inprison. '

'All roads lead to prison with you, it seems, ' said the Queen. 

'The learned gentleman!' said Anthea, and ran up to him with the ring inher hand. 

'Look here, ' she said, 'will you buy this for a pound?'

'Oh!' he said in tones of joy and amazement, and took the ring into hishand. 'It's my very own, ' said Anthea; 'it was given to me to sell. '

'I'll lend you a pound, ' said the learned gentleman, 'with pleasure; andI'll take care of the ring for you. Who did you say gave it to you?'

'We call her, ' said Anthea carefully, 'the Queen of Babylon. '

'Is it a game?' he asked hopefully. 

'It'll be a pretty game if I don't get the money to pay for cabs forher, ' said Anthea. 

'I sometimes think, ' he said slowly, 'that I am becoming insane, orthat--'

'Or that I am; but I'm not, and you're not, and she's not. '

'Does she SAY that she's the Queen of Babylon?' he uneasily asked. 

'Yes, ' said Anthea recklessly. 

'This thought-transference is more far-reaching than I imagined, ' hesaid. 'I suppose I have unconsciously influenced HER, too. I neverthought my Babylonish studies would bear fruit like this. Horrible!There are more things in heaven and earth--'

'Yes, ' said Anthea, 'heaps more. And the pound is the thing _I_ wantmore than anything on earth. '

He ran his fingers through his thin hair. 

'This thought-transference!' he said. 'It's undoubtedly a Babylonianring--or it seems so to me. But perhaps I have hypnotized myself. I willsee a doctor the moment I have corrected the last proofs of my book. '

'Yes, do!' said Anthea, 'and thank you so very much. '

She took the sovereign and ran down to the others. 

And now from the window of a four-wheeled cab the Queen of Babylonbeheld the wonders of London. Buckingham Palace she thoughtuninteresting; Westminster Abbey and the Houses of Parliament littlebetter. But she liked the Tower, and the River, and the ships filled herwith wonder and delight. 

'But how badly you keep your slaves. How wretched and poor and neglectedthey seem, ' she said, as the cab rattled along the Mile End Road. 

'They aren't slaves; they're working-people, ' said Jane. 

'Of course they're working. That's what slaves are. Don't you tell me. Do you suppose I don't know a slave's face when I see it?

Why don't their masters see that they're better fed and better clothed?Tell me in three words. '

No one answered. The wage-system of modern England is a little difficultto explain in three words even if you understand it--which the childrendidn't. 

'You'll have a revolt of your slaves if you're not careful, ' said theQueen. 

'Oh, no, ' said Cyril; 'you see they have votes--that makes them safe notto revolt. It makes all the difference. Father told me so. '

'What is this vote?' asked the Queen. 'Is it a charm? What do they dowith it?'

'I don't know, ' said the harassed Cyril; 'it's just a vote, that's all!They don't do anything particular with it. '

'I see, ' said the Queen; 'a sort of plaything. Well, I wish that allthese slaves may have in their hands this moment their fill of theirfavourite meat and drink. '

Instantly all the people in the Mile End Road, and in all the otherstreets where poor people live, found their hands full of things to eatand drink. From the cab window could be seen persons carrying every kindof food, and bottles and cans as well. Roast meat, fowls, red lobsters, great yellowy crabs, fried fish, boiled pork, beef-steak puddings, bakedonions, mutton pies; most of the young people had oranges and sweetsand cake. It made an enormous change in the look of the Mile EndRoad--brightened it up, so to speak, and brightened up, more than youcan possibly imagine, the faces of the people. 

'Makes a difference, doesn't it?' said the Queen. 

'That's the best wish you've had yet, ' said Jane with cordial approval. 

just by the Bank the cabman stopped. 

'I ain't agoin' to drive you no further, ' he said. 'Out you gets. '

They got out rather unwillingly. 

'I wants my tea, ' he said; and they saw that on the box of the cab was amound of cabbage, with pork chops and apple sauce, a duck, and a spottedcurrant pudding. Also a large can. 

'You pay me my fare, ' he said threateningly, and looked down at themound, muttering again about his tea. 

'We'll take another cab, ' said Cyril with dignity. 'Give me change for asovereign, if you please. '

But the cabman, as it turned out, was not at all a nice character. Hetook the sovereign, whipped up his horse, and disappeared in the streamof cabs and omnibuses and wagons, without giving them any change at all. 

Already a little crowd was collecting round the party. 

'Come on, ' said Robert, leading the wrong way. 

The crowd round them thickened. They were in a narrow street where manygentlemen in black coats and without hats were standing about on thepavement talking very loudly. 

'How ugly their clothes are, ' said the Queen of Babylon. 'They'd berather fine men, some of them, if they were dressed decently, especiallythe ones with the beautiful long, curved noses. I wish they were dressedlike the Babylonians of my court. '

And of course, it was so. 

The moment the almost fainting Psammead had blown itself out every manin Throgmorton Street appeared abruptly in Babylonian full dress. 

All were carefully powdered, their hair and beards were scented andcurled, their garments richly embroidered. They wore rings and armlets, flat gold collars and swords, and impossible-looking head-dresses. 

A stupefied silence fell on them. 

'I say, ' a youth who had always been fair-haired broke that silence, 'it's only fancy of course--something wrong with my eyes--but you chapsdo look so rum. '

'Rum, ' said his friend. 'Look at YOU. You in a sash! My hat! And yourhair's gone black and you've got a beard. It's my belief we've beenpoisoned. You do look a jackape. '

'Old Levinstein don't look so bad. But how was it DONE--that's what Iwant to know. How was it done? Is it conjuring, or what?'

'I think it is chust a ver' bad tream, ' said old Levinstein to hisclerk; 'all along Bishopsgate I haf seen the gommon people have theirhants full of food--GOOT food. Oh yes, without doubt a very bad tream!'

'Then I'm dreaming too, Sir, ' said the clerk, looking down at his legswith an expression of loathing. 'I see my feet in beastly sandals asplain as plain. '

'All that goot food wasted, ' said old Mr Levinstein. A bad tream--a badtream. '

The Members of the Stock Exchange are said to be at all times a noisylot. But the noise they made now to express their disgust at thecostumes of ancient Babylon was far louder than their ordinary row. Onehad to shout before one could hear oneself speak. 

'I only wish, ' said the clerk who thought it was conjuring--he was quiteclose to the children and they trembled, because they knew that whateverhe wished would come true. 'I only wish we knew who'd done it. '

And, of course, instantly they did know, and they pressed round theQueen. 

'Scandalous! Shameful! Ought to be put down by law. Give her in charge. Fetch the police, ' two or three voices shouted at once. 

The Queen recoiled. 

'What is it?' she asked. 'They sound like caged lions--lions by thethousand. What is it that they say?'

'They say "Police!", ' said Cyril briefly. 'I knew they would sooner orlater. And I don't blame them, mind you. '

'I wish my guards were here!' cried the Queen. The exhausted Psammeadwas panting and trembling, but the Queen's guards in red and greengarments, and brass and iron gear, choked Throgmorton Street, and baredweapons flashed round the Queen. 

'I'm mad, ' said a Mr Rosenbaum; 'dat's what it is--mad!'

'It's a judgement on you, Rosy, ' said his partner. 'I always said youwere too hard in that matter of Flowerdew. It's a judgement, and I'm init too. '

The members of the Stock Exchange had edged carefully away from thegleaming blades, the mailed figures, the hard, cruel Eastern faces. 

But Throgmorton Street is narrow, and the crowd was too thick for themto get away as quickly as they wished. 

'Kill them, ' cried the Queen. 'Kill the dogs!'

The guards obeyed. 

'It IS all a dream, ' cried Mr Levinstein, cowering in a doorway behindhis clerk. 

'It isn't, ' said the clerk. 'It isn't. Oh, my good gracious! thoseforeign brutes are killing everybody. Henry Hirsh is down now, andPrentice is cut in two--oh, Lord! and Huth, and there goes Lionel Cohenwith his head off, and Guy Nickalls has lost his head now. A dream? Iwish to goodness it was all a dream. '

And, of course, instantly it was! The entire Stock Exchange rubbed itseyes and went back to close, to over, and either side of seven-eights, and Trunks, and Kaffirs, and Steel Common, and Contangoes, andBackwardations, Double Options, and all the interesting subjectsconcerning which they talk in the Street without ceasing. 

No one said a word about it to anyone else. I think I have explainedbefore that business men do not like it to be known that they havebeen dreaming in business hours. Especially mad dreams including suchdreadful things as hungry people getting dinners, and the destruction ofthe Stock Exchange. 

The children were in the dining-room at 300, Fitzroy Street, pale andtrembling. The Psammead crawled out of the embroidered bag, and lay flaton the table, its leg stretched out, looking more like a dead hare thananything else. 

'Thank Goodness that's over, ' said Anthea, drawing a deep breath. 

'She won't come back, will she?' asked Jane tremulously. 

'No, ' said Cyril. 'She's thousands of years ago. But we spent a wholeprecious pound on her. It'll take all our pocket-money for ages to paythat back. '

'Not if it was ALL a dream, ' said Robert. 

'The wish said ALL a dream, you know, Panther; you cut up and ask if helent you anything. '

'I beg your pardon, ' said Anthea politely, following the sound of herknock into the presence of the learned gentleman, 'I'm so sorry totrouble you, but DID you lend me a pound today?'

'No, ' said he, looking kindly at her through his spectacles. 'But it'sextraordinary that you should ask me, for I dozed for a few moments thisafternoon, a thing I very rarely do, and I dreamed quite distinctly thatyou brought me a ring that you said belonged to the Queen of Babylon, and that I lent you a sovereign and that you left one of the Queen'srings here. The ring was a magnificent specimen. ' He sighed. 'I wish ithadn't been a dream, ' he said smiling. He was really learning to smilequite nicely. 

Anthea could not be too thankful that the Psammead was not there togrant his wish. 

CHAPTER 9. ATLANTIS

You will understand that the adventure of the Babylonian queen in Londonwas the only one that had occupied any time at all. But the children'stime was very fully taken up by talking over all the wonderful thingsseen and done in the Past, where, by the power of the Amulet, theyseemed to spend hours and hours, only to find when they got back toLondon that the whole thing had been briefer than a lightning flash. 

They talked of the Past at their meals, in their walks, in thedining-room, in the first-floor drawing-room, but most of all on thestairs. It was an old house; it had once been a fashionable one, and wasa fine one still. The banister rails of the stairs were excellent forsliding down, and in the corners of the landings were big alcoves thathad once held graceful statues, and now quite often held the gracefulforms of Cyril, Robert, Anthea, and Jane. 

One day Cyril and Robert in tight white underclothing had spent apleasant hour in reproducing the attitudes of statues seen either in theBritish Museum, or in Father's big photograph book. But the show endedabruptly because Robert wanted to be the Venus of Milo, and for thispurpose pulled at the sheet which served for drapery at the very momentwhen Cyril, looking really quite like the Discobolos--with a gold andwhite saucer for the disc--was standing on one foot, and under that onefoot was the sheet. 

Of course the Discobolos and his disc and the would-be Venus came downtogether, and everyone was a good deal hurt, especially the saucer, which would never be the same again, however neatly one might join itsuneven bits with Seccotine or the white of an egg. 

'I hope you're satisfied, ' said Cyril, holding his head where a largelump was rising. 

'Quite, thanks, ' said Robert bitterly. His thumb had caught in thebanisters and bent itself back almost to breaking point. 

'I AM so sorry, poor, dear Squirrel, ' said Anthea; 'and you were lookingso lovely. I'll get a wet rag. Bobs, go and hold your hand under thehot-water tap. It's what ballet girls do with their legs when they hurtthem. I saw it in a book. '

'What book?' said Robert disagreeably. But he went. 

When he came back Cyril's head had been bandaged by his sisters, and hehad been brought to the state of mind where he was able reluctantly toadmit that he supposed Robert hadn't done it on purpose. 

Robert replying with equal suavity, Anthea hastened to lead the talkaway from the accident. 

'I suppose you don't feel like going anywhere through the Amulet, ' shesaid. 

'Egypt!' said Jane promptly. 'I want to see the pussy cats. '

'Not me--too hot, ' said Cyril. 'It's about as much as I can standhere--let alone Egypt. ' It was indeed, hot, even on the second landing, which was the coolest place in the house. 'Let's go to the North Pole. '

'I don't suppose the Amulet was ever there--and we might get our fingersfrost-bitten so that we could never hold it up to get home again. Nothanks, ' said Robert. 

'I say, ' said Jane, 'let's get the Psammead and ask its advice. It willlike us asking, even if we don't take it. '

The Psammead was brought up in its green silk embroidered bag, butbefore it could be asked anything the door of the learned gentleman'sroom opened and the voice of the visitor who had been lunching with himwas heard on the stairs. He seemed to be speaking with the door handlein his hand. 

'You see a doctor, old boy, ' he said; 'all that aboutthought-transference is just simply twaddle. You've been over-working. Take a holiday. Go to Dieppe. '

'I'd rather go to Babylon, ' said the learned gentleman. 

'I wish you'd go to Atlantis some time, while we're about it, so as togive me some tips for my Nineteenth Century article when you come home. '

'I wish I could, ' said the voice of the learned gentleman. 'Goodbye. Take care of yourself. '

The door was banged, and the visitor came smiling down the stairs--astout, prosperous, big man. The children had to get up to let him pass. 

'Hullo, Kiddies, ' he said, glancing at the bandages on the head of Cyriland the hand of Robert, 'been in the wars?'

'It's all right, ' said Cyril. 'I say, what was that Atlantic place youwanted him to go to? We couldn't help hearing you talk. '

'You talk so VERY loud, you see, ' said Jane soothingly. 

'Atlantis, ' said the visitor, 'the lost Atlantis, garden of theHesperides. Great continent--disappeared in the sea. You can read aboutit in Plato. '

'Thank you, ' said Cyril doubtfully. 

'Were there any Amulets there?' asked Anthea, made anxious by a suddenthought. 

'Hundreds, I should think. So HE'S been talking to you?'

'Yes, often. He's very kind to us. We like him awfully. '

'Well, what he wants is a holiday; you persuade him to take one. Whathe wants is a change of scene. You see, his head is crusted so thicklyinside with knowledge about Egypt and Assyria and things that you can'thammer anything into it unless you keep hard at it all day long for daysand days. And I haven't time. But you live in the house. You can hammeralmost incessantly. Just try your hands, will you? Right. So long!'

He went down the stairs three at a time, and Jane remarked that he was anice man, and she thought he had little girls of his own. 

'I should like to have them to play with, ' she added pensively. 

The three elder ones exchanged glances. Cyril nodded. 

'All right. LET'S go to Atlantis, ' he said. 

'Let's go to Atlantis and take the learned gentleman with us, ' saidAnthea; 'he'll think it's a dream, afterwards, but it'll certainly be achange of scene. '

'Why not take him to nice Egypt?' asked Jane. 

'Too hot, ' said Cyril shortly. 

'Or Babylon, where he wants to go?'

'I've had enough of Babylon, ' said Robert, 'at least for the present. And so have the others. I don't know why, ' he added, forestalling thequestion on Jane's lips, 'but somehow we have. Squirrel, let's takeoff these beastly bandages and get into flannels. We can't go in ourunders. '

'He WISHED to go to Atlantis, so he's got to go some time; and he mightas well go with us, ' said Anthea. 

This was how it was that the learned gentleman, permitting himself a fewmoments of relaxation in his chair, after the fatigue of listening toopinions (about Atlantis and many other things) with which he did notat all agree, opened his eyes to find his four young friends standing infront of him in a row. 

'Will you come, ' said Anthea, 'to Atlantis with us?'

'To know that you are dreaming shows that the dream is nearly at anend, ' he told himself; 'or perhaps it's only a game, like "How manymiles to Babylon?". ' So he said aloud: 'Thank you very much, but I haveonly a quarter of an hour to spare. '

'It doesn't take any time, ' said Cyril; 'time is only a mode of thought, you know, and you've got to go some time, so why not with us?'

'Very well, ' said the learned gentleman, now quite certain that he wasdreaming. 

Anthea held out her soft, pink hand. He took it. She pulled him gentlyto his feet. Jane held up the Amulet. 

'To just outside Atlantis, ' said Cyril, and Jane said the Name of Power. 

'You owl!' said Robert, 'it's an island. Outside an island's all water. '

'I won't go. I WON'T, ' said the Psammead, kicking and struggling in itsbag. 

But already the Amulet had grown to a great arch. Cyril pushed thelearned gentleman, as undoubtedly the first-born, through the arch--notinto water, but on to a wooden floor, out of doors. The others followed. The Amulet grew smaller again, and there they all were, standing on thedeck of a ship whose sailors were busy making her fast with chains torings on a white quay-side. The rings and the chains were of a metalthat shone red-yellow like gold. 

Everyone on the ship seemed too busy at first to notice the group ofnewcomers from Fitzroy Street. Those who seemed to be officers wereshouting orders to the men. 

They stood and looked across the wide quay to the town that rose beyondit. What they saw was the most beautiful sight any of them had everseen--or ever dreamed of. 

The blue sea sparkled in soft sunlight; little white-capped waves brokesoftly against the marble breakwaters that guarded the shipping of agreat city from the wilderness of winter winds and seas. The quay was ofmarble, white and sparkling with a veining bright as gold. The citywas of marble, red and white. The greater buildings that seemed to betemples and palaces were roofed with what looked like gold and silver, but most of the roofs were of copper that glowed golden-red on thehouses on the hills among which the city stood, and shaded intomarvellous tints of green and blue and purple where they had beentouched by the salt sea spray and the fumes of the dyeing and smeltingworks of the lower town. 

Broad and magnificent flights of marble stairs led up from the quay to asort of terrace that seemed to run along for miles, and beyond rose thetown built on a hill. 

The learned gentleman drew a long breath. 'Wonderful!' he said, 'wonderful!'

'I say, Mr--what's your name, ' said Robert. 'He means, ' said Anthea, with gentle politeness, 'that we never can remember your name. I knowit's Mr De Something. '

'When I was your age I was called Jimmy, ' he said timidly. 'Would youmind? I should feel more at home in a dream like this if I--Anythingthat made me seem more like one of you. '

'Thank you--Jimmy, ' said Anthea with an effort. It seemed such a cheekto be saying Jimmy to a grown-up man. 'Jimmy, DEAR, ' she added, with noeffort at all. Jimmy smiled and looked pleased. 

But now the ship was made fast, and the Captain had time to notice otherthings. He came towards them, and he was dressed in the best of allpossible dresses for the seafaring life. 

'What are you doing here?' he asked rather fiercely. 'Do you come tobless or to curse?'

'To bless, of course, ' said Cyril. 'I'm sorry if it annoys you, butwe're here by magic. We come from the land of the sun-rising, ' he wenton explanatorily. 

'I see, ' said the Captain; no one had expected that he would. 'I didn'tnotice at first, but of course I hope you're a good omen. It's needed. And this, ' he pointed to the learned gentleman, 'your slave, I presume?'

'Not at all, ' said Anthea; 'he's a very great man. A sage, don't theycall it? And we want to see all your beautiful city, and your templesand things, and then we shall go back, and he will tell his friend, andhis friend will write a book about it. '

'What, ' asked the Captain, fingering a rope, 'is a book?'

'A record--something written, or, ' she added hastily, remembering theBabylonian writing, 'or engraved. '

Some sudden impulse of confidence made Jane pluck the Amulet from theneck of her frock. 

'Like this, ' she said. 

The Captain looked at it curiously, but, the other three were relievedto notice, without any of that overwhelming interest which the mere nameof it had roused in Egypt and Babylon. 

'The stone is of our country, ' he said; 'and that which is engraved onit, it is like our writing, but I cannot read it. What is the name ofyour sage?'

'Ji-jimmy, ' said Anthea hesitatingly. 

The Captain repeated, 'Ji-jimmy. Will you land?' he added. 'And shall Ilead you to the Kings?'

'Look here, ' said Robert, 'does your King hate strangers?'

'Our Kings are ten, ' said the Captain, 'and the Royal line, unbrokenfrom Poseidon, the father of us all, has the noble tradition to dohonour to strangers if they come in peace. '

'Then lead on, please, ' said Robert, 'though I SHOULD like to see allover your beautiful ship, and sail about in her. '

'That shall be later, ' said the Captain; 'just now we're afraid of astorm--do you notice that odd rumbling?'

'That's nothing, master, ' said an old sailor who stood near; 'it's thepilchards coming in, that's all. '

'Too loud, ' said the Captain. 

There was a rather anxious pause; then the Captain stepped on to thequay, and the others followed him. 

'Do talk to him--Jimmy, ' said Anthea as they went; 'you can find out allsorts of things for your friend's book. '

'Please excuse me, ' he said earnestly. 'If I talk I shall wake up; andbesides, I can't understand what he says. '

No one else could think of anything to say, so that it was in completesilence that they followed the Captain up the marble steps and throughthe streets of the town. There were streets and shops and houses andmarkets. 

'It's just like Babylon, ' whispered Jane, 'only everything's perfectlydifferent. '

'It's a great comfort the ten Kings have been properly brought up--to bekind to strangers, ' Anthea whispered to Cyril. 

