diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/837.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/837.txt | 9278 |
1 files changed, 9278 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/837.txt b/old/837.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..528d8ad --- /dev/null +++ b/old/837.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9278 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Story of the Amulet, by E. Nesbit + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Story of the Amulet + +Author: E. Nesbit + +Posting Date: August 6, 2008 [EBook #837] +Release Date: March, 1997 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF THE AMULET *** + + + + +Produced by Jo Churcher + + + + + +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 white +house, happily situated between a sandpit and a chalkpit. One day they +had the good fortune to find in the sandpit a strange creature. Its eyes +were on long horns like snail's eyes, and it could move them in and out +like telescopes. It had ears like a bat's ears, and its tubby body was +shaped like a spider's and covered with thick soft fur--and it had hands +and feet like a monkey's. It told the children--whose names were +Cyril, Robert, Anthea, and Jane--that it was a Psammead or sand-fairy. +(Psammead is pronounced Sammy-ad.) It was old, old, old, and its +birthday was almost at the very beginning of everything. And it had +been buried in the sand for thousands of years. But it still kept its +fairylikeness, and part of this fairylikeness was its power to give +people whatever they wished for. You know fairies have always been able +to do this. Cyril, Robert, Anthea, and Jane now found their wishes come +true; but, somehow, they never could think of just the right things to +wish for, and their wishes sometimes turned out very oddly indeed. In +the end their unwise wishings landed them in what Robert called 'a very +tight place indeed', and the Psammead consented to help them out of it +in return for their promise never never to ask it to grant them any more +wishes, and never to tell anyone about it, because it did not want to +be bothered to give wishes to anyone ever any more. At the moment of +parting 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 up +in 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 been +able to find out exactly when and where the children met the Psammead +again. Of course I knew they would meet it, because it was a beast of +its word, and when it said a thing would happen, that thing happened +without fail. How different from the people who tell us about what +weather 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 and +the wishes given had been wonderful holidays in the country, and the +children had the highest hopes of just such another holiday for the next +summer. The winter holidays were beguiled by the wonderful happenings +of The Phoenix and the Carpet, and the loss of these two treasures would +have left the children in despair, but for the splendid hope of their +next holiday in the country. The world, they felt, and indeed had some +reason to feel, was full of wonderful things--and they were really the +sort of people that wonderful things happen to. So they looked forward +to the summer holiday; but when it came everything was different, and +very, very horrid. Father had to go out to Manchuria to telegraph news +about the war to the tiresome paper he wrote for--the Daily Bellower, +or something like that, was its name. And Mother, poor dear Mother, was +away in Madeira, because she had been very ill. And The Lamb--I mean the +baby--was with her. And Aunt Emma, who was Mother's sister, had suddenly +married Uncle Reginald, who was Father's brother, and they had gone to +China, which is much too far off for you to expect to be asked to spend +the holidays in, however fond your aunt and uncle may be of you. So +the children were left in the care of old Nurse, who lived in Fitzroy +Street, near the British Museum, and though she was always very kind to +them, and indeed spoiled them far more than would be good for the most +grown-up of us, the four children felt perfectly wretched, and when +the cab had driven off with Father and all his boxes and guns and the +sheepskin, with blankets and the aluminium mess-kit inside it, the +stoutest heart quailed, and the girls broke down altogether, and sobbed +in each other's arms, while the boys each looked out of one of the long +gloomy windows of the parlour, and tried to pretend that no boy would be +such a muff as to cry. + +I hope you notice that they were not cowardly enough to cry till their +Father had gone; they knew he had quite enough to upset him without +that. But when he was gone everyone felt as if it had been trying not to +cry all its life, and that it must cry now, if it died for it. So they +cried. + +Tea--with shrimps and watercress--cheered them a little. The watercress +was arranged in a hedge round a fat glass salt-cellar, a tasteful device +they 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 when +she saw how dreadfully he wasn't there, and remembered how every minute +was taking him further and further from her, and nearer and nearer to +the guns of the Russians, she cried a little more. Then she thought of +Mother, ill and alone, and perhaps at that very moment wanting a little +girl 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 had +said, the night before she went away, about Anthea being the eldest +girl, and about trying to make the others happy, and things like that. +So she stopped crying, and thought instead. And when she had thought as +long as she could bear she washed her face and combed her hair, and went +down to the others, trying her best to look as though crying were an +exercise she had never even heard of. + +She found the parlour in deepest gloom, hardly relieved at all by +the efforts of Robert, who, to make the time pass, was pulling Jane's +