'Yes, ' he said, 'no deepest dungeons here. '

There were no horses or chariots in the street, but there were handcartsand low trolleys running on thick log-wheels, and porters carryingpackets on their heads, and a good many of the people were riding onwhat looked like elephants, only the great beasts were hairy, and theyhad not that mild expression we are accustomed to meet on the faces ofthe elephants at the Zoo. 

'Mammoths!' murmured the learned gentleman, and stumbled over a loosestone. 

The people in the streets kept crowding round them as they went along, but the Captain always dispersed the crowd before it grew uncomfortablythick by saying--

'Children of the Sun God and their High Priest--come to bless the City. '

And then the people would draw back with a low murmur that sounded likea suppressed cheer. 

Many of the buildings were covered with gold, but the gold on the biggerbuildings was of a different colour, and they had sorts of steeples ofburnished silver rising above them. 

'Are all these houses real gold?' asked Jane. 

'The temples are covered with gold, of course, ' answered the Captain, 'but the houses are only oricalchum. It's not quite so expensive. '

The learned gentleman, now very pale, stumbled along in a dazed way, repeating:

'Oricalchum--oricalchum. '

'Don't be frightened, ' said Anthea; 'we can get home in a minute, justby holding up the charm. Would you rather go back now? We could easilycome some other day without you. '

'Oh, no, no, ' he pleaded fervently; 'let the dream go on. Please, pleasedo. '

'The High Ji-jimmy is perhaps weary with his magic journey, ' said theCaptain, noticing the blundering walk of the learned gentleman; 'andwe are yet very far from the Great Temple, where today the Kings makesacrifice. '

He stopped at the gate of a great enclosure. It seemed to be a sort ofpark, for trees showed high above its brazen wall. 

The party waited, and almost at once the Captain came back with one ofthe hairy elephants and begged them to mount. 

This they did. 

It was a glorious ride. The elephant at the Zoo--to ride on him is alsoglorious, but he goes such a very little way, and then he goes backagain, which is always dull. But this great hairy beast went on and onand on along streets and through squares and gardens. It was a gloriouscity; almost everything was built of marble, red, or white, or black. Every now and then the party crossed a bridge. 

It was not till they had climbed to the hill which is the centre of thetown that they saw that the whole city was divided into twenty circles, alternately land and water, and over each of the water circles were thebridges by which they had come. 

And now they were in a great square. A vast building filled up one sideof it; it was overlaid with gold, and had a dome of silver. The rest ofthe buildings round the square were of oricalchum. And it looked moresplendid than you can possibly imagine, standing up bold and shining inthe sunlight. 

'You would like a bath, ' said the Captain, as the hairy elephant wentclumsily down on his knees. 'It's customary, you know, before enteringthe Presence. We have baths for men, women, horses, and cattle. The HighClass Baths are here. Our Father Poseidon gave us a spring of hot waterand one of cold. '

The children had never before bathed in baths of gold. 

'It feels very splendid, ' said Cyril, splashing. 

'At least, of course, it's not gold; it's or--what's its name, ' saidRobert. 'Hand over that towel. '

The bathing hall had several great pools sunk below the level of thefloor; one went down to them by steps. 

'Jimmy, ' said Anthea timidly, when, very clean and boiled-looking, theyall met in the flowery courtyard of the Public, 'don't you think allthis seems much more like NOW than Babylon or Egypt--? Oh, I forgot, you've never been there. '

'I know a little of those nations, however, ' said he, 'and I quite agreewith you. A most discerning remark--my dear, ' he added awkwardly; 'thiscity certainly seems to indicate a far higher level of civilization thanthe Egyptian or Babylonish, and--'

'Follow me, ' said the Captain. 'Now, boys, get out of the way. ' Hepushed through a little crowd of boys who were playing with driedchestnuts fastened to a string. 

'Ginger!' remarked Robert, 'they're playing conkers, just like the kidsin Kentish Town Road!'

They could see now that three walls surrounded the island on which theywere. The outermost wall was of brass, the Captain told them; the next, which looked like silver, was covered with tin; and the innermost onewas of oricalchum. 

And right in the middle was a wall of gold, with golden towers andgates. 

'Behold the Temples of Poseidon, ' said the Captain. 'It is not lawfulfor me to enter. I will await your return here. '

He told them what they ought to say, and the five people from FitzroyStreet took hands and went forward. The golden gates slowly opened. 

'We are the children of the Sun, ' said Cyril, as he had been told, 'andour High Priest, at least that's what the Captain calls him. We have adifferent name for him at home. ' 'What is his name?' asked a white-robedman who stood in the doorway with his arms extended. 

'Ji-jimmy, ' replied Cyril, and he hesitated as Anthea had done. It really did seem to be taking a great liberty with so learned agentleman. 'And we have come to speak with your Kings in the Temple ofPoseidon--does that word sound right?' he whispered anxiously. 

'Quite, ' said the learned gentleman. 'It's very odd I can understandwhat you say to them, but not what they say to you. '

'The Queen of Babylon found that too, ' said Cyril; 'it's part of themagic. '

'Oh, what a dream!' said the learned gentleman. 

The white-robed priest had been joined by others, and all were bowinglow. 

'Enter, ' he said, 'enter, Children of the Sun, with your High Ji-jimmy. '

In an inner courtyard stood the Temple--all of silver, with goldpinnacles and doors, and twenty enormous statues in bright gold of menand women. Also an immense pillar of the other precious yellow metal. 

They went through the doors, and the priest led them up a stair into agallery from which they could look down on to the glorious place. 

'The ten Kings are even now choosing the bull. It is not lawful for meto behold, ' said the priest, and fell face downward on the floor outsidethe gallery. The children looked down. 

The roof was of ivory adorned with the three precious metals, and thewalls were lined with the favourite oricalchum. 

At the far end of the Temple was a statue group, the like of which noone living has ever seen. 

It was of gold, and the head of the chief figure reached to the roof. That figure was Poseidon, the Father of the City. He stood in a greatchariot drawn by six enormous horses, and round about it were a hundredmermaids riding on dolphins. 

Ten men, splendidly dressed and armed only with sticks and ropes, weretrying to capture one of some fifteen bulls who ran this way and thatabout the floor of the Temple. The children held their breath, for thebulls looked dangerous, and the great horned heads were swinging moreand more wildly. 

Anthea did not like looking at the bulls. She looked about the gallery, and noticed that another staircase led up from it to a still higherstorey; also that a door led out into the open air, where there seemedto be a balcony. 

So that when a shout went up and Robert whispered, 'Got him, ' and shelooked down and saw the herd of bulls being driven out of the Temple bywhips, and the ten Kings following, one of them spurring with hisstick a black bull that writhed and fought in the grip of a lasso, sheanswered the boy's agitated, 'Now we shan't see anything more, ' with--

'Yes we can, there's an outside balcony. '

So they crowded out. 

But very soon the girls crept back. 

'I don't like sacrifices, ' Jane said. So she and Anthea went and talkedto the priest, who was no longer lying on his face, but sitting on thetop step mopping his forehead with his robe, for it was a hot day. 

'It's a special sacrifice, ' he said; 'usually it's only done on thejustice days every five years and six years alternately. And then theydrink the cup of wine with some of the bull's blood in it, and swearto judge truly. And they wear the sacred blue robe, and put out all theTemple fires. But this today is because the City's so upset by the oddnoises from the sea, and the god inside the big mountain speaking withhis thunder-voice. But all that's happened so often before. If anythingcould make ME uneasy it wouldn't be THAT. '

'What would it be?' asked Jane kindly. 

'It would be the Lemmings. '

'Who are they--enemies?'

'They're a sort of rat; and every year they come swimming over from thecountry that no man knows, and stay here awhile, and then swim away. This year they haven't come. You know rats won't stay on a ship that'sgoing to be wrecked. If anything horrible were going to happen to us, it's my belief those Lemmings would know; and that may be why they'vefought shy of us. '

'What do you call this country?' asked the Psammead, suddenly puttingits head out of its bag. 

'Atlantis, ' said the priest. 

'Then I advise you to get on to the highest ground you can find. Iremember hearing something about a flood here. Look here, you'--itturned to Anthea; 'let's get home. The prospect's too wet for mywhiskers. ' The girls obediently went to find their brothers, who wereleaning on the balcony railings. 

'Where's the learned gentleman?' asked Anthea. 

'There he is--below, ' said the priest, who had come with them. 'YourHigh Ji-jimmy is with the Kings. '

The ten Kings were no longer alone. The learned gentleman--no one hadnoticed how he got there--stood with them on the steps of an altar, onwhich lay the dead body of the black bull. All the rest of the courtyardwas thick with people, seemingly of all classes, and all were shouting, 'The sea--the sea!'

'Be calm, ' said the most kingly of the Kings, he who had lassoed thebull. 'Our town is strong against the thunders of the sea and of thesky!'

'I want to go home, ' whined the Psammead. 

'We can't go without HIM, ' said Anthea firmly. 

'Jimmy, ' she called, 'Jimmy!' and waved to him. He heard her, and beganto come towards her through the crowd. They could see from the balconythe sea-captain edging his way out from among the people. And his facewas dead white, like paper. 

'To the hills!' he cried in a loud and terrible voice. And above hisvoice came another voice, louder, more terrible--the voice of the sea. 

The girls looked seaward. 

Across the smooth distance of the sea something huge and black rolledtowards the town. It was a wave, but a wave a hundred feet in height, awave that looked like a mountain--a wave rising higher and higher tillsuddenly it seemed to break in two--one half of it rushed out to seaagain; the other--

'Oh!' cried Anthea, 'the town--the poor people!'

'It's all thousands of years ago, really, ' said Robert but his voicetrembled. They hid their eyes for a moment. They could not bear to lookdown, for the wave had broken on the face of the town, sweeping overthe quays and docks, overwhelming the great storehouses and factories, tearing gigantic stones from forts and bridges, and using them asbattering rams against the temples. Great ships were swept over theroofs of the houses and dashed down halfway up the hill among ruinedgardens and broken buildings. The water ground brown fishing-boats topowder on the golden roofs of Palaces. 

Then the wave swept back towards the sea. 

'I want to go home, ' cried the Psammead fiercely. 

'Oh, yes, yes!' said Jane, and the boys were ready--but the learnedgentleman had not come. 

Then suddenly they heard him dash up to the inner gallery, crying--

'I MUST see the end of the dream. ' He rushed up the higher flight. 

The others followed him. They found themselves in a sort ofturret--roofed, but open to the air at the sides. 

The learned gentleman was leaning on the parapet, and as theyrejoined him the vast wave rushed back on the town. This time it rosehigher--destroyed more. 

'Come home, ' cried the Psammead; 'THAT'S the LAST, I know it is! That'sthe last--over there. ' It pointed with a claw that trembled. 

'Oh, come!' cried Jane, holding up the Amulet. 

'I WILL SEE the end of the dream, ' cried the learned gentleman. 

'You'll never see anything else if you do, ' said Cyril. 'Oh, JIMMY!'appealed Anthea. 'I'll NEVER bring you out again!'

'You'll never have the chance if you don't go soon, ' said the Psammead. 

'I WILL see the end of the dream, ' said the learned gentlemanobstinately. 

The hills around were black with people fleeing from the villages to themountains. And even as they fled thin smoke broke from the great whitepeak, and then a faint flash of flame. Then the volcano began to throwup its mysterious fiery inside parts. The earth trembled; ashes andsulphur showered down; a rain of fine pumice-stone fell like snow on allthe dry land. The elephants from the forest rushed up towards the peaks;great lizards thirty yards long broke from the mountain pools andrushed down towards the sea. The snows melted and rushed down, first inavalanches, then in roaring torrents. Great rocks cast up by the volcanofell splashing in the sea miles away. 

'Oh, this is horrible!' cried Anthea. 'Come home, come home!'

'The end of the dream, ' gasped the learned gentleman. 

'Hold up the Amulet, ' cried the Psammead suddenly. The place where theystood was now crowded with men and women, and the children were strainedtight against the parapet. The turret rocked and swayed; the wave hadreached the golden wall. 

Jane held up the Amulet. 

'Now, ' cried the Psammead, 'say the word!'

And as Jane said it the Psammead leaped from its bag and bit the hand ofthe learned gentleman. 

At the same moment the boys pushed him through the arch and all followedhim. 

He turned to look back, and through the arch he saw nothing but a wasteof waters, with above it the peak of the terrible mountain with fireraging from it. 

He staggered back to his chair. 

'What a ghastly dream!' he gasped. 'Oh, you're here, my--er--dears. CanI do anything for you?'

'You've hurt your hand, ' said Anthea gently; 'let me bind it up. '

The hand was indeed bleeding rather badly. 

The Psammead had crept back to its bag. All the children were verywhite. 

'Never again, ' said the Psammead later on, 'will I go into the Past witha grown-up person! I will say for you four, you do do as you're told. '

'We didn't even find the Amulet, ' said Anthea later still. 

'Of course you didn't; it wasn't there. Only the stone it was made ofwas there. It fell on to a ship miles away that managed to escape andgot to Egypt. _I_ could have told you that. '

'I wish you had, ' said Anthea, and her voice was still rather shaky. 'Why didn't you?'

'You never asked me, ' said the Psammead very sulkily. 'I'm not the sortof chap to go shoving my oar in where it's not wanted. '

'Mr Ji-jimmy's friend will have something worth having to put in hisarticle now, ' said Cyril very much later indeed. 

'Not he, ' said Robert sleepily. 'The learned Ji-jimmy will think it's adream, and it's ten to one he never tells the other chap a word about itat all. '

Robert was quite right on both points. The learned gentleman did. And henever did. 

CHAPTER 10. THE LITTLE BLACK GIRL AND JULIUS CAESAR

A great city swept away by the sea, a beautiful country devastated byan active volcano--these are not the sort of things you see every day ofthe week. And when you do see them, no matter how many other wondersyou may have seen in your time, such sights are rather apt to take yourbreath away. Atlantis had certainly this effect on the breaths of Cyril, Robert, Anthea, and Jane. 

They remained in a breathless state for some days. The learned gentlemanseemed as breathless as anyone; he spent a good deal of what littlebreath he had in telling Anthea about a wonderful dream he had. 'Youwould hardly believe, ' he said, 'that anyone COULD have such a detailedvision. '

But Anthea could believe it, she said, quite easily. 

He had ceased to talk about thought-transference. He had now seen toomany wonders to believe that. 

In consequence of their breathless condition none of the childrensuggested any new excursions through the Amulet. Robert voiced the moodof the others when he said that they were 'fed up' with Amulet for abit. They undoubtedly were. 

As for the Psammead, it went to sand and stayed there, worn out bythe terror of the flood and the violent exercise it had had to take inobedience to the inconsiderate wishes of the learned gentleman and theBabylonian queen. 

The children let it sleep. The danger of taking it about among strangepeople who might at any moment utter undesirable wishes was becomingmore and more plain. 

And there are pleasant things to be done in London without any aid fromAmulets or Psammeads. You can, for instance visit the Tower of London, the Houses of Parliament, the National Gallery, the Zoological Gardens, the various Parks, the Museums at South Kensington, Madame Tussaud'sExhibition of Waxworks, or the Botanical Gardens at Kew. You can go toKew by river steamer--and this is the way that the children would havegone if they had gone at all. Only they never did, because it was whenthey were discussing the arrangements for the journey, and what theyshould take with them to eat and how much of it, and what the wholething would cost, that the adventure of the Little Black Girl began tohappen. 

The children were sitting on a seat in St James's Park. They had beenwatching the pelican repulsing with careful dignity the advances of theseagulls who are always so anxious to play games with it. The pelicanthinks, very properly, that it hasn't the figure for games, so it spendsmost of its time pretending that that is not the reason why it won'tplay. 

The breathlessness caused by Atlantis was wearing off a little. Cyril, who always wanted to understand all about everything, was turning thingsover in his mind. 

'I'm not; I'm only thinking, ' he answered when Robert asked him what hewas so grumpy about. 'I'll tell you when I've thought it all out. '

'If it's about the Amulet I don't want to hear it, ' said Jane. 

'Nobody asked you to, ' retorted Cyril mildly, 'and I haven't finished myinside thinking about it yet. Let's go to Kew in the meantime. '

'I'd rather go in a steamer, ' said Robert; and the girls laughed. 

'That's right, ' said Cyril, 'BE funny. I would. '

'Well, he was, rather, ' said Anthea. 

'I wouldn't think, Squirrel, if it hurts you so, ' said Robert kindly. 

'Oh, shut up, ' said Cyril, 'or else talk about Kew. '

'I want to see the palms there, ' said Anthea hastily, 'to see if they'reanything like the ones on the island where we united the Cook and theBurglar by the Reverend Half-Curate. '

All disagreeableness was swept away in a pleasant tide of recollections, and 'Do you remember. . . ?' they said. 'Have you forgotten. . . ?'

'My hat!' remarked Cyril pensively, as the flood of reminiscence ebbed alittle; 'we have had some times. '

'We have that, ' said Robert. 

'Don't let's have any more, ' said Jane anxiously. 

'That's what I was thinking about, ' Cyril replied; and just then theyheard the Little Black Girl sniff. She was quite close to them. 

She was not really a little black girl. She was shabby and not veryclean, and she had been crying so much that you could hardly see, through the narrow chink between her swollen lids, how very blue hereyes were. It was her dress that was black, and it was too big and toolong for her, and she wore a speckled black-ribboned sailor hat thatwould have fitted a much bigger head than her little flaxen one. And shestood looking at the children and sniffing. 

'Oh, dear!' said Anthea, jumping up. 'Whatever is the matter?'

She put her hand on the little girl's arm. It was rudely shaken off. 

'You leave me be, ' said the little girl. 'I ain't doing nothing to you. '

'But what is it?' Anthea asked. 'Has someone been hurting you?'

'What's that to you?' said the little girl fiercely. 'YOU'RE all right. '

'Come away, ' said Robert, pulling at Anthea's sleeve. 'She's a nasty, rude little kid. '

'Oh, no, ' said Anthea. 'She's only dreadfully unhappy. What is it?' sheasked again. 

'Oh, YOU'RE all right, ' the child repeated; 'YOU ain't agoin' to theUnion. '

'Can't we take you home?' said Anthea; and Jane added, 'Where does yourmother live?'

'She don't live nowheres--she's dead--so now!' said the little girlfiercely, in tones of miserable triumph. Then she opened her swolleneyes widely, stamped her foot in fury, and ran away. She ran no furtherthan to the next bench, flung herself down there and began to crywithout even trying not to. 

Anthea, quite at once, went to the little girl and put her arms as tightas she could round the hunched-up black figure. 

'Oh, don't cry so, dear, don't, don't!' she whispered under the brim ofthe large sailor hat, now very crooked indeed. 'Tell Anthea all aboutit; Anthea'll help you. There, there, dear, don't cry. '

The others stood at a distance. One or two passers-by stared curiously. 

The child was now only crying part of the time; the rest of the time sheseemed to be talking to Anthea. 

Presently Anthea beckoned Cyril. 

'It's horrible!' she said in a furious whisper, 'her father was acarpenter and he was a steady man, and never touched a drop except on aSaturday, and he came up to London for work, and there wasn't any, andthen he died; and her name is Imogen, and she's nine come nextNovember. And now her mother's dead, and she's to stay tonight withMrs Shrobsall--that's a landlady that's been kind--and tomorrow theRelieving Officer is coming for her, and she's going into the Union;that means the Workhouse. It's too terrible. What can we do?'

'Let's ask the learned gentleman, ' said Jane brightly. 

And as no one else could think of anything better the whole party walkedback to Fitzroy Street as fast as it could, the little girl holdingtight to Anthea's hand and now not crying any more, only sniffinggently. 

The learned gentleman looked up from his writing with the smile that hadgrown much easier to him than it used to be. They were quite at homein his room now; it really seemed to welcome them. Even the mummy-caseappeared to smile as if in its distant superior ancient Egyptian way itwere rather pleased to see them than not. 

Anthea sat on the stairs with Imogen, who was nine come next November, while the others went in and explained the difficulty. 

The learned gentleman listened with grave attention. 

'It really does seem rather rough luck, ' Cyril concluded, 'because I'veoften heard about rich people who wanted children most awfully--though Iknow _I_ never should--but they do. There must be somebody who'd be gladto have her. '

'Gipsies are awfully fond of children, ' Robert hopefully said. 'They'realways stealing them. Perhaps they'd have her. '

'She's quite a nice little girl really, ' Jane added; 'she was onlyrude at first because we looked jolly and happy, and she wasn't. Youunderstand that, don't you?'

'Yes, ' said he, absently fingering a little blue image from Egypt. 'Iunderstand that very well. As you say, there must be some home where shewould be welcome. ' He scowled thoughtfully at the little blue image. 

Anthea outside thought the explanation was taking a very long time. 

She was so busy trying to cheer and comfort the little black girl thatshe never noticed the Psammead who, roused from sleep by her voice, hadshaken itself free of sand, and was coming crookedly up the stairs. Itwas close to her before she saw it. She picked it up and settled it inher lap. 

'What is it?' asked the black child. 'Is it a cat or a organ-monkey, orwhat?'

And then Anthea heard the learned gentleman say--

'Yes, I wish we could find a home where they would be glad to have her, 'and instantly she felt the Psammead begin to blow itself out as it saton her lap. 

She jumped up lifting the Psammead in her skirt, and holding Imogen bythe hand, rushed into the learned gentleman's room. 

'At least let's keep together, ' she cried. 'All hold hands--quick!'

The circle was like that formed for the Mulberry Bush or Ring-o'-Roses. And Anthea was only able to take part in it by holding in her teeththe hem of her frock which, thus supported, formed a bag to hold thePsammead. 

'Is it a game?' asked the learned gentleman feebly. No one answered. 

There was a moment of suspense; then came that curious upside-down, inside-out sensation which one almost always feels when transportedfrom one place to another by magic. Also there was that dizzy dimness ofsight which comes on these occasions. 

The mist cleared, the upside-down, inside-out sensation subsided, and there stood the six in a ring, as before, only their twelve feet, instead of standing on the carpet of the learned gentleman's room, stoodon green grass. Above them, instead of the dusky ceiling of the FitzroyStreet floor, was a pale blue sky. And where the walls had been and thepainted mummy-case, were tall dark green trees, oaks and ashes, and inbetween the trees and under them tangled bushes and creeping ivy. Therewere beech-trees too, but there was nothing under them but their owndead red drifted leaves, and here and there a delicate green fern-frond. 

And there they stood in a circle still holding hands, as though theywere playing Ring-o'-Roses or the Mulberry Bush. Just six people hand inhand in a wood. That sounds simple, but then you must remember that theydid not know WHERE the wood was, and what's more, they didn't know WHENthen wood was. There was a curious sort of feeling that made the learnedgentleman say--

'Another dream, dear me!' and made the children almost certain that theywere in a time a very long while ago. As for little Imogen, she said, 'Oh, my!' and kept her mouth very much open indeed. 

'Where are we?' Cyril asked the Psammead. 

'In Britain, ' said the Psammead. 

'But when?' asked Anthea anxiously. 

'About the year fifty-five before the year you reckon time from, ' saidthe Psammead crossly. 'Is there anything else you want to know?' itadded, sticking its head out of the bag formed by Anthea's blue linenfrock, and turning its snail's eyes to right and left. 'I've been herebefore--it's very little changed. ' 'Yes, but why here?' asked Anthea. 

'Your inconsiderate friend, ' the Psammead replied, 'wished to find somehome where they would be glad to have that unattractive and immaturefemale human being whom you have picked up--gracious knows how. InMegatherium days properly brought-up children didn't talk to shabbystrangers in parks. Your thoughtless friend wanted a place where someonewould be glad to have this undesirable stranger. And now here you are!'

'I see we are, ' said Anthea patiently, looking round on the tall gloomof the forest. 'But why HERE? Why NOW?'

'You don't suppose anyone would want a child like that in YOUR times--inYOUR towns?' said the Psammead in irritated tones. 'You've gotyour country into such a mess that there's no room for half yourchildren--and no one to want them. '

'That's not our doing, you know, ' said Anthea gently. 

'And bringing me here without any waterproof or anything, ' said thePsammead still more crossly, 'when everyone knows how damp and foggyAncient Britain was. '

'Here, take my coat, ' said Robert, taking it off. Anthea spread the coaton the ground and, putting the Psammead on it, folded it round so thatonly the eyes and furry ears showed. 

'There, ' she said comfortingly. 'Now if it does begin to look like rain, I can cover you up in a minute. Now what are we to do?'

The others who had stopped holding hands crowded round to hear theanswer to this question. Imogen whispered in an awed tone--

'Can't the organ monkey talk neither! I thought it was only parrots!'

'Do?' replied the Psammead. 'I don't care what you do!' And it drew headand ears into the tweed covering of Robert's coat. 

The others looked at each other. 

'It's only a dream, ' said the learned gentleman hopefully; 'something issure to happen if we can prevent ourselves from waking up. '

And sure enough, something did. 

The brooding silence of the dark forest was broken by the laughter ofchildren and the sound of voices. 

'Let's go and see, ' said Cyril. 

'It's only a dream, ' said the learned gentleman to Jane, who hung back;'if you don't go with the tide of a dream--if you resist--you wake up, you know. '

There was a sort of break in the undergrowth that was like a sillyperson's idea of a path. They went along this in Indian file, thelearned gentleman leading. 

Quite soon they came to a large clearing in the forest. There were anumber of houses--huts perhaps you would have called them--with a sortof mud and wood fence. 

'It's like the old Egyptian town, ' whispered Anthea. 

And it was, rather. 

Some children, with no clothes on at all, were playing what looked likeRing-o'-Roses or Mulberry Bush. That is to say, they were dancing roundin a ring, holding hands. On a grassy bank several women, dressed inblue and white robes and tunics of beast-skins sat watching the playingchildren. 

The children from Fitzroy Street stood on the fringe of the forestlooking at the games. One woman with long, fair braided hair sat alittle apart from the others, and there was a look in her eyes as shefollowed the play of the children that made Anthea feel sad and sorry. 

'None of those little girls is her own little girl, ' thought Anthea. 

The little black-clad London child pulled at Anthea's sleeve. 

'Look, ' she said, 'that one there--she's precious like mother; mother's'air was somethink lovely, when she 'ad time to comb it out. Motherwouldn't never a-beat me if she'd lived 'ere--I don't suppose there'se'er a public nearer than Epping, do you, Miss?'

In her eagerness the child had stepped out of the shelter of the forest. The sad-eyed woman saw her. She stood up, her thin face lighted upwith a radiance like sunrise, her long, lean arms stretched towards theLondon child. 

'Imogen!' she cried--at least the word was more like that than any otherword--'Imogen!'

There was a moment of great silence; the naked children paused in theirplay, the women on the bank stared anxiously. 

'Oh, it IS mother--it IS!' cried Imogen-from-London, and rushed acrossthe cleared space. She and her mother clung together--so closely, sostrongly that they stood an instant like a statue carved in stone. 

Then the women crowded round. 'It IS my Imogen!' cried the woman. 

'Oh it is! And she wasn't eaten by wolves. She's come back to me. Tellme, my darling, how did you escape? Where have you been? Who has fed andclothed you?'

'I don't know nothink, ' said Imogen. 

'Poor child!' whispered the women who crowded round, 'the terror of thewolves has turned her brain. '

'But you know ME?' said the fair-haired woman. 

And Imogen, clinging with black-clothed arms to the bare neck, answered--

'Oh, yes, mother, I know YOU right 'nough. '

'What is it? What do they say?' the learned gentleman asked anxiously. 

'You wished to come where someone wanted the child, ' said the Psammead. 'The child says this is her mother. '

'And the mother?'

'You can see, ' said the Psammead. 

'But is she really? Her child, I mean?'

'Who knows?' said the Psammead; 'but each one fills the empty place inthe other's heart. It is enough. '

'Oh, ' said the learned gentleman, 'this is a good dream. I wish thechild might stay in the dream. '

The Psammead blew itself out and granted the wish. So Imogen's futurewas assured. She had found someone to want her. 

'If only all the children that no one wants, ' began the learnedgentleman--but the woman interrupted. She came towards them. 

'Welcome, all!' she cried. 'I am the Queen, and my child tells me thatyou have befriended her; and this I well believe, looking on your faces. Your garb is strange, but faces I can read. The child is bewitched, Isee that well, but in this she speaks truth. Is it not so?'

The children said it wasn't worth mentioning. 

I wish you could have seen all the honours and kindnesses lavished onthe children and the learned gentleman by those ancient Britons. 

You would have thought, to see them, that a child was something to makea fuss about, not a bit of rubbish to be hustled about the streets andhidden away in the Workhouse. It wasn't as grand as the entertainment atBabylon, but somehow it was more satisfying. 

'I think you children have some wonderful influence on me, ' said thelearned gentleman. 'I never dreamed such dreams before I knew you. '

It was when they were alone that night under the stars where the Britonshad spread a heap Of dried fern for them to sleep on, that Cyril spoke. 

'Well, ' he said, 'we've made it all right for Imogen, and had a jollygood time. I vote we get home again before the fighting begins. '

'What fighting?' asked Jane sleepily. 

'Why, Julius Caesar, you little goat, ' replied her kind brother. 'Don'tyou see that if this is the year fifty-five, Julius Caesar may happen atany moment. '

'I thought you liked Caesar, ' said Robert. 

'So I do--in the history. But that's different from being killed by hissoldiers. '

'If we saw Caesar we might persuade him not to, ' said Anthea. 

'YOU persuade CAESAR, ' Robert laughed. 

The learned gentleman, before anyone could stop him, said, 'I only wishwe could see Caesar some time. '

And, of course, in just the little time the Psammead took to blow itselfout for wish-giving, the five, or six counting the Psammead, foundthemselves in Caesar's camp, just outside Caesar's tent. And they sawCaesar. The Psammead must have taken advantage of the loose wording ofthe learned gentleman's wish, for it was not the same time of day asthat on which the wish had been uttered among the dried ferns. It wassunset, and the great man sat on a chair outside his tent gazing overthe sea towards Britain--everyone knew without being told that it wastowards Britain. Two golden eagles on the top of posts stood on eachside of the tent, and on the flaps of the tent which was very gorgeousto look at were the letters S. P. Q. R. 

The great man turned unchanged on the newcomers the august glance thathe had turned on the violet waters of the Channel. Though they hadsuddenly appeared out of nothing, Caesar never showed by the faintestmovement of an eyelid, by the least tightening of that firm mouth, thatthey were not some long expected embassy. He waved a calm hand towardsthe sentinels, who sprang weapons in hand towards the newcomers. 

'Back!' he said in a voice that thrilled like music. 'Since when hasCaesar feared children and students?'

To the children he seemed to speak in the only language they knew;but the learned gentleman heard--in rather a strange accent, but quiteintelligibly--the lips of Caesar speaking in the Latin tongue, and inthat tongue, a little stiffly, he answered--

'It is a dream, O Caesar. '

'A dream?' repeated Caesar. 'What is a dream?'

'This, ' said the learned gentleman. 

'Not it, ' said Cyril, 'it's a sort of magic. We come out of another timeand another place. '

'And we want to ask you not to trouble about conquering Britain, ' saidAnthea; 'it's a poor little place, not worth bothering about. '

'Are you from Britain?' the General asked. 'Your clothes are uncouth, but well woven, and your hair is short as the hair of Roman citizens, not long like the hair of barbarians, yet such I deem you to be. ' 'We'renot, ' said Jane with angry eagerness; 'we're not barbarians at all. Wecome from the country where the sun never sets, and we've read aboutyou in books; and our country's full of fine things--St Paul's, and theTower of London, and Madame Tussaud's Exhibition, and--' Then the othersstopped her. 

'Don't talk nonsense, ' said Robert in a bitter undertone. 

Caesar looked at the children a moment in silence. Then he called asoldier and spoke with him apart. Then he said aloud--

'You three elder children may go where you will within the camp. Fewchildren are privileged to see the camp of Caesar. The student and thesmaller girl-child will remain here with me. '

Nobody liked this; but when Caesar said a thing that thing was so, andthere was an end to it. So the three went. 

Left alone with Jane and the learned gentleman, the great Roman found iteasy enough to turn them inside out. But it was not easy, even for him, to make head or tail of the insides of their minds when he had got atthem. 

The learned gentleman insisted that the whole thing was a dream, andrefused to talk much, on the ground that if he did he would wake up. 

Jane, closely questioned, was full of information about railways, electric lights, balloons, men-of-war, cannons, and dynamite. 

'And do they fight with swords?' asked the General. 

'Yes, swords and guns and cannons. '

Caesar wanted to know what guns were. 

'You fire them, ' said Jane, 'and they go bang, and people fall downdead. '

'But what are guns like?'

Jane found them hard to describe. 

'But Robert has a toy one in his pocket, ' she said. So the others wererecalled. 

The boys explained the pistol to Caesar very fully, and he looked at itwith the greatest interest. It was a two-shilling pistol, the one thathad done such good service in the old Egyptian village. 

'I shall cause guns to be made, ' said Caesar, 'and you will be detainedtill I know whether you have spoken the truth. I had just decided thatBritain was not worth the bother of invading. But what you tell medecides me that it is very much worth while. '

'But it's all nonsense, ' said Anthea. 'Britain is just a savage sort ofisland--all fogs and trees and big rivers. But the people are kind. Weknow a little girl there named Imogen. And it's no use your makingguns because you can't fire them without gunpowder, and that won't beinvented for hundreds of years, and we don't know how to make it, andwe can't tell you. Do go straight home, dear Caesar, and let poor littleBritain alone. '

'But this other girl-child says--' said Caesar. 

'All Jane's been telling you is what it's going to be, ' Antheainterrupted, 'hundreds and hundreds of years from now. '

'The little one is a prophetess, eh?' said Caesar, with a whimsicallook. 'Rather young for the business, isn't she?'

'You can call her a prophetess if you like, ' said Cyril, 'but whatAnthea says is true. '

'Anthea?' said Caesar. 'That's a Greek name. '

'Very likely, ' said Cyril, worriedly. 'I say, I do wish you'd give upthis idea of conquering Britain. It's not worth while, really it isn't!'

'On the contrary, ' said Caesar, 'what you've told me has decided me togo, if it's only to find out what Britain is really like. Guards, detainthese children. '

'Quick, ' said Robert, 'before the guards begin detaining. We had enoughof that in Babylon. '

Jane held up the Amulet away from the sunset, and said the word. Thelearned gentleman was pushed through and the others more quickly thanever before passed through the arch back into their own times and thequiet dusty sitting-room of the learned gentleman. 

It is a curious fact that when Caesar was encamped on the coast ofGaul--somewhere near Boulogne it was, I believe--he was sitting beforehis tent in the glow of the sunset, looking out over the violet watersof the English Channel. Suddenly he started, rubbed his eyes, and calledhis secretary. The young man came quickly from within the tent. 

'Marcus, ' said Caesar. 'I have dreamed a very wonderful dream. Someof it I forget, but I remember enough to decide what was not beforedetermined. Tomorrow the ships that have been brought round from theLigeris shall be provisioned. We shall sail for this three-corneredisland. First, we will take but two legions. 

This, if what we have heard be true, should suffice. But if my dream betrue, then a hundred legions will not suffice. For the dream I dreamedwas the most wonderful that ever tormented the brain even of Caesar. AndCaesar has dreamed some strange things in his time. '

'And if you hadn't told Caesar all that about how things are now, he'dnever have invaded Britain, ' said Robert to Jane as they sat down totea. 

'Oh, nonsense, ' said Anthea, pouring out; 'it was all settled hundredsof years ago. '

'I don't know, ' said Cyril. 'Jam, please. This about time being onlya thingummy of thought is very confusing. If everything happens at thesame time--'

'It CAN'T!' said Anthea stoutly, 'the present's the present and thepast's the past. '

'Not always, ' said Cyril. 

'When we were in the Past the present was the future. Now then!' headded triumphantly. 

And Anthea could not deny it. 

'I should have liked to see more of the camp, ' said Robert. 

'Yes, we didn't get much for our money--but Imogen is happy, that's onething, ' said Anthea. 'We left her happy in the Past. I've often seenabout people being happy in the Past, in poetry books. I see what itmeans now. '

'It's not a bad idea, ' said the Psammead sleepily, putting its head outof its bag and taking it in again suddenly, 'being left in the Past. '

Everyone remembered this afterwards, when--

CHAPTER 11. BEFORE PHARAOH

It was the day after the adventure of Julius Caesar and the Little BlackGirl that Cyril, bursting into the bathroom to wash his hands fordinner (you have no idea how dirty they were, for he had been playingshipwrecked mariners all the morning on the leads at the back of thehouse, where the water-cistern is), found Anthea leaning her elbows onthe edge of the bath, and crying steadily into it. 

'Hullo!' he said, with brotherly concern, 'what's up now? Dinner'll becold before you've got enough salt-water for a bath. '

'Go away, ' said Anthea fiercely. 'I hate you! I hate everybody!'

There was a stricken pause. 

'_I_ didn't know, ' said Cyril tamely. 

'Nobody ever does know anything, ' sobbed Anthea. 

'I didn't know you were waxy. I thought you'd just hurt your fingerswith the tap again like you did last week, ' Cyril carefully explained. 

'Oh--fingers!' sneered Anthea through her sniffs. 

'Here, drop it, Panther, ' he said uncomfortably. 'You haven't beenhaving a row or anything?'

'No, ' she said. 'Wash your horrid hands, for goodness' sake, if that'swhat you came for, or go. '

Anthea was so seldom cross that when she was cross the others werealways more surprised than angry. 

Cyril edged along the side of the bath and stood beside her. He put hishand on her arm. 

'Dry up, do, ' he said, rather tenderly for him. And, finding that thoughshe did not at once take his advice she did not seem to resent it, heput his arm awkwardly across her shoulders and rubbed his head againsther ear. 

'There!' he said, in the tone of one administering a priceless cure forall possible sorrows. 'Now, what's up?'

'Promise you won't laugh?'

'I don't feel laughish myself, ' said Cyril, dismally. 

'Well, then, ' said Anthea, leaning her ear against his head, 'it'sMother. '

'What's the matter with Mother?' asked Cyril, with apparent want ofsympathy. 'She was all right in her letter this morning. '

'Yes; but I want her so. '

'You're not the only one, ' said Cyril briefly, and the brevity of histone admitted a good deal. 

'Oh, yes, ' said Anthea, 'I know. We all want her all the time. But Iwant her now most dreadfully, awfully much. I never wanted anything somuch. That Imogen child--the way the ancient British Queen cuddled herup! And Imogen wasn't me, and the Queen was Mother. And then her letterthis morning! And about The Lamb liking the salt bathing! And she bathedhim in this very bath the night before she went away--oh, oh, oh!'

Cyril thumped her on the back. 

'Cheer up, ' he said. 'You know my inside thinking that I was doing?Well, that was partly about Mother. We'll soon get her back. If you'llchuck it, like a sensible kid, and wash your face, I'll tell you aboutit. That's right. You let me get to the tap. Can't you stop crying?Shall I put the door-key down your back?'

'That's for noses, ' said Anthea, 'and I'm not a kid any more than youare, ' but she laughed a little, and her mouth began to get back into itsproper shape. You know what an odd shape your mouth gets into when youcry in earnest. 

'Look here, ' said Cyril, working the soap round and round between hishands in a thick slime of grey soapsuds. 'I've been thinking. We've onlyjust PLAYED with the Amulet so far. We've got to work it now--WORK itfor all it's worth. And it isn't only Mother either. There's Father outthere all among the fighting. I don't howl about it, but I THINK--Oh, bother the soap!' The grey-lined soap had squirted out under thepressure of his fingers, and had hit Anthea's chin with as much force asthough it had been shot from a catapult. 

'There now, ' she said regretfully, 'now I shall have to wash my face. '

'You'd have had to do that anyway, ' said Cyril with conviction. 'Now, myidea's this. You know missionaries?'

'Yes, ' said Anthea, who did not know a single one. 

'Well, they always take the savages beads and brandy, and stays, andhats, and braces, and really useful things--things the savages haven'tgot, and never heard about. And the savages love them for theirkind generousness, and give them pearls, and shells, and ivory, andcassowaries. And that's the way--'

'Wait a sec, ' said Anthea, splashing. 'I can't hear what you're saying. Shells and--'

'Shells, and things like that. The great thing is to get people to loveyou by being generous. And that's what we've got to do. Next time we gointo the Past we'll regularly fit out the expedition. You remember howthe Babylonian Queen froze on to that pocket-book? Well, we'll takethings like that. And offer them in exchange for a sight of the Amulet. '

'A sight of it is not much good. '

'No, silly. But, don't you see, when we've seen it we shall know whereit is, and we can go and take it in the night when everybody is asleep. '

'It wouldn't be stealing, would it?' said Anthea thoughtfully, 'becauseit will be such an awfully long time ago when we do it. Oh, there's thatbell again. '

As soon as dinner was eaten (it was tinned salmon and lettuce, and a jamtart), and the cloth cleared away, the idea was explained to the others, and the Psammead was aroused from sand, and asked what it thought wouldbe good merchandise with which to buy the affection of say, the AncientEgyptians, and whether it thought the Amulet was likely to be found inthe Court of Pharaoh. 

But it shook its head, and shot out its snail's eyes hopelessly. 

'I'm not allowed to play in this game, ' it said. 'Of course I COULD findout in a minute where the thing was, only I mayn't. But I may go so faras to own that your idea of taking things with you isn't a bad one. AndI shouldn't show them all at once. Take small things and conceal themcraftily about your persons. '

This advice seemed good. Soon the table was littered over with thingswhich the children thought likely to interest the Ancient Egyptians. Anthea brought dolls, puzzle blocks, a wooden tea-service, a greenleather case with Necessaire written on it in gold letters. AuntEmma had once given it to Anthea, and it had then contained scissors, penknife, bodkin, stiletto, thimble, corkscrew, and glove-buttoner. Thescissors, knife, and thimble, and penknife were, of course, lost, butthe other things were there and as good as new. Cyril contributed leadsoldiers, a cannon, a catapult, a tin-opener, a tie-clip, and a tennisball, and a padlock--no key. Robert collected a candle ('I don't supposethey ever saw a self-fitting paraffin one, ' he said), a penny Japanesepin-tray, a rubber stamp with his father's name and address on it, and apiece of putty. 

Jane added a key-ring, the brass handle of a poker, a pot that had heldcold-cream, a smoked pearl button off her winter coat, and a key--nolock. 

'We can't take all this rubbish, ' said Robert, with some scorn. 'We mustjust each choose one thing. '

The afternoon passed very agreeably in the attempt to choose from thetable the four most suitable objects. But the four children could notagree what was suitable, and at last Cyril said--

'Look here, let's each be blindfolded and reach out, and the first thingyou touch you stick to. '

This was done. 

Cyril touched the padlock. 

Anthea got the Necessaire. 

Robert clutched the candle. 

Jane picked up the tie-clip. 

'It's not much, ' she said. 'I don't believe Ancient Egyptians woreties. '

'Never mind, ' said Anthea. 'I believe it's luckier not to really choose. In the stories it's always the thing the wood-cutter's son picks up inthe forest, and almost throws away because he thinks it's no good, thatturns out to be the magic thing in the end; or else someone's lost it, and he is rewarded with the hand of the King's daughter in marriage. '

'I don't want any hands in marriage, thank you. ' said Cyril firmly. 

'Nor yet me, ' said Robert. 'It's always the end of the adventures whenit comes to the marriage hands. '

'ARE we ready?' said Anthea. 

'It IS Egypt we're going to, isn't it?--nice Egypt?' said Jane. 'Iwon't go anywhere I don't know about--like that dreadful big-wavyburning-mountain city, ' she insisted. 

Then the Psammead was coaxed into its bag. 'I say, ' said Cyril suddenly, 'I'm rather sick of kings. And people notice you so in palaces. Besidesthe Amulet's sure to be in a Temple. Let's just go among the commonpeople, and try to work ourselves up by degrees. We might get taken onas Temple assistants. '

'Like beadles, ' said Anthea, 'or vergers. They must have splendidchances of stealing the Temple treasures. '

'Righto!' was the general rejoinder. The charm was held up. It grew bigonce again, and once again the warm golden Eastern light glowed softlybeyond it. 

As the children stepped through it loud and furious voices rang in theirears. They went suddenly from the quiet of Fitzroy Street dining-roominto a very angry Eastern crowd, a crowd much too angry to notice them. They edged through it to the wall of a house and stood there. The crowdwas of men, women, and children. They were of all sorts of complexions, and pictures of them might have been coloured by any child witha shilling paint-box. The colours that child would have used forcomplexions would have been yellow ochre, red ochre, light red, sepia, and indian ink. But their faces were painted already--black eyebrowsand lashes, and some red lips. The women wore a sort of pinafore withshoulder straps, and loose things wound round their heads and shoulders. The men wore very little clothing--for they were the working people--andthe Egyptian boys and girls wore nothing at all, unless you countthe little ornaments hung on chains round their necks and waists. Thechildren saw all this before they could hear anything distinctly. 

Everyone was shouting so. 

But a voice sounded above the other voices, and presently it wasspeaking in a silence. 

'Comrades and fellow workers, ' it said, and it was the voice of atall, coppery-coloured man who had climbed into a chariot that had beenstopped by the crowd. Its owner had bolted, muttering something aboutcalling the Guards, and now the man spoke from it. 'Comrades and fellowworkers, how long are we to endure the tyranny of our masters, who livein idleness and luxury on the fruit of our toil? They only give us abare subsistence wage, and they live on the fat of the land. We labourall our lives to keep them in wanton luxury. Let us make an end of it!'

A roar of applause answered him. 

'How are you going to do it?' cried a voice. 

'You look out, ' cried another, 'or you'll get yourself into trouble. '

'I've heard almost every single word of that, ' whispered Robert, 'inHyde Park last Sunday!'

'Let us strike for more bread and onions and beer, and a longer mid-dayrest, ' the speaker went on. 'You are tired, you are hungry, you arethirsty. You are poor, your wives and children are pining for food. Thebarns of the rich are full to bursting with the corn we want, the cornour labour has grown. To the granaries!'

'To the granaries!' cried half the crowd; but another voice shoutedclear above the tumult, 'To Pharaoh! To the King! Let's present apetition to the King! He will listen to the voice of the oppressed!'

For a moment the crowd swayed one way and another--first towards thegranaries and then towards the palace. Then, with a rush like that of animprisoned torrent suddenly set free, it surged along the street towardsthe palace, and the children were carried with it. Anthea found itdifficult to keep the Psammead from being squeezed very uncomfortably. 

The crowd swept through the streets of dull-looking houses with fewwindows, very high up, across the market where people were not buyingbut exchanging goods. In a momentary pause Robert saw a basket of onionsexchanged for a hair comb and five fish for a string of beads. Thepeople in the market seemed better off than those in the crowd; theyhad finer clothes, and more of them. They were the kind of people who, nowadays, would have lived at Brixton or Brockley. 

'What's the trouble now?' a languid, large-eyed lady in a crimped, half-transparent linen dress, with her black hair very much braided andpuffed out, asked of a date-seller. 

'Oh, the working-men--discontented as usual, ' the man answered. 'Listento them. Anyone would think it mattered whether they had a little moreor less to eat. Dregs of society!' said the date-seller. 

'Scum!' said the lady. 

'And I've heard THAT before, too, ' said Robert. 

At that moment the voice of the crowd changed, from anger to doubt, fromdoubt to fear. There were other voices shouting; they shouted defianceand menace, and they came nearer very quickly. There was the rattle ofwheels and the pounding of hoofs. A voice shouted, 'Guards!'

'The Guards! The Guards!' shouted another voice, and the crowd ofworkmen took up the cry. 'The Guards! Pharaoh's Guards!' And swaying alittle once more, the crowd hung for a moment as it were balanced. Thenas the trampling hoofs came nearer the workmen fled dispersed, up alleysand into the courts of houses, and the Guards in their embossed leatherchariots swept down the street at the gallop, their wheels clatteringover the stones, and their dark-coloured, blue tunics blown open andback with the wind of their going. 

'So THAT riot's over, ' said the crimped-linen-dressed lady; 'that'sa blessing! And did you notice the Captain of the Guard? What a veryhandsome man he was, to be sure!'

The four children had taken advantage of the moment's pause before thecrowd turned to fly, to edge themselves and drag each other into anarched doorway. 

Now they each drew a long breath and looked at the others. 

'We're well out of THAT, ' said Cyril. 

'Yes, ' said Anthea, 'but I do wish the poor men hadn't been driven backbefore they could get to the King. He might have done something forthem. '

'Not if he was the one in the Bible he wouldn't, ' said Jane. 'He had ahard heart. ' 'Ah, that was the Moses one, ' Anthea explained. 'The Josephone was quite different. I should like to see Pharaoh's house. I wonderwhether it's like the Egyptian Court in the Crystal Palace. '

'I thought we decided to try to get taken on in a Temple, ' said Cyril ininjured tones. 

'Yes, but we've got to know someone first. Couldn't we make friendswith a Temple doorkeeper--we might give him the padlock or something. Iwonder which are temples and which are palaces, ' Robert added, glancingacross the market-place to where an enormous gateway with huge sidebuildings towered towards the sky. To right and left of it were otherbuildings only a little less magnificent. 

'Did you wish to seek out the Temple of Amen Ra?' asked a soft voicebehind them, 'or the Temple of Mut, or the Temple of Khonsu?'

They turned to find beside them a young man. He was shaved clean fromhead to foot, and on his feet were light papyrus sandals. He was clothedin a linen tunic of white, embroidered heavily in colours. He was gaywith anklets, bracelets, and armlets of gold, richly inlaid. He worea ring on his finger, and he had a short jacket of gold embroiderysomething like the Zouave soldiers wear, and on his neck was a goldcollar with many amulets hanging from it. But among the amulets thechildren could see none like theirs. 

'It doesn't matter which Temple, ' said Cyril frankly. 

'Tell me your mission, ' said the young man. 'I am a divine father of theTemple of Amen Ra and perhaps I can help you. '

'Well, ' said Cyril, 'we've come from the great Empire on which the sunnever sets. '

'I thought somehow that you'd come from some odd, out-of-the-way spot, 'said the priest with courtesy. 

'And we've seen a good many palaces. We thought we should like to see aTemple, for a change, ' said Robert. 

The Psammead stirred uneasily in its embroidered bag. 

'Have you brought gifts to the Temple?' asked the priest cautiously. 

'We HAVE got some gifts, ' said Cyril with equal caution. 'You seethere's magic mixed up in it. So we can't tell you everything. But wedon't want to give our gifts for nothing. '

'Beware how you insult the god, ' said the priest sternly. 'I also cando magic. I can make a waxen image of you, and I can say words which, asthe wax image melts before the fire, will make you dwindle away and atlast perish miserably. '

'Pooh!' said Cyril stoutly, 'that's nothing. _I_ can make FIRE itself!'

'I should jolly well like to see you do it, ' said the priestunbelievingly. 

'Well, you shall, ' said Cyril, 'nothing easier. Just stand close roundme. '

'Do you need no preparation--no fasting, no incantations?' The priest'stone was incredulous. 

'The incantation's quite short, ' said Cyril, taking the hint; 'and asfor fasting, it's not needed in MY sort of magic. Union Jack, PrintingPress, Gunpowder, Rule Britannia! Come, Fire, at the end of this littlestick!'

He had pulled a match from his pocket, and as he ended the incantationwhich contained no words that it seemed likely the Egyptian had everheard he stooped in the little crowd of his relations and the priest andstruck the match on his boot. He stood up, shielding the flame with onehand. 

'See?' he said, with modest pride. 'Here, take it into your hand. '

'No, thank you, ' said the priest, swiftly backing. 'Can you do thatagain?'

'Yes. '

'Then come with me to the great double house of Pharaoh. He loves goodmagic, and he will raise you to honour and glory. There's no need ofsecrets between initiates, ' he went on confidentially. 'The fact is, I am out of favour at present owing to a little matter of failure ofprophecy. I told him a beautiful princess would be sent to him fromSyria, and, lo! a woman thirty years old arrived. But she WAS abeautiful woman not so long ago. Time is only a mode of thought, youknow. '

The children thrilled to the familiar words. 

'So you know that too, do you?' said Cyril. 

'It is part of the mystery of all magic, is it not?' said the priest. 'Now if I bring you to Pharaoh the little unpleasantness I spoke of willbe forgotten. And I will ask Pharaoh, the Great House, Son of the Sun, and Lord of the South and North, to decree that you shall lodge in theTemple. Then you can have a good look round, and teach me your magic. And I will teach you mine. '

This idea seemed good--at least it was better than any other which atthat moment occurred to anybody, so they followed the priest through thecity. 

The streets were very narrow and dirty. The best houses, the priestexplained, were built within walls twenty to twenty-five feet high, and such windows as showed in the walls were very high up. The tops ofpalm-trees showed above the walls. The poor people's houses were littlesquare huts with a door and two windows, and smoke coming out of a holein the back. 

'The poor Egyptians haven't improved so very much in their buildingsince the first time we came to Egypt, ' whispered Cyril to Anthea. 

The huts were roofed with palm branches, and everywhere there werechickens, and goats, and little naked children kicking about in theyellow dust. On one roof was a goat, who had climbed up and was eatingthe dry palm-leaves with snorts and head-tossings of delight. Over everyhouse door was some sort of figure or shape. 

'Amulets, ' the priest explained, 'to keep off the evil eye. '

'I don't think much of your "nice Egypt", ' Robert whispered to Jane;'it's simply not a patch on Babylon. '

'Ah, you wait till you see the palace, ' Jane whispered back. 

The palace was indeed much more magnificent than anything they had yetseen that day, though it would have made but a poor show beside thatof the Babylonian King. They came to it through a great square pillareddoorway of sandstone that stood in a high brick wall. The shut doorswere of massive cedar, with bronze hinges, and were studded with bronzenails. At the side was a little door and a wicket gate, and throughthis the priest led the children. He seemed to know a word that made thesentries make way for him. 

Inside was a garden, planted with hundreds of different kinds of treesand flowering shrubs, a lake full of fish, with blue lotus flowers atthe margin, and ducks swimming about cheerfully, and looking, as Janesaid, quite modern. 

'The guard-chamber, the store-houses, the queen's house, ' said thepriest, pointing them out. 

They passed through open courtyards, paved with flat stones, and thepriest whispered to a guard at a great inner gate. 

'We are fortunate, ' he said to the children, 'Pharaoh is even now inthe Court of Honour. Now, don't forget to be overcome with respect andadmiration. It won't do any harm if you fall flat on your faces. Andwhatever you do, don't speak until you're spoken to. '

'There used to be that rule in our country, ' said Robert, 'when myfather was a little boy. '

At the outer end of the great hall a crowd of people were arguing withand even shoving the Guards, who seemed to make it a rule not to letanyone through unless they were bribed to do it. The children heardseveral promises of the utmost richness, and wondered whether they wouldever be kept. 

All round the hall were pillars of painted wood. The roof was of cedar, gorgeously inlaid. About half-way up the hall was a wide, shallow stepthat went right across the hall; then a little farther on another; andthen a steep flight of narrower steps, leading right up to the throne onwhich Pharaoh sat. He sat there very splendid, his red and white doublecrown on his head, and his sceptre in his hand. The throne had a canopyof wood and wooden pillars painted in bright colours. On a low, broadbench that ran all round the hall sat the friends, relatives, andcourtiers of the King, leaning on richly-covered cushions. 

The priest led the children up the steps till they all stood before thethrone; and then, suddenly, he fell on his face with hands outstretched. The others did the same, Anthea falling very carefully because of thePsammead. 

'Raise them, ' said the voice of Pharaoh, 'that they may speak to me. '

The officers of the King's household raised them. 

'Who are these strangers?' Pharaoh asked, and added very crossly, 'Andwhat do you mean, Rekh-mara, by daring to come into my presence whileyour innocence is not established?'

'Oh, great King, ' said the young priest, 'you are the very image ofRa, and the likeness of his son Horus in every respect. You know thethoughts of the hearts of the gods and of men, and you have divinedthat these strangers are the children of the children of the vile andconquered Kings of the Empire where the sun never sets. They know amagic not known to the Egyptians. And they come with gifts in theirhands as tribute to Pharaoh, in whose heart is the wisdom of the gods, and on his lips their truth. '

'That is all very well, ' said Pharaoh, 'but where are the gifts?'

The children, bowing as well as they could in their embarrassment atfinding themselves the centre of interest in a circle more grand, moregolden and more highly coloured than they could have imagined possible, pulled out the padlock, the Necessaire, and the tie-clip. 'But it's nottribute all the same, ' Cyril muttered. 'England doesn't pay tribute!'

Pharaoh examined all the things with great interest when the chief ofthe household had taken them up to him. 'Deliver them to the Keeper ofthe Treasury, ' he said to one near him. And to the children he said--

'A small tribute, truly, but strange, and not without worth. And themagic, O Rekh-mara?'

'These unworthy sons of a conquered nation. . . ' began Rekh-mara. 

'Nothing of the kind!' Cyril whispered angrily. 

'. . . Of a vile and conquered nation, can make fire to spring from drywood--in the sight of all. '

'I should jolly well like to see them do it, ' said Pharaoh, just as thepriest had done. 

So Cyril, without more ado, did it. 

'Do more magic, ' said the King, with simple appreciation. 

'He cannot do any more magic, ' said Anthea suddenly, and all eyes wereturned on her, 'because of the voice of the free people who are shoutingfor bread and onions and beer and a long mid-day rest. If the people hadwhat they wanted, he could do more. '

'A rude-spoken girl, ' said Pharaoh. 'But give the dogs what they want, 'he said, without turning his head. 'Let them have their rest and theirextra rations. There are plenty of slaves to work. '

A richly-dressed official hurried out. 

'You will be the idol of the people, ' Rekh-mara whispered joyously; 'theTemple of Amen will not contain their offerings. '

Cyril struck another match, and all the court was overwhelmed withdelight and wonder. And when Cyril took the candle from his pocket andlighted it with the match, and then held the burning candle up beforethe King the enthusiasm knew no bounds. 

'Oh, greatest of all, before whom sun and moon and stars bow down, ' saidRekh-mara insinuatingly, 'am I pardoned? Is my innocence made plain?'

'As plain as it ever will be, I daresay, ' said Pharaoh shortly. 'Getalong with you. You are pardoned. Go in peace. ' The priest went withlightning swiftness. 

'And what, ' said the King suddenly, 'is it that moves in that sack?

Show me, oh strangers. '

There was nothing for it but to show the Psammead. 

'Seize it, ' said Pharaoh carelessly. 'A very curious monkey. It will bea nice little novelty for my wild beast collection. '

And instantly, the entreaties of the children availing as little as thebites of the Psammead, though both bites and entreaties were fervent, itwas carried away from before their eyes. 

'Oh, DO be careful!' cried Anthea. 'At least keep it dry! Keep it in itssacred house!'

She held up the embroidered bag. 

'It's a magic creature, ' cried Robert; 'it's simply priceless!'

'You've no right to take it away, ' cried Jane incautiously. 'It's ashame, a barefaced robbery, that's what it is!'

There was an awful silence. Then Pharaoh spoke. 

'Take the sacred house of the beast from them, ' he said, 'and imprisonall. Tonight after supper it may be our pleasure to see more magic. Guard them well, and do not torture them--yet!'

'Oh, dear!' sobbed Jane, as they were led away. 'I knew exactly what itwould be! Oh, I wish you hadn't!'

'Shut up, silly, ' said Cyril. 'You know you WOULD come to Egypt. It wasyour own idea entirely. Shut up. It'll be all right. '

'I thought we should play ball with queens, ' sobbed Jane, 'and have noend of larks! And now everything's going to be perfectly horrid!'

The room they were shut up in WAS a room, and not a dungeon, as theelder ones had feared. That, as Anthea said, was one comfort. Therewere paintings on the wall that at any other time would have been mostinteresting. And a sort of low couch, and chairs. When they were aloneJane breathed a sigh of relief. 'Now we can get home all right, ' shesaid. 

'And leave the Psammead?' said Anthea reproachfully. 

'Wait a sec. I've got an idea, ' said Cyril. He pondered for a fewmoments. Then he began hammering on the heavy cedar door. It opened, anda guard put in his head. 

'Stop that row, ' he said sternly, 'or--'

'Look here, ' Cyril interrupted, 'it's very dull for you isn't it? Justdoing nothing but guard us. Wouldn't you like to see some magic? We'renot too proud to do it for you. Wouldn't you like to see it?'

'I don't mind if I do, ' said the guard. 

'Well then, you get us that monkey of ours that was taken away, andwe'll show you. '

'How do I know you're not making game of me?' asked the soldier. 'Shouldn't wonder if you only wanted to get the creature so as to set iton me. I daresay its teeth and claws are poisonous. ' 'Well, look here, 'said Robert. 'You see we've got nothing with us? You just shut the door, and open it again in five minutes, and we'll have got a magic--oh, Idon't know--a magic flower in a pot for you. '

'If you can do that you can do anything, ' said the soldier, and he wentout and barred the door. 

Then, of course, they held up the Amulet. They found the East by holdingit up, and turning slowly till the Amulet began to grow big, walked homethrough it, and came back with a geranium in full scarlet flower fromthe staircase window of the Fitzroy Street house. 

'Well!' said the soldier when he came in. 'I really am--!'

'We can do much more wonderful things than that--oh, ever so much, ' saidAnthea persuasively, 'if we only have our monkey. And here's twopencefor yourself. '

The soldier looked at the twopence. 

'What's this?' he said. 

Robert explained how much simpler it was to pay money for things thanto exchange them as the people were doing in the market. Later on thesoldier gave the coins to his captain, who, later still, showed them toPharaoh, who of course kept them and was much struck with the idea. That was really how coins first came to be used in Egypt. You will notbelieve this, I daresay, but really, if you believe the rest of thestory, I don't see why you shouldn't believe this as well. 

'I say, ' said Anthea, struck by a sudden thought, 'I suppose it'll beall right about those workmen? The King won't go back on what he saidabout them just because he's angry with us?'

'Oh, no, ' said the soldier, 'you see, he's rather afraid of magic. He'llkeep to his word right enough. '

'Then THAT'S all right, ' said Robert; and Anthea said softly andcoaxingly--

'Ah, DO get us the monkey, and then you'll see some lovely magic. Do--there's a nice, kind soldier. '

'I don't know where they've put your precious monkey, but if I can getanother chap to take on my duty here I'll see what I can do, ' he saidgrudgingly, and went out. 

'Do you mean, ' said Robert, 'that we're going off without even TRYINGfor the other half of the Amulet?'

'I really think we'd better, ' said Anthea tremulously. 'Of course theother half of the Amulet's here somewhere or our half wouldn't havebrought us here. I do wish we could find it. It is a pity we don'tknow any REAL magic. Then we could find out. I do wonder where itis--exactly. '

If they had only known it, something very like the other half of theAmulet was very near them. It hung round the neck of someone, andthat someone was watching them through a chink, high up in the wall, specially devised for watching people who were imprisoned. But they didnot know. 

There was nearly an hour of anxious waiting. They tried to take aninterest in the picture on the wall, a picture of harpers playingvery odd harps and women dancing at a feast. They examined the paintedplaster floor, and the chairs were of white painted wood with colouredstripes at intervals. 

But the time went slowly, and everyone had time to think of how Pharaohhad said, 'Don't torture them--YET. '

'If the worst comes to the worst, ' said Cyril, 'we must just bunk, andleave the Psammead. I believe it can take care of itself well enough. They won't kill it or hurt it when they find it can speak and givewishes. They'll build it a temple, I shouldn't wonder. '

'I couldn't bear to go without it, ' said Anthea, 'and Pharaoh said"After supper", that won't be just yet. And the soldier WAS curious. I'msure we're all right for the present. '

All the same, the sounds of the door being unbarred seemed one of theprettiest sounds possible. 

'Suppose he hasn't got the Psammead?' whispered Jane. 

But that doubt was set at rest by the Psammead itself; for almost beforethe door was open it sprang through the chink of it into Anthea's arms, shivering and hunching up its fur. 

'Here's its fancy overcoat, ' said the soldier, holding out the bag, intowhich the Psammead immediately crept. 

'Now, ' said Cyril, 'what would you like us to do? Anything you'd like usto get for you?'

'Any little trick you like, ' said the soldier. 'If you can get a strangeflower blooming in an earthenware vase you can get anything, I suppose, 'he said. 'I just wish I'd got two men's loads of jewels from the King'streasury. That's what I've always wished for. '

At the word 'WISH' the children knew that the Psammead would attend toTHAT bit of magic. It did, and the floor was littered with a spreadingheap of gold and precious stones. 

'Any other little trick?' asked Cyril loftily. 'Shall we becomeinvisible? Vanish?'

'Yes, if you like, ' said the soldier; 'but not through the door, youdon't. '

He closed it carefully and set his broad Egyptian back against it. 

'No! no!' cried a voice high up among the tops of the tall woodenpillars that stood against the wall. There was a sound of someone movingabove. 

The soldier was as much surprised as anybody. 

'That's magic, if you like, ' he said. 

And then Jane held up the Amulet, uttering the word of Power. At thesound of it and at the sight of the Amulet growing into the great archthe soldier fell flat on his face among the jewels with a cry of awe andterror. 

The children went through the arch with a quickness born of longpractice. But Jane stayed in the middle of the arch and looked back. 

The others, standing on the dining-room carpet in Fitzroy Street, turnedand saw her still in the arch. 'Someone's holding her, ' cried Cyril. 'Wemust go back. '

But they pulled at Jane's hands just to see if she would come, and, ofcourse, she did come. 

Then, as usual, the arch was little again and there they all were. 

'Oh, I do wish you hadn't!' Jane said crossly. 'It WAS so interesting. The priest had come in and he was kicking the soldier, and tellinghim he'd done it now, and they must take the jewels and flee for theirlives. '

'And did they?'

'I don't know. You interfered, ' said Jane ungratefully. 'I SHOULD haveliked to see the last of it. '

As a matter of fact, none of them had seen the last of it--if by 'it'Jane meant the adventure of the Priest and the Soldier. 

CHAPTER 12. THE SORRY-PRESENT AND THE EXPELLED LITTLE BOY

'Look here, said Cyril, sitting on the dining-table and swinging hislegs; 'I really have got it. '

'Got what?' was the not unnatural rejoinder of the others. 

Cyril was making a boat with a penknife and a piece of wood, and thegirls were making warm frocks for their dolls, for the weather wasgrowing chilly. 

'Why, don't you see? It's really not any good our going into the Pastlooking for that Amulet. The Past's as full of different times as--asthe sea is of sand. We're simply bound to hit upon the wrong time. Wemight spend our lives looking for the Amulet and never see a sight ofit. Why, it's the end of September already. It's like looking for aneedle in--'

'A bottle of hay--I know, ' interrupted Robert; 'but if we don't go ondoing that, what ARE we to do?'

'That's just it, ' said Cyril in mysterious accents. 'Oh, BOTHER!'

Old Nurse had come in with the tray of knives, forks, and glasses, and was getting the tablecloth and table-napkins out of the chiffonierdrawer. 

'It's always meal-times just when you come to anything interesting. '

'And a nice interesting handful YOU'D be, Master Cyril, ' said old Nurse, 'if I wasn't to bring your meals up to time. Don't you begin grumblingnow, fear you get something to grumble AT. '

'I wasn't grumbling, ' said Cyril quite untruly; 'but it does alwayshappen like that. '

'You deserve to HAVE something happen, ' said old Nurse. 'Slave, slave, slave for you day and night, and never a word of thanks. . . . '

'Why, you do everything beautifully, ' said Anthea. 

'It's the first time any of you's troubled to say so, anyhow, ' saidNurse shortly. 

'What's the use of SAYING?' inquired Robert. 'We EAT our meals fastenough, and almost always two helps. THAT ought to show you!'

'Ah!' said old Nurse, going round the table and putting the knives andforks in their places; 'you're a man all over, Master Robert. There wasmy poor Green, all the years he lived with me I never could get moreout of him than "It's all right!" when I asked him if he'd fancied hisdinner. And yet, when he lay a-dying, his last words to me was, "Maria, you was always a good cook!"' She ended with a trembling voice. 

'And so you are, ' cried Anthea, and she and Jane instantly hugged her. 

When she had gone out of the room Anthea said--

'I know exactly how she feels. Now, look here! Let's do a penance toshow we're sorry we didn't think about telling her before what nicecooking she does, and what a dear she is. '

'Penances are silly, ' said Robert. 

'Not if the penance is something to please someone else. I didn't meanold peas and hair shirts and sleeping on the stones. I mean we'll makeher a sorry-present, ' explained Anthea. 'Look here! I vote Cyril doesn'ttell us his idea until we've done something for old Nurse. It's worsefor us than him, ' she added hastily, 'because he knows what it is and wedon't. Do you all agree?'

The others would have been ashamed not to agree, so they did. It was nottill quite near the end of dinner--mutton fritters and blackberry andapple pie--that out of the earnest talk of the four came an idea thatpleased everybody and would, they hoped, please Nurse. 

Cyril and Robert went out with the taste of apple still in their mouthsand the purple of blackberries on their lips--and, in the case ofRobert, on the wristband as well--and bought a big sheet of cardboard atthe stationers. Then at the plumber's shop, that has tubes and pipesand taps and gas-fittings in the window, they bought a pane of glass thesame size as the cardboard. The man cut it with a very interesting toolthat had a bit of diamond at the end, and he gave them, out of his ownfree generousness, a large piece of putty and a small piece of glue. 

While they were out the girls had floated four photographs of the fourchildren off their cards in hot water. These were now stuck in a rowalong the top of the cardboard. Cyril put the glue to melt in a jampot, and put the jampot in a saucepan and saucepan on the fire, while Robertpainted a wreath of poppies round the photographs. He painted ratherwell and very quickly, and poppies are easy to do if you've once beenshown how. Then Anthea drew some printed letters and Jane coloured them. The words were:

 'With all our loves to shew We like the thigs to eat. '

And when the painting was dry they all signed their names at the bottomand put the glass on, and glued brown paper round the edge and over theback, and put two loops of tape to hang it up by. 

Of course everyone saw when too late that there were not enough lettersin 'things', so the missing 'n' was put in. It was impossible, ofcourse, to do the whole thing over again for just one letter. 

'There!' said Anthea, placing it carefully, face up, under the sofa. 'It'll be hours before the glue's dry. Now, Squirrel, fire ahead!'

'Well, then, ' said Cyril in a great hurry, rubbing at his gluey handswith his pocket handkerchief. 'What I mean to say is this. '

There was a long pause. 

'Well, ' said Robert at last, 'WHAT is it that you mean to say?'

'It's like this, ' said Cyril, and again stopped short. 

'Like WHAT?' asked Jane. 

'How can I tell you if you will all keep on interrupting?' said Cyrilsharply. 

So no one said any more, and with wrinkled frowns he arranged his ideas. 

'Look here, ' he said, 'what I really mean is--we can remember now whatwe did when we went to look for the Amulet. And if we'd found it weshould remember that too. '

'Rather!' said Robert. 'Only, you see we haven't. '

'But in the future we shall have. '

'Shall we, though?' said Jane. 

'Yes--unless we've been made fools of by the Psammead. So then, where wewant to go to is where we shall remember about where we did find it. '

'I see, ' said Robert, but he didn't. 

'_I_ don't, ' said Anthea, who did, very nearly. 'Say it again, Squirrel, and very slowly. '

'If, ' said Cyril, very slowly indeed, 'we go into the future--afterwe've found the Amulet--'

'But we've got to find it first, ' said Jane. 

'Hush!' said Anthea. 

'There will be a future, ' said Cyril, driven to greater clearness by theblank faces of the other three, 'there will be a time AFTER we've foundit. Let's go into THAT time--and then we shall remember HOW we found it. And then we can go back and do the finding really. '

'I see, ' said Robert, and this time he did, and I hope YOU do. 

'Yes, ' said Anthea. 'Oh, Squirrel, how clever of you!'

'But will the Amulet work both ways?' inquired Robert. 

'It ought to, ' said Cyril, 'if time's only a thingummy of whatsitsname. Anyway we might try. '

'Let's put on our best things, then, ' urged Jane. 'You know what peoplesay about progress and the world growing better and brighter. I expectpeople will be awfully smart in the future. '

'All right, ' said Anthea, 'we should have to wash anyway, I'm all thickwith glue. '

When everyone was clean and dressed, the charm was held up. 

'We want to go into the future and see the Amulet after we've found it, 'said Cyril, and Jane said the word of Power. They walked through the bigarch of the charm straight into the British Museum. 

They knew it at once, and there, right in front of them, under a glasscase, was the Amulet--their own half of it, as well as the other halfthey had never been able to find--and the two were joined by a pin ofred stone that formed a hinge. 

'Oh, glorious!' cried Robert. 'Here it is!'

'Yes, ' said Cyril, very gloomily, 'here it is. But we can't get it out. '

'No, ' said Robert, remembering how impossible the Queen of Babylon hadfound it to get anything out of the glass cases in the Museum--except byPsammead magic, and then she hadn't been able to take anything away withher; 'no--but we remember where we got it, and we can--'

'Oh, DO we?' interrupted Cyril bitterly, 'do YOU remember where we gotit?'

'No, ' said Robert, 'I don't exactly, now I come to think of it. '

Nor did any of the others!

'But WHY can't we?' said Jane. 

'Oh, _I_ don't know, ' Cyril's tone was impatient, 'some silly oldenchanted rule I suppose. I wish people would teach you magic at schoollike they do sums--or instead of. It would be some use having an Amuletthen. '

'I wonder how far we are in the future, ' said Anthea; the Museum looksjust the same, only lighter and brighter, somehow. '

'Let's go back and try the Past again, ' said Robert. 

'Perhaps the Museum people could tell us how we got it, ' said Antheawith sudden hope. There was no one in the room, but in the next gallery, where the Assyrian things are and still were, they found a kind, stoutman in a loose, blue gown, and stockinged legs. 

'Oh, they've got a new uniform, how pretty!' said Jane. 

When they asked him their question he showed them a label on the case. It said, 'From the collection of--. ' A name followed, and it was thename of the learned gentleman who, among themselves, and to his facewhen he had been with them at the other side of the Amulet, they hadcalled Jimmy. 

'THAT'S not much good, ' said Cyril, 'thank you. '

'How is it you're not at school?' asked the kind man in blue. 'Notexpelled for long I hope?'

'We're not expelled at all, ' said Cyril rather warmly. 

'Well, I shouldn't do it again, if I were you, ' said the man, andthey could see he did not believe them. There is no company so littlepleasing as that of people who do not believe you. 

'Thank you for showing us the label, ' said Cyril. And they came away. 

As they came through the doors of the Museum they blinked at the suddenglory of sunlight and blue sky. The houses opposite the Museum weregone. Instead there was a big garden, with trees and flowers and smoothgreen lawns, and not a single notice to tell you not to walk on thegrass and not to destroy the trees and shrubs and not to pick theflowers. There were comfortable seats all about, and arbours coveredwith roses, and long, trellised walks, also rose-covered. Whispering, splashing fountains fell into full white marble basins, white statuesgleamed among the leaves, and the pigeons that swept about among thebranches or pecked on the smooth, soft gravel were not black and tumbledlike the Museum pigeons are now, but bright and clean and sleek as birdsof new silver. A good many people were sitting on the seats, and on thegrass babies were rolling and kicking and playing--with very little onindeed. Men, as well as women, seemed to be in charge of the babies andwere playing with them. 

'It's like a lovely picture, ' said Anthea, and it was. For the people'sclothes were of bright, soft colours and all beautifully and very simplymade. No one seemed to have any hats or bonnets, but there were a greatmany Japanese-looking sunshades. And among the trees were hung lamps ofcoloured glass. 

'I expect they light those in the evening, ' said Jane. 'I do wish welived in the future!'

They walked down the path, and as they went the people on the bencheslooked at the four children very curiously, but not rudely or unkindly. The children, in their turn, looked--I hope they did not stare--at thefaces of these people in the beautiful soft clothes. Those faces wereworth looking at. Not that they were all handsome, though even in thematter of handsomeness they had the advantage of any set of people thechildren had ever seen. But it was the expression of their faces thatmade them worth looking at. The children could not tell at first what itwas. 

'I know, ' said Anthea suddenly. 'They're not worried; that's what itis. '

And it was. Everybody looked calm, no one seemed to be in a hurry, noone seemed to be anxious, or fretted, and though some did seem to besad, not a single one looked worried. 

But though the people looked kind everyone looked so interested in thechildren that they began to feel a little shy and turned out of the bigmain path into a narrow little one that wound among trees and shrubs andmossy, dripping springs. 

It was here, in a deep, shadowed cleft between tall cypresses, that theyfound the expelled little boy. He was lying face downward on the mossyturf, and the peculiar shaking of his shoulders was a thing they hadseen, more than once, in each other. So Anthea kneeled down by him andsaid--

'What's the matter?'

'I'm expelled from school, ' said the boy between his sobs. 

This was serious. People are not expelled for light offences. 

'Do you mind telling us what you'd done?'

'I--I tore up a sheet of paper and threw it about in the playground, 'said the child, in the tone of one confessing an unutterable baseness. 'You won't talk to me any more now you know that, ' he added withoutlooking up. 

'Was that all?' asked Anthea. 

'It's about enough, ' said the child; 'and I'm expelled for the wholeday!'

'I don't quite understand, ' said Anthea, gently. The boy lifted hisface, rolled over, and sat up. 

'Why, whoever on earth are you?' he said. 

'We're strangers from a far country, ' said Anthea. 'In our country it'snot a crime to leave a bit of paper about. '

'It is here, ' said the child. 'If grown-ups do it they're fined. When wedo it we're expelled for the whole day. '

'Well, but, ' said Robert, 'that just means a day's holiday. '

'You MUST come from a long way off, ' said the little boy. 'A holiday'swhen you all have play and treats and jolliness, all of you together. On your expelled days no one'll speak to you. Everyone sees you're anExpelleder or you'd be in school. '

'Suppose you were ill?'

'Nobody is--hardly. If they are, of course they wear the badge, andeveryone is kind to you. I know a boy that stole his sister's illnessbadge and wore it when he was expelled for a day. HE got expelled for aweek for that. It must be awful not to go to school for a week. '

'Do you LIKE school, then?' asked Robert incredulously. 

'Of course I do. It's the loveliest place there is. I chose railways formy special subject this year, there are such splendid models and things, and now I shall be all behind because of that torn-up paper. '

'You choose your own subject?' asked Cyril. 

'Yes, of course. Where DID you come from? Don't you know ANYTHING?'

'No, ' said Jane definitely; 'so you'd better tell us. '

'Well, on Midsummer Day school breaks up and everything's decorated withflowers, and you choose your special subject for next year. Of courseyou have to stick to it for a year at least. Then there are all yourother subjects, of course, reading, and painting, and the rules ofCitizenship. '

'Good gracious!' said Anthea. 

'Look here, ' said the child, jumping up, 'it's nearly four. Theexpelledness only lasts till then. Come home with me. Mother will tellyou all about everything. '

'Will your mother like you taking home strange children?' asked Anthea. 

'I don't understand, ' said the child, settling his leather belt over hishoney-coloured smock and stepping out with hard little bare feet. 'Comeon. '

So they went. 

The streets were wide and hard and very clean. There were no horses, buta sort of motor carriage that made no noise. The Thames flowed betweengreen banks, and there were trees at the edge, and people sat underthem, fishing, for the stream was clear as crystal. Everywhere therewere green trees and there was no smoke. The houses were set in whatseemed like one green garden. 

The little boy brought them to a house, and at the window was a good, bright mother-face. The little boy rushed in, and through the windowthey could see him hugging his mother, then his eager lips moving andhis quick hands pointing. 

A lady in soft green clothes came out, spoke kindly to them, and tookthem into the oddest house they had ever seen. It was very bare, therewere no ornaments, and yet every single thing was beautiful, fromthe dresser with its rows of bright china, to the thick squares ofEastern-looking carpet on the floors. I can't describe that house; Ihaven't the time. And I haven't heart either, when I think how differentit was from our houses. The lady took them all over it. The oddest thingof all was the big room in the middle. It had padded walls and a soft, thick carpet, and all the chairs and tables were padded. There wasn't asingle thing in it that anyone could hurt itself with. 

'What ever's this for?--lunatics?' asked Cyril. 

The lady looked very shocked. 

'No! It's for the children, of course, ' she said. 'Don't tell me that inyour country there are no children's rooms. '

'There are nurseries, ' said Anthea doubtfully, 'but the furniture's allcornery and hard, like other rooms. '

'How shocking!' said the lady;'you must be VERY much behind the times inyour country! Why, the children are more than half of the people; it'snot much to have one room where they can have a good time and not hurtthemselves. '

'But there's no fireplace, ' said Anthea. 

'Hot-air pipes, of course, ' said the lady. 'Why, how could you have afire in a nursery? A child might get burned. '

'In our country, ' said Robert suddenly, 'more than 3, 000 children areburned to death every year. Father told me, ' he added, as if apologizingfor this piece of information, 'once when I'd been playing with fire. '

The lady turned quite pale. 

'What a frightful place you must live in!' she said. 'What's all thefurniture padded for?' Anthea asked, hastily turning the subject. 

'Why, you couldn't have little tots of two or three running about inrooms where the things were hard and sharp! They might hurt themselves. '

Robert fingered the scar on his forehead where he had hit it against thenursery fender when he was little. 

'But does everyone have rooms like this, poor people and all?' askedAnthea. 

'There's a room like this wherever there's a child, of course, ' said thelady. 'How refreshingly ignorant you are!--no, I don't mean ignorant, my dear. Of course, you're awfully well up in ancient History. But I seeyou haven't done your Duties of Citizenship Course yet. '

'But beggars, and people like that?' persisted Anthea 'and tramps andpeople who haven't any homes?'

'People who haven't any homes?' repeated the lady. 'I really DON'Tunderstand what you're talking about. '

'It's all different in our country, ' said Cyril carefully; and I haveread it used to be different in London. Usedn't people to have no homesand beg because they were hungry? And wasn't London very black anddirty once upon a time? And the Thames all muddy and filthy? And narrowstreets, and--'

'You must have been reading very old-fashioned books, ' said the lady. 'Why, all that was in the dark ages! My husband can tell you more aboutit than I can. He took Ancient History as one of his special subjects. '

'I haven't seen any working people, ' said Anthea. 

'Why, we're all working people, ' said the lady; 'at least my husband's acarpenter. '

'Good gracious!' said Anthea; 'but you're a lady!'

'Ah, ' said the lady, 'that quaint old word! Well, my husband WILL enjoya talk with you. In the dark ages everyone was allowed to have a smokychimney, and those nasty horses all over the streets, and all sorts ofrubbish thrown into the Thames. And, of course, the sufferings of thepeople will hardly bear thinking of. It's very learned of you to know itall. Did you make Ancient History your special subject?'

'Not exactly, ' said Cyril, rather uneasily. 'What is the Duties ofCitizenship Course about?'

'Don't you REALLY know? Aren't you pretending--just for fun? Really not?Well, that course teaches you how to be a good citizen, what you mustdo and what you mayn't do, so as to do your full share of the work ofmaking your town a beautiful and happy place for people to live in. There's a quite simple little thing they teach the tiny children. Howdoes it go. . . ?

 'I must not steal and I must learn, Nothing is mine that I do not earn. I must try in work and play To make things beautiful every day. I must be kind to everyone, And never let cruel things be done. I must be brave, and I must try When I am hurt never to cry, And always laugh as much as I can, And be glad that I'm going to be a man To work for my living and help the rest And never do less than my very best. '

'That's very easy, ' said Jane. '_I_ could remember that. '

'That's only the very beginning, of course, ' said the lady; 'there areheaps more rhymes. There's the one beginning--

 'I must not litter the beautiful street With bits of paper or things to eat; I must not pick the public flowers, They are not MINE, but they are OURS. '

'And "things to eat" reminds me--are you hungry? Wells, run and get atray of nice things. '

'Why do you call him "Wells"?' asked Robert, as the boy ran off. 

'It's after the great reformer--surely you've heard of HIM? He lived inthe dark ages, and he saw that what you ought to do is to find out whatyou want and then try to get it. Up to then people had always triedto tinker up what they'd got. We've got a great many of the things hethought of. Then "Wells" means springs of clear water. It's a nice name, don't you think?'

Here Wells returned with strawberries and cakes and lemonade on a tray, and everybody ate and enjoyed. 

'Now, Wells, ' said the lady, 'run off or you'll be late and not meetyour Daddy. '

Wells kissed her, waved to the others, and went. 

'Look here, ' said Anthea suddenly, 'would you like to come to OURcountry, and see what it's like? It wouldn't take you a minute. '

The lady laughed. But Jane held up the charm and said the word. 

'What a splendid conjuring trick!' cried the lady, enchanted with thebeautiful, growing arch. 

'Go through, ' said Anthea. 

The lady went, laughing. But she did not laugh when she found herself, suddenly, in the dining-room at Fitzroy Street. 

'Oh, what a HORRIBLE trick!' she cried. 'What a hateful, dark, uglyplace!'

She ran to the window and looked out. The sky was grey, the street wasfoggy, a dismal organ-grinder was standing opposite the door, a beggarand a man who sold matches were quarrelling at the edge of the pavementon whose greasy black surface people hurried along, hastening to get tothe shelter of their houses. 

'Oh, look at their faces, their horrible faces!' she cried. 'What's thematter with them all?'

'They're poor people, that's all, ' said Robert. 

'But it's NOT all! They're ill, they're unhappy, they're wicked! Oh, do stop it, there's dear children. It's very, very clever. Some sort ofmagic-lantern trick, I suppose, like I've read of. But DO stop it. Oh!their poor, tired, miserable, wicked faces!'

The tears were in her eyes. Anthea signed to Jane. The arch grew, theyspoke the words, and pushed the lady through it into her own time andplace, where London is clean and beautiful, and the Thames runs clearand bright, and the green trees grow, and no one is afraid, or anxious, or in a hurry. There was a silence. Then--

'I'm glad we went, ' said Anthea, with a deep breath. 

'I'll never throw paper about again as long as I live, ' said Robert. 

'Mother always told us not to, ' said Jane. 

'I would like to take up the Duties of Citizenship for a specialsubject, ' said Cyril. 'I wonder if Father could put me through it. Ishall ask him when he comes home. '

'If we'd found the Amulet, Father could be home NOW, ' said Anthea, 'andMother and The Lamb. '

'Let's go into the future AGAIN, ' suggested Jane brightly. 'Perhaps wecould remember if it wasn't such an awful way off. '

So they did. This time they said, 'The future, where the Amulet is, notso far away. '

And they went through the familiar arch into a large, light room withthree windows. Facing them was the familiar mummy-case. And at a tableby the window sat the learned gentleman. They knew him at once, thoughhis hair was white. He was one of the faces that do not change with age. In his hand was the Amulet--complete and perfect. 

He rubbed his other hand across his forehead in the way they were soused to. 

'Dreams, dreams!' he said; 'old age is full of them!'

'You've been in dreams with us before now, ' said Robert, 'don't youremember?'

'I do, indeed, ' said he. The room had many more books than the FitzroyStreet room, and far more curious and wonderful Assyrian and Egyptianobjects. 'The most wonderful dreams I ever had had you in them. '

'Where, ' asked Cyril, 'did you get that thing in your hand?'

'If you weren't just a dream, ' he answered, smiling, you'd remember thatyou gave it to me. '

'But where did we get it?' Cyril asked eagerly. 

'Ah, you never would tell me that, ' he said, 'You always had your littlemysteries. You dear children! What a difference you made to that oldBloomsbury house! I wish I could dream you oftener. Now you're grown upyou're not like you used to be. '

'Grown up?' said Anthea. 

The learned gentleman pointed to a frame with four photographs in it. 

'There you are, ' he said. 

The children saw four grown-up people's portraits--two ladies, twogentlemen--and looked on them with loathing. 

'Shall we grow up like THAT?' whispered Jane. 'How perfectly horrid!'

'If we're ever like that, we sha'n't know it's horrid, I expect, ' Antheawith some insight whispered back. 'You see, you get used to yourselfwhile you're changing. It's--it's being so sudden makes it seem sofrightful now. '

The learned gentleman was looking at them with wistful kindness. 'Don'tlet me undream you just yet, ' he said. There was a pause. 

'Do you remember WHEN we gave you that Amulet?' Cyril asked suddenly. 

'You know, or you would if you weren't a dream, that it was on the 3rdDecember, 1905. I shall never forget THAT day. '

'Thank you, ' said Cyril, earnestly; 'oh, thank you very much. '

'You've got a new room, ' said Anthea, looking out of the window, 'andwhat a lovely garden!'

'Yes, ' said he, 'I'm too old now to care even about being near theMuseum. This is a beautiful place. Do you know--I can hardly believeyou're just a dream, you do look so exactly real. Do you know. . . ' hisvoice dropped, 'I can say it to YOU, though, of course, if I said it toanyone that wasn't a dream they'd call me mad; there was something aboutthat Amulet you gave me--something very mysterious. '

'There was that, ' said Robert. 

'Ah, I don't mean your pretty little childish mysteries about where yougot it. But about the thing itself. First, the wonderful dreams I usedto have, after you'd shown me the first half of it! Why, my book onAtlantis, that I did, was the beginning of my fame and my fortune, too. And I got it all out of a dream! And then, "Britain at the Time of theRoman Invasion"--that was only a pamphlet, but it explained a lot ofthings people hadn't understood. '

'Yes, ' said Anthea, 'it would. '

'That was the beginning. But after you'd given me the whole of theAmulet--ah, it was generous of you!--then, somehow, I didn't need totheorize, I seemed to KNOW about the old Egyptian civilization. Andthey can't upset my theories'--he rubbed his thin hands and laughedtriumphantly--'they can't, though they've tried. Theories, they callthem, but they're more like--I don't know--more like memories. I KNOWI'm right about the secret rites of the Temple of Amen. '

'I'm so glad you're rich, ' said Anthea. 'You weren't, you know, atFitzroy Street. '

'Indeed I wasn't, ' said he, 'but I am now. This beautiful house and thislovely garden--I dig in it sometimes; you remember, you used to tellme to take more exercise? Well, I feel I owe it all to you--and theAmulet. '

'I'm so glad, ' said Anthea, and kissed him. He started. 

'THAT didn't feel like a dream, ' he said, and his voice trembled. 

'It isn't exactly a dream, ' said Anthea softly, 'it's all part of theAmulet--it's a sort of extra special, real dream, dear Jimmy. '

'Ah, ' said he, 'when you call me that, I know I'm dreaming. My littlesister--I dream of her sometimes. But it's not real like this. Do youremember the day I dreamed you brought me the Babylonish ring?'

'We remember it all, ' said Robert. 'Did you leave Fitzroy Street becauseyou were too rich for it?'

'Oh, no!' he said reproachfully. 'You know I should never have done sucha thing as that. Of course, I left when your old Nurse died and--what'sthe matter!'

'Old Nurse DEAD?' said Anthea. 'Oh, NO!'

'Yes, yes, it's the common lot. It's a long time ago now. '

Jane held up the Amulet in a hand that twittered. 

'Come!' she cried, 'oh, come home! She may be dead before we get there, and then we can't give it to her. Oh, come!'

'Ah, don't let the dream end now!' pleaded the learned gentleman. 

'It must, ' said Anthea firmly, and kissed him again. 

'When it comes to people dying, ' said Robert, 'good-bye! I'm so gladyou're rich and famous and happy. '

'DO come!' cried Jane, stamping in her agony of impatience. And theywent. Old Nurse brought in tea almost as soon as they were back inFitzroy Street. As she came in with the tray, the girls rushed at herand nearly upset her and it. 

'Don't die!' cried Jane, 'oh, don't!' and Anthea cried, 'Dear, ducky, darling old Nurse, don't die!'

'Lord, love you!' said Nurse, 'I'm not agoin' to die yet a while, pleaseHeaven! Whatever on earth's the matter with the chicks?'

'Nothing. Only don't!'

She put the tray down and hugged the girls in turn. The boys thumped heron the back with heartfelt affection. 

'I'm as well as ever I was in my life, ' she said. 'What nonsense aboutdying! You've been a sitting too long in the dusk, that's what it is. Regular blind man's holiday. Leave go of me, while I light the gas. '

The yellow light illuminated four pale faces. 'We do love you so, 'Anthea went on, 'and we've made you a picture to show you how we loveyou. Get it out, Squirrel. '

The glazed testimonial was dragged out from under the sofa anddisplayed. 

'The glue's not dry yet, ' said Cyril, 'look out!'

'What a beauty!' cried old Nurse. 'Well, I never! And your pictures andthe beautiful writing and all. Well, I always did say your hearts was inthe right place, if a bit careless at times. Well! I never did! I don'tknow as I was ever pleased better in my life. '

She hugged them all, one after the other. And the boys did not mind it, somehow, that day. 

'How is it we can remember all about the future, NOW?' Anthea woke thePsammead with laborious gentleness to put the question. 'How is it wecan remember what we saw in the future, and yet, when we WERE in thefuture, we could not remember the bit of the future that was past then, the time of finding the Amulet?'

'Why, what a silly question!' said the Psammead, 'of course you cannotremember what hasn't happened yet. '

'But the FUTURE hasn't happened yet, ' Anthea persisted, 'and we rememberthat all right. '

'Oh, that isn't what's happened, my good child, ' said the Psammead, rather crossly, 'that's prophetic vision. And you remember dreams, don'tyou? So why not visions? You never do seem to understand the simplestthing. '

It went to sand again at once. 

Anthea crept down in her nightgown to give one last kiss to old Nurse, and one last look at the beautiful testimonial hanging, by its tapes, its glue now firmly set, in glazed glory on the wall of the kitchen. 

'Good-night, bless your loving heart, ' said old Nurse, 'if only youdon't catch your deather-cold!'

CHAPTER 13. THE SHIPWRECK ON THE TIN ISLANDS

'Blue and red, ' said Jane softly, 'make purple. '

'Not always they don't, ' said Cyril, 'it has to be crimson lakeand Prussian blue. If you mix Vermilion and Indigo you get the mostloathsome slate colour. '

'Sepia's the nastiest colour in the box, I think, ' said Jane, suckingher brush. 

They were all painting. Nurse in the flush of grateful emotion, excitedby Robert's border of poppies, had presented each of the four with ashilling paint-box, and had supplemented the gift with a pile of oldcopies of the Illustrated London News. 

'Sepia, ' said Cyril instructively, 'is made out of beastly cuttlefish. '

'Purple's made out of a fish, as well as out of red and blue, ' saidRobert. 'Tyrian purple was, I know. '

'Out of lobsters?' said Jane dreamily. 'They're red when they're boiled, and blue when they aren't. If you mixed live and dead lobsters you'd getTyrian purple. '

'_I_ shouldn't like to mix anything with a live lobster, ' said Anthea, shuddering. 

'Well, there aren't any other red and blue fish, ' said Jane; 'you'd haveto. '

'I'd rather not have the purple, ' said Anthea. 

'The Tyrian purple wasn't that colour when it came out of the fish, noryet afterwards, it wasn't, ' said Robert; 'it was scarlet really, andRoman Emperors wore it. And it wasn't any nice colour while the fish hadit. It was a yellowish-white liquid of a creamy consistency. '

'How do you know?' asked Cyril. 

'I read it, ' said Robert, with the meek pride of superior knowledge. 

'Where?' asked Cyril. 

'In print, ' said Robert, still more proudly meek. 

'You think everything's true if it's printed, ' said Cyril, naturallyannoyed, 'but it isn't. Father said so. Quite a lot of lies get printed, especially in newspapers. '

'You see, as it happens, ' said Robert, in what was really a ratherannoying tone, 'it wasn't a newspaper, it was in a book. '

'How sweet Chinese white is!' said Jane, dreamily sucking her brushagain. 

'I don't believe it, ' said Cyril to Robert. 

'Have a suck yourself, ' suggested Robert. 

'I don't mean about the Chinese white. I mean about the cream fishturning purple and--'

'Oh!' cried Anthea, jumping up very quickly, 'I'm tired of painting. Let's go somewhere by Amulet. I say let's let IT choose. '

Cyril and Robert agreed that this was an idea. Jane consented to stoppainting because, as she said, Chinese white, though certainly sweet, gives you a queer feeling in the back of the throat if you paint with ittoo long. 

The Amulet was held up. 'Take us somewhere, ' said Jane, 'anywhere youlike in the Past--but somewhere where you are. ' Then she said the word. 

Next moment everyone felt a queer rocking and swaying--something likewhat you feel when you go out in a fishing boat. And that was notwonderful, when you come to think of it, for it was in a boat that theyfound themselves. A queer boat, with high bulwarks pierced with holesfor oars to go through. There was a high seat for the steersman, andthe prow was shaped like the head of some great animal with big, staringeyes. The boat rode at anchor in a bay, and the bay was very smooth. The crew were dark, wiry fellows with black beards and hair. They had noclothes except a tunic from waist to knee, and round caps with knobson the top. They were very busy, and what they were doing was sointeresting to the children that at first they did not even wonder wherethe Amulet had brought them. And the crew seemed too busy to notice thechildren. They were fastening rush baskets to a long rope with a greatpiece of cork at the end, and in each basket they put mussels or littlefrogs. Then they cast out the rope, the baskets sank, but the corkfloated. And all about on the blue water were other boats and all thecrews of all the boats were busy with ropes and baskets and frogs andmussels. 

'Whatever are you doing?' Jane suddenly asked a man who had rather moreclothes than the others, and seemed to be a sort of captain or overseer. He started and stared at her, but he had seen too many strange lands tobe very much surprised at these queerly-dressed stowaways. 

'Setting lines for the dye shell-fish, ' he said shortly. 'How did youget here?'

'A sort of magic, ' said Robert carelessly. The Captain fingered anAmulet that hung round his neck. 

'What is this place?' asked Cyril. 

'Tyre, of course, ' said the man. Then he drew back and spoke in a lowvoice to one of the sailors. 

'Now we shall know about your precious cream-jug fish, ' said Cyril. 

'But we never SAID come to Tyre, ' said Jane. 

'The Amulet heard us talking, I expect. I think it's MOST obliging ofit, ' said Anthea. 

'And the Amulet's here too, ' said Robert. 'We ought to be able to findit in a little ship like this. I wonder which of them's got it. '

'Oh--look, look!' cried Anthea suddenly. On the bare breast of one ofthe sailors gleamed something red. It was the exact counterpart of theirprecious half-Amulet. 

A silence, full of emotion, was broken by Jane. 

'Then we've found it!' she said. 'Oh do let's take it and go home!'

'Easy to say "take it", ' said Cyril; 'he looks very strong. '

He did--yet not so strong as the other sailors. 

'It's odd, ' said Anthea musingly, 'I do believe I've seen that mansomewhere before. '

'He's rather like our learned gentleman, ' said Robert, 'but I'll tellyou who he's much more like--' At that moment that sailor looked up. Hiseyes met Robert's--and Robert and the others had no longer any doubt asto where they had seen him before. It was Rekh-mara, the priest whohad led them to the palace of Pharaoh--and whom Jane had looked back atthrough the arch, when he was counselling Pharaoh's guard to take thejewels and fly for his life. 

Nobody was quite pleased, and nobody quite knew why. 

Jane voiced the feelings of all when she said, fingering THEIR Amuletthrough the folds of her frock, 'We can go back in a minute if anythingnasty happens. '

For the moment nothing worse happened than an offer of food--figs andcucumbers it was, and very pleasant. 

'I see, ' said the Captain, 'that you are from a far country. Sinceyou have honoured my boat by appearing on it, you must stay heretill morning. Then I will lead you to one of our great ones. He lovesstrangers from far lands. '

'Let's go home, ' Jane whispered, 'all the frogs are drowning NOW. Ithink the people here are cruel. '

But the boys wanted to stay and see the lines taken up in the morning. 

'It's just like eel-pots and lobster-pots, ' said Cyril, 'the basketsonly open from outside--I vote we stay. '

So they stayed. 

'That's Tyre over there, ' said the Captain, who was evidently trying tobe civil. He pointed to a great island rock, that rose steeply from thesea, crowned with huge walls and towers. There was another city on themainland. 

'That's part of Tyre, too, ' said the Captain; 'it's where the greatmerchants have their pleasure-houses and gardens and farms. '

'Look, look!' Cyril cried suddenly; 'what a lovely little ship!'

A ship in full sail was passing swiftly through the fishing fleet. TheCaptain's face changed. He frowned, and his eyes blazed with fury. 

'Insolent young barbarian!' he cried. 'Do you call the ships of TyreLITTLE? None greater sail the seas. That ship has been on a three years'voyage. She is known in all the great trading ports from here to theTin Islands. She comes back rich and glorious. Her very anchor is ofsilver. '

'I'm sure we beg your pardon, ' said Anthea hastily. 'In our country wesay "little" for a pet name. Your wife might call you her dear littlehusband, you know. '

'I should like to catch her at it, ' growled the Captain, but he stoppedscowling. 

'It's a rich trade, ' he went on. 'For cloth ONCE dipped, second-bestglass, and the rough images our young artists carve for practice, thebarbarian King in Tessos lets us work the silver mines. We get so muchsilver there that we leave them our iron anchors and come back withsilver ones. '

'How splendid!' said Robert. 'Do go on. What's cloth once dipped?'

'You MUST be barbarians from the outer darkness, ' said the Captainscornfully. 'All wealthy nations know that our finest stuffs are twicedyed--dibaptha. They're only for the robes of kings and priests andprinces. '

'What do the rich merchants wear, ' asked Jane, with interest, 'in thepleasure-houses?'

'They wear the dibaptha. OUR merchants ARE princes, ' scowled theskipper. 

'Oh, don't be cross, we do so like hearing about things. We want to knowALL about the dyeing, ' said Anthea cordially. 

'Oh, you do, do you?' growled the man. 'So that's what you're here for?Well, you won't get the secrets of the dye trade out of ME. '

He went away, and everyone felt snubbed and uncomfortable. And all thetime the long, narrow eyes of the Egyptian were watching, watching. Theyfelt as though he was watching them through the darkness, when they laydown to sleep on a pile of cloaks. 

Next morning the baskets were drawn up full of what looked like whelkshells. 

The children were rather in the way, but they made themselves as smallas they could. While the skipper was at the other end of the boat theydid ask one question of a sailor, whose face was a little less unkindthan the others. 

'Yes, ' he answered, 'this is the dye-fish. It's a sort of murex--andthere's another kind that they catch at Sidon and then, of course, there's the kind that's used for the dibaptha. But that's quitedifferent. It's--'

'Hold your tongue!' shouted the skipper. And the man held it. 

The laden boat was rowed slowly round the end of the island, and wasmade fast in one of the two great harbours that lay inside a longbreakwater. The harbour was full of all sorts of ships, so thatCyril and Robert enjoyed themselves much more than their sisters. Thebreakwater and the quays were heaped with bales and baskets, and crowdedwith slaves and sailors. Farther along some men were practising diving. 

'That's jolly good, ' said Robert, as a naked brown body cleft the water. 

'I should think so, ' said the skipper. 'The pearl-divers of Persia arenot more skilful. Why, we've got a fresh-water spring that comes out atthe bottom of the sea. Our divers dive down and bring up the fresh waterin skin bottles! Can your barbarian divers do as much?'

'I suppose not, ' said Robert, and put away a wild desire to explainto the Captain the English system of waterworks, pipes, taps, and theintricacies of the plumbers' trade. 

As they neared the quay the skipper made a hasty toilet. He did hishair, combed his beard, put on a garment like a jersey with shortsleeves, an embroidered belt, a necklace of beads, and a big signetring. 

'Now, ' said he, 'I'm fit to be seen. Come along?'

'Where to?' said Jane cautiously. 

'To Pheles, the great sea-captain, said the skipper, 'the man I told youof, who loves barbarians. '

Then Rekh-mara came forward, and, for the first time, spoke. 

'I have known these children in another land, ' he said. 'You know mypowers of magic. It was my magic that brought these barbarians to yourboat. And you know how they will profit you. I read your thoughts. Letme come with you and see the end of them, and then I will work the spellI promised you in return for the little experience you have so kindlygiven me on your boat. '

The skipper looked at the Egyptian with some disfavour. 

'So it was YOUR doing, ' he said. 'I might have guessed it. Well, comeon. '

So he came, and the girls wished he hadn't. But Robert whispered--

'Nonsense--as long as he's with us we've got some chance of the Amulet. We can always fly if anything goes wrong. '

The morning was so fresh and bright; their breakfast had been so goodand so unusual; they had actually seen the Amulet round the Egyptian'sneck. One or two, or all these things, suddenly raised the children'sspirits. They went off quite cheerfully through the city gate--it wasnot arched, but roofed over with a great flat stone--and so through thestreet, which smelt horribly of fish and garlic and a thousand otherthings even less agreeable. But far worse than the street scents was thescent of the factory, where the skipper called in to sell his night'scatch. I wish I could tell you all about that factory, but I haven'ttime, and perhaps after all you aren't interested in dyeing works. Iwill only mention that Robert was triumphantly proved to be right. Thedye WAS a yellowish-white liquid of a creamy consistency, and it smeltmore strongly of garlic than garlic itself does. 

While the skipper was bargaining with the master of the dye works theEgyptian came close to the children, and said, suddenly and softly--

'Trust me. '

'I wish we could, ' said Anthea. 

'You feel, ' said the Egyptian, 'that I want your Amulet. That makes youdistrust me. '

'Yes, ' said Cyril bluntly. 

'But you also, you want my Amulet, and I am trusting you. '

'There's something in that, ' said Robert. 

'We have the two halves of the Amulet, ' said the Priest, 'but not yetthe pin that joined them. Our only chance of getting that is to remaintogether. Once part these two halves and they may never be found in thesame time and place. Be wise. Our interests are the same. '

Before anyone could say more the skipper came back, and with him thedye-master. His hair and beard were curled like the men's in Babylon, and he was dressed like the skipper, but with added grandeur of goldand embroidery. He had necklaces of beads and silver, and a glass amuletwith a man's face, very like his own, set between two bull's heads, aswell as gold and silver bracelets and armlets. He looked keenly at thechildren. Then he said--

'My brother Pheles has just come back from Tarshish. He's at his gardenhouse--unless he's hunting wild boar in the marshes. He gets frightfullybored on shore. '

'Ah, ' said the skipper, 'he's a true-born Phoenician. "Tyre, Tyre forever! Oh, Tyre rules the waves!" as the old song says. I'll go at once, and show him my young barbarians. '

'I should, ' said the dye-master. 'They are very rum, aren't they? Whatfrightful clothes, and what a lot of them! Observe the covering of theirfeet. Hideous indeed. '

Robert could not help thinking how easy, and at the same time pleasant, it would be to catch hold of the dye-master's feet and tip him backwardinto the great sunken vat just near him. But if he had, flight wouldhave had to be the next move, so he restrained his impulse. 

There was something about this Tyrian adventure that was different fromall the others. It was, somehow, calmer. And there was the undoubtedfact that the charm was there on the neck of the Egyptian. 

So they enjoyed everything to the full, the row from the Island City tothe shore, the ride on the donkeys that the skipper hired at the gate ofthe mainland city, and the pleasant country--palms and figs and cedarsall about. It was like a garden--clematis, honeysuckle, and jasmineclung about the olive and mulberry trees, and there were tulips andgladiolus, and clumps of mandrake, which has bell-flowers that look asthough they were cut out of dark blue jewels. In the distance were themountains of Lebanon. The house they came to at last was rather likea bungalow--long and low, with pillars all along the front. Cedars andsycamores grew near it and sheltered it pleasantly. 

Everyone dismounted, and the donkeys were led away. 

'Why is this like Rosherville?' whispered Robert, and instantly suppliedthe answer. 

'Because it's the place to spend a happy day. '

'It's jolly decent of the skipper to have brought us to such a rippingplace, ' said Cyril. 

'Do you know, ' said Anthea, 'this feels more real than anything elsewe've seen? It's like a holiday in the country at home. '

The children were left alone in a large hall. The floor was mosaic, donewith wonderful pictures of ships and sea-beasts and fishes. Through anopen doorway they could see a pleasant courtyard with flowers. 

'I should like to spend a week here, ' said Jane, 'and donkey ride everyday. '

Everyone was feeling very jolly. Even the Egyptian looked pleasanterthan usual. And then, quite suddenly, the skipper came back with ajoyous smile. With him came the master of the house. He looked steadilyat the children and nodded twice. 

'Yes, ' he said, 'my steward will pay you the price. But I shall not payat that high rate for the Egyptian dog. '

The two passed on. 

'This, ' said the Egyptian, 'is a pretty kettle of fish. '

'What is?' asked all the children at once. 

'Our present position, ' said Rekh-mara. 'Our seafaring friend, ' headded, 'has sold us all for slaves!'

A hasty council succeeded the shock of this announcement. The Priest wasallowed to take part in it. His advice was 'stay', because they were inno danger, and the Amulet in its completeness must be somewhere near, or, of course, they could not have come to that place at all. And aftersome discussion they agreed to this. 

The children were treated more as guests than as slaves, but theEgyptian was sent to the kitchen and made to work. 

Pheles, the master of the house, went off that very evening, by theKing's orders, to start on another voyage. And when he was gone his wifefound the children amusing company, and kept them talking and singingand dancing till quite late. 'To distract my mind from my sorrows, ' shesaid. 

'I do like being a slave, ' remarked Jane cheerfully, as they curled upon the big, soft cushions that were to be their beds. 

It was black night when they were awakened, each by a hand passed softlyover its face, and a low voice that whispered--

'Be quiet, or all is lost. '

So they were quiet. 

'It's me, Rekh-mara, the Priest of Amen, ' said the whisperer. 'The manwho brought us has gone to sea again, and he has taken my Amulet from meby force, and I know no magic to get it back. Is there magic for that inthe Amulet you bear?'

Everyone was instantly awake by now. 

'We can go after him, ' said Cyril, leaping up; 'but he might take OURSas well; or he might be angry with us for following him. '

'I'll see to THAT, ' said the Egyptian in the dark. 'Hide your Amuletwell. '

There in the deep blackness of that room in the Tyrian country house theAmulet was once more held up and the word spoken. 

All passed through on to a ship that tossed and tumbled on a wind-blownsea. They crouched together there till morning, and Jane and Cyril werenot at all well. When the dawn showed, dove-coloured, across the steelywaves, they stood up as well as they could for the tumbling of the ship. Pheles, that hardy sailor and adventurer, turned quite pale when heturned round suddenly and saw them. 

'Well!' he said, 'well, I never did!'

'Master, ' said the Egyptian, bowing low, and that was even moredifficult than standing up, 'we are here by the magic of the sacredAmulet that hangs round your neck. '

'I never did!' repeated Pheles. 'Well, well!'

'What port is the ship bound for?' asked Robert, with a nautical air. 

But Pheles said, 'Are you a navigator?' Robert had to own that he wasnot. 

'Then, ' said Pheles, 'I don't mind telling you that we're bound for theTin Isles. Tyre alone knows where the Tin Isles are. It is a splendidsecret we keep from all the world. It is as great a thing to us as yourmagic to you. '

He spoke in quite a new voice, and seemed to respect both the childrenand the Amulet a good deal more than he had done before. 

'The King sent you, didn't he?' said Jane. 

'Yes, ' answered Pheles, 'he bade me set sail with half a score bravegentlemen and this crew. You shall go with us, and see many wonders. ' Hebowed and left them. 

'What are we going to do now?' said Robert, when Pheles had caused themto be left along with a breakfast of dried fruits and a sort of hardbiscuit. 

'Wait till he lands in the Tin Isles, ' said Rekh-mara, 'then we canget the barbarians to help us. We will attack him by night and tear thesacred Amulet from his accursed heathen neck, ' he added, grinding histeeth. 

'When shall we get to the Tin Isles?' asked Jane. 

'Oh--six months, perhaps, or a year, ' said the Egyptian cheerfully. 

'A year of THIS?' cried Jane, and Cyril, who was still feeling far toounwell to care about breakfast, hugged himself miserably and shuddered. It was Robert who said--

'Look here, we can shorten that year. Jane, out with the Amulet! Wishthat we were where the Amulet will be when the ship is twenty miles fromthe Tin Island. That'll give us time to mature our plans. '

It was done--the work of a moment--and there they were on the same ship, between grey northern sky and grey northern sea. The sun was settingin a pale yellow line. It was the same ship, but it was changed, andso were the crew. Weather-worn and dirty were the sailors, and theirclothes torn and ragged. And the children saw that, of course, thoughthey had skipped the nine months, the ship had had to live through them. Pheles looked thinner, and his face was rugged and anxious. 

'Ha!' he cried, 'the charm has brought you back! I have prayed to itdaily these nine months--and now you are here? Have you no magic thatcan help?'

'What is your need?' asked the Egyptian quietly. 

'I need a great wave that shall whelm away the foreign ship that followsus. A month ago it lay in wait for us, by the pillars of the gods, andit follows, follows, to find out the secret of Tyre--the place of theTin Islands. If I could steer by night I could escape them yet, buttonight there will be no stars. '

'My magic will not serve you here, ' said the Egyptian. 

But Robert said, 'My magic will not bring up great waves, but I can showyou how to steer without stars. '

He took out the shilling compass, still, fortunately, in working order, that he had bought off another boy at school for fivepence, a piece ofindiarubber, a strip of whalebone, and half a stick of red sealing-wax. 

And he showed Pheles how it worked. And Pheles wondered at the compass'smagic truth. 

'I will give it to you, ' Robert said, 'in return for that charm aboutyour neck. '

Pheles made no answer. He first laughed, snatched the compass fromRobert's hand, and turned away still laughing. 

'Be comforted, ' the Priest whispered, 'our time will come. '

The dusk deepened, and Pheles, crouched beside a dim lantern, steered bythe shilling compass from the Crystal Palace. 

No one ever knew how the other ship sailed, but suddenly, in the deepnight, the look-out man at the stern cried out in a terrible voice--

'She is close upon us!'

'And we, ' said Pheles, 'are close to the harbour. ' He was silent amoment, then suddenly he altered the ship's course, and then he stood upand spoke. 

'Good friends and gentlemen, ' he said, 'who are bound with me in thisbrave venture by our King's command, the false, foreign ship is closeon our heels. If we land, they land, and only the gods know whether theymight not beat us in fight, and themselves survive to carry back thetale of Tyre's secret island to enrich their own miserable land. Shallthis be?'

'Never!' cried the half-dozen men near him. The slaves were rowing hardbelow and could not hear his words. 

The Egyptian leaped upon him; suddenly, fiercely, as a wild beast leaps. 'Give me back my Amulet, ' he cried, and caught at the charm. The chainthat held it snapped, and it lay in the Priest's hand. 

Pheles laughed, standing balanced to the leap of the ship that answeredthe oarstroke. 

'This is no time for charms and mummeries, ' he said. 'We've lived likemen, and we'll die like gentlemen for the honour and glory of Tyre, oursplendid city. "Tyre, Tyre for ever! It's Tyre that rules the waves. " Isteer her straight for the Dragon rocks, and we go down for our city, as brave men should. The creeping cowards who follow shall go down asslaves--and slaves they shall be to us--when we live again. Tyre, Tyrefor ever!'

A great shout went up, and the slaves below joined in it. 

'Quick, the Amulet, ' cried Anthea, and held it up. Rekh-mara held up theone he had snatched from Pheles. The word was spoken, and the two greatarches grew on the plunging ship in the shrieking wind under the darksky. From each Amulet a great and beautiful green light streamed andshone far out over the waves. It illuminated, too, the black faces andjagged teeth of the great rocks that lay not two ships' lengths from theboat's peaked nose. 

'Tyre, Tyre for ever! It's Tyre that rules the waves!' the voices of thedoomed rose in a triumphant shout. The children scrambled through thearch, and stood trembling and blinking in the Fitzroy Street parlour, and in their ears still sounded the whistle of the wind, and the rattleof the oars, the crash of the ships bow on the rocks, and the last shoutof the brave gentlemen-adventurers who went to their deaths singing, forthe sake of the city they loved. 

'And so we've lost the other half of the Amulet again, ' said Anthea, when they had told the Psammead all about it. 

'Nonsense, pooh!' said the Psammead. 'That wasn't the other half. It wasthe same half that you've got--the one that wasn't crushed and lost. '

'But how could it be the same?' said Anthea gently. 

'Well, not exactly, of course. The one you've got is a good many yearsolder, but at any rate it's not the other one. What did you say when youwished?'

'I forget, ' said Jane. 

'I don't, ' said the Psammead. 'You said, "Take us where YOU are"--and itdid, so you see it was the same half. '

'I see, ' said Anthea. 

'But you mark my words, ' the Psammead went on, 'you'll have trouble withthat Priest yet. '

'Why, he was quite friendly, ' said Anthea. 

'All the same you'd better beware of the Reverend Rekh-mara. '

'Oh, I'm sick of the Amulet, ' said Cyril, 'we shall never get it. '

'Oh yes we shall, ' said Robert. 'Don't you remember December 3rd?'

'Jinks!' said Cyril, 'I'd forgotten that. '

'I don't believe it, ' said Jane, 'and I don't feel at all well. '

'If I were you, ' said the Psammead, 'I should not go out into the Pastagain till that date. You'll find it safer not to go where you're likelyto meet that Egyptian any more just at present. '

'Of course we'll do as you say, ' said Anthea soothingly, 'though there'ssomething about his face that I really do like. '

'Still, you don't want to run after him, I suppose, ' snapped thePsammead. 'You wait till the 3rd, and then see what happens. '

Cyril and Jane were feeling far from well, Anthea was always obliging, so Robert was overruled. And they promised. And none of them, not eventhe Psammead, at all foresaw, as you no doubt do quite plainly, exactlywhat it was that WOULD happen on that memorable date. 

CHAPTER 14. THE HEART'S DESIRE

If I only had time I could tell you lots of things. For instance, how, in spite of the advice of the Psammead, the four children did, one verywet day, go through their Amulet Arch into the golden desert, and therefind the great Temple of Baalbec and meet with the Phoenix whom theynever thought to see again. And how the Phoenix did not remember them atall until it went into a sort of prophetic trance--if that can be calledremembering. But, alas! I HAVEN'T time, so I must leave all that outthough it was a wonderfully thrilling adventure. I must leave out, too, all about the visit of the children to the Hippodrome with the Psammeadin its travelling bag, and about how the wishes of the people roundabout them were granted so suddenly and surprisingly that at last thePsammead had to be taken hurriedly home by Anthea, who consequentlymissed half the performance. Then there was the time when, Nurse havinggone to tea with a friend out Ivalunk way, they were playing 'devil inthe dark'--and in the midst of that most creepy pastime the postman'sknock frightened Jane nearly out of her life. She took in the letters, however, and put them in the back of the hat-stand drawer, so that theyshould be safe. And safe they were, for she never thought of them againfor weeks and weeks. 

One really good thing happened when they took the Psammead to amagic-lantern show and lecture at the boys' school at Camden Town. Thelecture was all about our soldiers in South Africa. And the lecturerended up by saying, 'And I hope every boy in this room has in his heartthe seeds of courage and heroism and self-sacrifice, and I wish thatevery one of you may grow up to be noble and brave and unselfish, worthycitizens of this great Empire for whom our soldiers have freely giventheir lives. '

And, of course, this came true--which was a distinct score for CamdenTown. 

As Anthea said, it was unlucky that the lecturer said boys, because nowshe and Jane would have to be noble and unselfish, if at all, withoutany outside help. But Jane said, 'I daresay we are already because ofour beautiful natures. It's only boys that have to be made brave bymagic'--which nearly led to a first-class row. 

And I daresay you would like to know all about the affair of the fishingrod, and the fish-hooks, and the cook next door--which was amusing fromsome points of view, though not perhaps the cook's--but there really isno time even for that. 

The only thing that there's time to tell about is the Adventure ofMaskelyne and Cooke's, and the Unexpected Apparition--which is also thebeginning of the end. 

It was Nurse who broke into the gloomy music of the autumn rain on thewindow panes by suggesting a visit to the Egyptian Hall, England's Homeof Mystery. Though they had good, but private reasons to know that theirown particular personal mystery was of a very different brand, thefour all brightened at the idea. All children, as well as a good manygrown-ups, love conjuring. 

'It's in Piccadilly, ' said old Nurse, carefully counting out the propernumber of shillings into Cyril's hand, 'not so very far down on the leftfrom the Circus. There's big pillars outside, something like Carter'sseed place in Holborn, as used to be Day and Martin's blacking when Iwas a gell. And something like Euston Station, only not so big. '

'Yes, I know, ' said everybody. 

So they started. 

But though they walked along the left-hand side of Piccadilly they sawno pillared building that was at all like Carter's seed warehouse orEuston Station or England's Home of Mystery as they remembered it. 

At last they stopped a hurried lady, and asked her the way to Maskelyneand Cooke's. 

'I don't know, I'm sure, ' she said, pushing past them. 'I always shopat the Stores. ' Which just shows, as Jane said, how ignorant grown-uppeople are. 

It was a policeman who at last explained to them that England'sMysteries are now appropriately enough enacted at St George's Hall. 

So they tramped to Langham Place, and missed the first two items inthe programme. But they were in time for the most wonderful magicappearances and disappearances, which they could hardly believe--evenwith all their knowledge of a larger magic--was not really magic afterall. 

'If only the Babylonians could have seen THIS conjuring, ' whisperedCyril. 'It takes the shine out of their old conjurer, doesn't it?'

'Hush!' said Anthea and several other members of the audience. 

Now there was a vacant seat next to Robert. And it was when all eyeswere fixed on the stage where Mr Devant was pouring out glasses of allsorts of different things to drink, out of one kettle with one spout, and the audience were delightedly tasting them, that Robert felt someonein that vacant seat. He did not feel someone sit down in it. It was justthat one moment there was no one sitting there, and the next moment, suddenly, there was someone. 

Robert turned. The someone who had suddenly filled that empty place wasRekh-mara, the Priest of Amen!

Though the eyes of the audience were fixed on Mr David Devant, Mr DavidDevant's eyes were fixed on the audience. And it happened that his eyeswere more particularly fixed on that empty chair. So that he saw quiteplainly the sudden appearance, from nowhere, of the Egyptian Priest. 

'A jolly good trick, ' he said to himself, 'and worked under my own eyes, in my own hall. I'll find out how that's done. ' He had never seen atrick that he could not do himself if he tried. 

By this time a good many eyes in the audience had turned on theclean-shaven, curiously-dressed figure of the Egyptian Priest. 

'Ladies and gentlemen, ' said Mr Devant, rising to the occasion, 'thisis a trick I have never before performed. The empty seat, third fromthe end, second row, gallery--you will now find occupied by an AncientEgyptian, warranted genuine. '

He little knew how true his words were. 

And now all eyes were turned on the Priest and the children, and thewhole audience, after a moment's breathless surprise, shouted applause. Only the lady on the other side of Rekh-mara drew back a little. SheKNEW no one had passed her, and, as she said later, over tea and coldtongue, 'it was that sudden it made her flesh creep. '

Rekh-mara seemed very much annoyed at the notice he was exciting. 

'Come out of this crowd, ' he whispered to Robert. 'I must talk with youapart. '

'Oh, no, ' Jane whispered. 'I did so want to see the Mascot Moth, and theVentriloquist. '

'How did you get here?' was Robert's return whisper. 

'How did you get to Egypt and to Tyre?' retorted Rekh-mara. 'Come, letus leave this crowd. '

'There's no help for it, I suppose, ' Robert shrugged angrily. But theyall got up. 

'Confederates!' said a man in the row behind. 'Now they go round to theback and take part in the next scene. '

'I wish we did, ' said Robert. 

'Confederate yourself!' said Cyril. And so they got away, the audienceapplauding to the last. 

In the vestibule of St George's Hall they disguised Rekh-mara as well asthey could, but even with Robert's hat and Cyril's Inverness cape he wastoo striking a figure for foot-exercise in the London streets. It had tobe a cab, and it took the last, least money of all of them. They stoppedthe cab a few doors from home, and then the girls went in and engagedold Nurse's attention by an account of the conjuring and a fervententreaty for dripping-toast with their tea, leaving the front door openso that while Nurse was talking to them the boys could creep quietlyin with Rekh-mara and smuggle him, unseen, up the stairs into theirbedroom. 

When the girls came up they found the Egyptian Priest sitting on theside of Cyril's bed, his hands on his knees, looking like a statue of aking. 

'Come on, ' said Cyril impatiently. 'He won't begin till we're all here. And shut the door, can't you?'

When the door was shut the Egyptian said--

'My interests and yours are one. '

'Very interesting, ' said Cyril, 'and it'll be a jolly sight moreinteresting if you keep following us about in a decent country with nomore clothes on than THAT!'

'Peace, ' said the Priest. 'What is this country? and what is this time?'

'The country's England, ' said Anthea, 'and the time's about 6, 000 yearslater than YOUR time. '

'The Amulet, then, ' said the Priest, deeply thoughtful, 'gives the powerto move to and fro in time as well as in space?'

'That's about it, ' said Cyril gruffly. 'Look here, it'll be tea-timedirectly. What are we to do with you?'

'You have one-half of the Amulet, I the other, ' said Rekh-mara. 'Allthat is now needed is the pin to join them. '

'Don't you think it, ' said Robert. 'The half you've got is the same halfas the one we've got. '

'But the same thing cannot be in the same place and the same time, andyet be not one, but twain, ' said the Priest. 'See, here is my half. ' Helaid it on the Marcella counterpane. 'Where is yours?'

Jane watching the eyes of the others, unfastened the string of theAmulet and laid it on the bed, but too far off for the Priest to seizeit, even if he had been so dishonourable. Cyril and Robert stood besidehim, ready to spring on him if one of his hands had moved but ever solittle towards the magic treasure that was theirs. But his hands did notmove, only his eyes opened very wide, and so did everyone else's forthe Amulet the Priest had now quivered and shook; and then, as steel isdrawn to the magnet, it was drawn across the white counterpane, nearerand nearer to the Amulet, warm from the neck of Jane. And then, as onedrop of water mingles with another on a rain-wrinkled window-pane, asone bead of quick-silver is drawn into another bead, Rekh-mara's Amuletslipped into the other one, and, behold! there was no more but the oneAmulet!

'Black magic!' cried Rekh-mara, and sprang forward to snatch the Amuletthat had swallowed his. But Anthea caught it up, and at the same momentthe Priest was jerked back by a rope thrown over his head. It drew, tightened with the pull of his forward leap, and bound his elbows to hissides. Before he had time to use his strength to free himself, Roberthad knotted the cord behind him and tied it to the bedpost. Then thefour children, overcoming the priest's wrigglings and kickings, tied hislegs with more rope. 

'I thought, ' said Robert, breathing hard, and drawing the last knottight, 'he'd have a try for OURS, so I got the ropes out of thebox-room, so as to be ready. '

The girls, with rather white faces, applauded his foresight. 

'Loosen these bonds!' cried Rekh-mara in fury, 'before I blast you withthe seven secret curses of Amen-Ra!'

'We shouldn't be likely to loose them AFTER, ' Robert retorted. 

'Oh, don't quarrel!' said Anthea desperately. 'Look here, he has just asmuch right to the thing as we have. This, ' she took up the Amulet thathad swallowed the other one, 'this has got his in it as well as beingours. Let's go shares. '

'Let me go!' cried the Priest, writhing. 

'Now, look here, ' said Robert, 'if you make a row we can just open thatwindow and call the police--the guards, you know--and tell them you'vebeen trying to rob us. NOW will you shut up and listen to reason?'

'I suppose so, ' said Rekh-mara sulkily. 

But reason could not be spoken to him till a whispered counsel had beenheld in the far corner by the washhand-stand and the towel-horse, acounsel rather long and very earnest. 

At last Anthea detached herself from the group, and went back to thePriest. 

'Look here, ' she said in her kind little voice, 'we want to be friends. We want to help you. Let's make a treaty. Let's join together to get theAmulet--the whole one, I mean. And then it shall belong to you as muchas to us, and we shall all get our hearts' desire. '

'Fair words, ' said the Priest, 'grow no onions. '

'WE say, "Butter no parsnips", ' Jane put in. 'But don't you see we WANTto be fair? Only we want to bind you in the chains of honour and uprightdealing. '

'Will you deal fairly by us?' said Robert. 

'I will, ' said the Priest. 'By the sacred, secret name that is writtenunder the Altar of Amen-Ra, I will deal fairly by you. Will you, too, take the oath of honourable partnership?'

'No, ' said Anthea, on the instant, and added rather rashly. 'We don'tswear in England, except in police courts, where the guards are, you know, and you don't want to go there. But when we SAY we'll do athing--it's the same as an oath to us--we do it. You trust us, and we'lltrust you. ' She began to unbind his legs, and the boys hastened to untiehis arms. 

When he was free he stood up, stretched his arms, and laughed. 

'Now, ' he said, 'I am stronger than you and my oath is void. I havesworn by nothing, and my oath is nothing likewise. For there IS nosecret, sacred name under the altar of Amen-Ra. '

'Oh, yes there is!' said a voice from under the bed. Everyonestarted--Rekh-mara most of all. 

Cyril stooped and pulled out the bath of sand where the Psammead slept. 'You don't know everything, though you ARE a Divine Father of the Templeof Amen, ' said the Psammead shaking itself till the sand fell tinklingon the bath edge. 'There IS a secret, sacred name beneath the altar ofAmen-Ra. Shall I call on that name?'

'No, no!' cried the Priest in terror. 

'No, ' said Jane, too. 'Don't let's have any calling names. '

'Besides, ' said Rekh-mara, who had turned very white indeed under hisnatural brownness, 'I was only going to say that though there isn't anyname under--'

'There IS, ' said the Psammead threateningly. 

'Well, even if there WASN'T, I will be bound by the wordless oathof your strangely upright land, and having said that I will be yourfriend--I will be it. '

'Then that's all right, ' said the Psammead; 'and there's the tea-bell. What are you going to do with your distinguished partner? He can't godown to tea like that, you know. '

'You see we can't do anything till the 3rd of December, ' said Anthea, 'that's when we are to find the whole charm. What can we do withRekh-mara till then?'

'Box-room, ' said Cyril briefly, 'and smuggle up his meals. It will berather fun. '

'Like a fleeing Cavalier concealed from exasperated Roundheads, ' saidRobert. 'Yes. '

So Rekh-mara was taken up to the box-room and made as comfortable aspossible in a snug nook between an old nursery fender and the wreck ofa big four-poster. They gave him a big rag-bag to sit on, and an old, moth-eaten fur coat off the nail on the door to keep him warm. And whenthey had had their own tea they took him some. He did not like the teaat all, but he liked the bread and butter, and cake that went with it. They took it in turns to sit with him during the evening, and left himfairly happy and quite settled for the night. 

But when they went up in the morning with a kipper, a quarter of whicheach of them had gone without at breakfast, Rekh-mara was gone! Therewas the cosy corner with the rag-bag, and the moth-eaten fur coat--butthe cosy corner was empty. 

'Good riddance!' was naturally the first delightful thought in eachmind. The second was less pleasing, because everyone at once rememberedthat since his Amulet had been swallowed up by theirs--which hungonce more round the neck of Jane--he could have no possible means ofreturning to his Egyptian past. Therefore he must be still in England, and probably somewhere quite near them, plotting mischief. 

The attic was searched, to prevent mistakes, but quite vainly. 

'The best thing we can do, ' said Cyril, 'is to go through the halfAmulet straight away, get the whole Amulet, and come back. '

'I don't know, ' Anthea hesitated. 'Would that be quite fair? Perhaps heisn't really a base deceiver. Perhaps something's happened to him. '

'Happened?' said Cyril, 'not it! Besides, what COULD happen?'

'I don't know, ' said Anthea. 'Perhaps burglars came in the night, andaccidentally killed him, and took away the--all that was mortal of him, you know--to avoid discovery. '

'Or perhaps, ' said Cyril, 'they hid the--all that was mortal, in one ofthose big trunks in the box-room. SHALL WE GO BACK AND LOOK?' he addedgrimly. 

'No, no!' Jane shuddered. 'Let's go and tell the Psammead and see whatit says. '

'No, ' said Anthea, 'let's ask the learned gentleman. If anything hashappened to Rekh-mara a gentleman's advice would be more useful than aPsammead's. And the learned gentleman'll only think it's a dream, likehe always does. '

They tapped at the door, and on the 'Come in' entered. The learnedgentleman was sitting in front of his untasted breakfast. 

Opposite him, in the easy chair, sat Rekh-mara!

'Hush!' said the learned gentleman very earnestly, 'please, hush! or thedream will go. I am learning. . . Oh, what have I not learned in the lasthour!'

'In the grey dawn, ' said the Priest, 'I left my hiding-place, andfinding myself among these treasures from my own country, I remained. Ifeel more at home here somehow. '

'Of course I know it's a dream, ' said the learned gentleman feverishly, 'but, oh, ye gods! what a dream! By jove!. . . '

'Call not upon the gods, ' said the Priest, 'lest ye raise greater onesthan ye can control. Already, ' he explained to the children, 'he and Iare as brothers, and his welfare is dear to me as my own. '

'He has told me, ' the learned gentleman began, but Robert interrupted. This was no moment for manners. 

'Have you told him, ' he asked the Priest, 'all about the Amulet?'

'No, ' said Rekh-mara. 

'Then tell him now. He is very learned. Perhaps he can tell us what todo. '

Rekh-mara hesitated, then told--and, oddly enough, none of the childrenever could remember afterwards what it was that he did tell. Perhaps heused some magic to prevent their remembering. 

When he had done the learned gentleman was silent, leaning his elbow onthe table and his head on his hand. 

'Dear Jimmy, ' said Anthea gently, 'don't worry about it. We are sure tofind it today, somehow. '

'Yes, ' said Rekh-mara, 'and perhaps, with it, Death. '

'It's to bring us our hearts' desire, ' said Robert. 

'Who knows, ' said the Priest, 'what things undreamed-of and infinitelydesirable lie beyond the dark gates?'

'Oh, DON'T, ' said Jane, almost whimpering. 

The learned gentleman raised his head suddenly. 

'Why not, ' he suggested, 'go back into the Past? At a moment when theAmulet is unwatched. Wish to be with it, and that it shall be under yourhand. '

It was the simplest thing in the world! And yet none of them had everthought of it. 

'Come, ' cried Rekh-mara, leaping up. 'Come NOW!'

'May--may I come?' the learned gentleman timidly asked. 'It's only adream, you know. '

'Come, and welcome, oh brother, ' Rekh-mara was beginning, but Cyril andRobert with one voice cried, 'NO. '

'You weren't with us in Atlantis, ' Robert added, 'or you'd know betterthan to let him come. '

'Dear Jimmy, ' said Anthea, 'please don't ask to come. We'll go and beback again before you have time to know that we're gone. '

'And he, too?'

'We must keep together, ' said Rekh-mara, 'since there is but one perfectAmulet to which I and these children have equal claims. '

Jane held up the Amulet--Rekh-mara went first--and they all passedthrough the great arch into which the Amulet grew at the Name of Power. 

The learned gentleman saw through the arch a darkness lighted by smokygleams. He rubbed his eyes. And he only rubbed them for ten seconds. 

The children and the Priest were in a small, dark chamber. A squaredoorway of massive stone let in gleams of shifting light, and the soundof many voices chanting a slow, strange hymn. They stood listening. Nowand then the chant quickened and the light grew brighter, as though fuelhad been thrown on a fire. 

'Where are we?' whispered Anthea. 

'And when?' whispered Robert. 

'This is some shrine near the beginnings of belief, ' said the Egyptianshivering. 'Take the Amulet and come away. It is cold here in themorning of the world. '

And then Jane felt that her hand was on a slab or table of stone, and, under her hand, something that felt like the charm that had so long hunground her neck, only it was thicker. Twice as thick. 

'It's HERE!' she said, 'I've got it!' And she hardly knew the sound ofher own voice. 

'Come away, ' repeated Rekh-mara. 

'I wish we could see more of this Temple, ' said Robert resistingly. 

'Come away, ' the Priest urged, 'there is death all about, and strongmagic. Listen. '

The chanting voices seemed to have grown louder and fiercer, and lightstronger. 

'They are coming!' cried Rekh-mara. 'Quick, quick, the Amulet!'

Jane held it up. 

'What a long time you've been rubbing your eyes!' said Anthea; 'don'tyou see we've got back?' The learned gentleman merely stared at her. 

'Miss Anthea--Miss Jane!' It was Nurse's voice, very much higher andsqueaky and more exalted than usual. 

'Oh, bother!' said everyone. Cyril adding, 'You just go on with thedream for a sec, Mr Jimmy, we'll be back directly. Nurse'll come up ifwe don't. SHE wouldn't think Rekh-mara was a dream. '

Then they went down. Nurse was in the hall, an orange envelope in onehand, and a pink paper in the other. 

'Your Pa and Ma's come home. "Reach London 11. 15. Prepare rooms asdirected in letter", and signed in their two names. '

'Oh, hooray! hooray! hooray!' shouted the boys and Jane. But Antheacould not shout, she was nearer crying. 

'Oh, ' she said almost in a whisper, 'then it WAS true. And we HAVE gotour hearts' desire. '

'But I don't understand about the letter, ' Nurse was saying. 'I haven'tHAD no letter. '

'OH!' said Jane in a queer voice, 'I wonder whether it was one ofthose. . . They came that night--you know, when we were playing "devilin the dark"--and I put them in the hat-stand drawer, behind theclothes-brushes and'--she pulled out the drawer as she spoke--'and herethey are!'

There was a letter for Nurse and one for the children. The letters toldhow Father had done being a war-correspondent and was coming home; andhow Mother and The Lamb were going to meet him in Italy and all comehome together; and how The Lamb and Mother were quite well; and howa telegram would be sent to tell the day and the hour of theirhome-coming. 

'Mercy me!' said old Nurse. 'I declare if it's not too bad of You, MissJane. I shall have a nice to-do getting things straight for your Pa andMa. '

'Oh, never mind, Nurse, ' said Jane, hugging her; 'isn't it just toolovely for anything!'

'We'll come and help you, ' said Cyril. 'There's just something upstairswe've got to settle up, and then we'll all come and help you. '

'Get along with you, ' said old Nurse, but she laughed jollily. 'Nicehelp YOU'D be. I know you. And it's ten o'clock now. '

There was, in fact, something upstairs that they had to settle. Quite aconsiderable something, too. And it took much longer than they expected. 

A hasty rush into the boys' room secured the Psammead, very sandy andvery cross. 

'It doesn't matter how cross and sandy it is though, ' said Anthea, 'itought to be there at the final council. '

'It'll give the learned gentleman fits, I expect, ' said Robert, 'when hesees it. '

But it didn't. 

'The dream is growing more and more wonderful, ' he exclaimed, when thePsammead had been explained to him by Rekh-mara. 'I have dreamed thisbeast before. '

'Now, ' said Robert, 'Jane has got the half Amulet and I've got thewhole. Show up, Jane. '

Jane untied the string and laid her half Amulet on the table, litteredwith dusty papers, and the clay cylinders marked all over with littlemarks like the little prints of birds' little feet. Robert laid down thewhole Amulet, and Anthea gently restrained the eager hand of the learnedgentleman as it reached out yearningly towards the 'perfect specimen'. 

And then, just as before on the Marcella quilt, so now on the dustylitter of papers and curiosities, the half Amulet quivered and shook, and then, as steel is drawn to a magnet, it was drawn across the dustymanuscripts, nearer and nearer to the perfect Amulet, warm from thepocket of Robert. And then, as one drop of water mingles with anotherwhen the panes of the window are wrinkled with rain, as one bead ofmercury is drawn into another bead, the half Amulet, that was thechildren's and was also Rekh-mara's, --slipped into the whole Amulet, and, behold! there was only one--the perfect and ultimate Charm. 

'And THAT'S all right, ' said the Psammead, breaking a breathlesssilence. 

'Yes, ' said Anthea, 'and we've got our hearts' desire. Father and Motherand The Lamb are coming home today. '

'But what about me?' said Rekh-mara. 

'What IS your heart's desire?' Anthea asked. 

'Great and deep learning, ' said the Priest, without a moment'shesitation. 'A learning greater and deeper than that of any man of myland and my time. But learning too great is useless. If I go back to myown land and my own age, who will believe my tales of what I have seenin the future? Let me stay here, be the great knower of all that hasbeen, in that our time, so living to me, so old to you, about which yourlearned men speculate unceasingly, and often, HE tells me, vainly. '

'If I were you, ' said the Psammead, 'I should ask the Amulet about that. It's a dangerous thing, trying to live in a time that's not your own. You can't breathe an air that's thousands of centuries ahead of yourlungs without feeling the effects of it, sooner or later. Prepare themystic circle and consult the Amulet. '

'Oh, WHAT a dream!' cried the learned gentleman. 'Dear children, ifyou love me--and I think you do, in dreams and out of them--prepare themystic circle and consult the Amulet!'

They did. As once before, when the sun had shone in August splendour, they crouched in a circle on the floor. Now the air outside was thickand yellow with the fog that by some strange decree always attends theCattle Show week. And in the street costers were shouting. 'Ur HekauSetcheh, ' Jane said the Name of Power. And instantly the light wentout, and all the sounds went out too, so that there was a silence anda darkness, both deeper than any darkness or silence that you have evereven dreamed of imagining. It was like being deaf or blind, only darkerand quieter even than that. 

Then out of that vast darkness and silence came a light and a voice. Thelight was too faint to see anything by, and the voice was too smallfor you to hear what it said. But the light and the voice grew. And thelight was the light that no man may look on and live, and the voice wasthe sweetest and most terrible voice in the world. The children castdown their eyes. And so did everyone. 

'I speak, ' said the voice. 'What is it that you would hear?'

There was a pause. Everyone was afraid to speak. 

'What are we to do about Rekh-mara?' said Robert suddenly and abruptly. 'Shall he go back through the Amulet to his own time, or--'

'No one can pass through the Amulet now, ' said the beautiful, terriblevoice, 'to any land or any time. Only when it was imperfect could suchthings be. But men may pass through the perfect charm to the perfectunion, which is not of time or space. '

'Would you be so very kind, ' said Anthea tremulously, 'as to speak sothat we can understand you? The Psammead said something about Rekh-maranot being able to live here, and if he can't get back--' She stopped, her heart was beating desperately in her throat, as it seemed. 

'Nobody can continue to live in a land and in a time not appointed, 'said the voice of glorious sweetness. 'But a soul may live, if in thatother time and land there be found a soul so akin to it as to offer itrefuge, in the body of that land and time, that thus they two may be onesoul in one body. '

The children exchanged discouraged glances. But the eyes of Rekh-maraand the learned gentleman met, and were kind to each other, and promisedeach other many things, secret and sacred and very beautiful. 

Anthea saw the look. 'Oh, but, ' she said, without at all meaning to sayit, 'dear Jimmy's soul isn't at all like Rekh-mara's. I'm certain itisn't. I don't want to be rude, but it ISN'T, you know. Dear Jimmy'ssoul is as good as gold, and--'

'Nothing that is not good can pass beneath the double arch of my perfectAmulet, ' said the voice. 'If both are willing, say the word of Power, and let the two souls become one for ever and ever more. '

'Shall I?' asked Jane. 

'Yes. '

'Yes. '

The voices were those of the Egyptian Priest and the learned gentleman, and the voices were eager, alive, thrilled with hope and the desire ofgreat things. 

So Jane took the Amulet from Robert and held it up between the two men, and said, for the last time, the word of Power. 

'Ur Hekau Setcheh. '

The perfect Amulet grew into a double arch; the two arches leaned toeach other making a great A. 

'A stands for Amen, ' whispered Jane; 'what he was a priest of. '

'Hush!' breathed Anthea. 

The great double arch glowed in and through the green light that hadbeen there since the Name of Power had first been spoken--it glowedwith a light more bright yet more soft than the other light--a glory andsplendour and sweetness unspeakable. 'Come!' cried Rekh-mara, holdingout his hands. 

'Come!' cried the learned gentleman, and he also held out his hands. 

Each moved forward under the glowing, glorious arch of the perfectAmulet. 

Then Rekh-mara quavered and shook, and as steel is drawn to a magnethe was drawn, under the arch of magic, nearer and nearer to the learnedgentleman. And, as one drop of water mingles with another, when thewindow-glass is rain-wrinkled, as one quick-silver bead is drawn toanother quick-silver bead, Rekh-mara, Divine Father of the Temple ofAmen-Ra, was drawn into, slipped into, disappeared into, and was onewith Jimmy, the good, the beloved, the learned gentleman. 

And suddenly it was good daylight and the December sun shone. The foghas passed away like a dream. 

The Amulet was there--little and complete in jane's hand, and therewere the other children and the Psammead, and the learned gentleman. ButRekh-mara--or the body of Rekh-mara--was not there any more. As for hissoul. . . 

'Oh, the horrid thing!' cried Robert, and put his foot on a centipedeas long as your finger, that crawled and wriggled and squirmed at thelearned gentleman's feet. 

'THAT, ' said the Psammead, 'WAS the evil in the soul of Rekh-mara. '

There was a deep silence. 

'Then Rekh-mara's HIM now?' said Jane at last. 

'All that was good in Rekh-mara, ' said the Psammead. 

'HE ought to have his heart's desire, too, ' said Anthea, in a sort ofstubborn gentleness. 

'HIS heart's desire, ' said the Psammead, 'is the perfect Amulet you holdin your hand. Yes--and has been ever since he first saw the broken halfof it. '

'We've got ours, ' said Anthea softly. 

'Yes, ' said the Psammead--its voice was crosser than they had ever heardit--'your parents are coming home. And what's to become of ME? I shallbe found out, and made a show of, and degraded in every possible way. IKNOW they'll make me go into Parliament--hateful place--all mud and nosand. That beautiful Baalbec temple in the desert! Plenty of good sandthere, and no politics! I wish I were there, safe in the Past--that Ido. '

'I wish you were, ' said the learned gentleman absently, yet polite asever. 

The Psammead swelled itself up, turned its long snail's eyes in onelast lingering look at Anthea--a loving look, she always said, andthought--and--vanished. 

'Well, ' said Anthea, after a silence, 'I suppose it's happy. The onlything it ever did really care for was SAND. '

'My dear children, ' said the learned gentleman, 'I must have fallenasleep. I've had the most extraordinary dream. '

'I hope it was a nice one, ' said Cyril with courtesy. 

'Yes. . . . I feel a new man after it. Absolutely a new man. '

There was a ring at the front-door bell. The opening of a door. Voices. 

'It's THEM!' cried Robert, and a thrill ran through four hearts. 

'Here!' cried Anthea, snatching the Amulet from Jane and pressing itinto the hand of the learned gentleman. 'Here--it's yours--your veryown--a present from us, because you're Rekh-mara as well as. . . I mean, because you're such a dear. '

She hugged him briefly but fervently, and the four swept down the stairsto the hall, where a cabman was bringing in boxes, and where, heavily disguised in travelling cloaks and wraps, was their hearts'desire--three-fold--Mother, Father, and The Lamb. 

'Bless me!' said the learned gentleman, left alone, 'bless me! What atreasure! The dear children! It must be their affection that has givenme these luminous apercus. I seem to see so many things now--things Inever saw before! The dear children! The dear, dear children!'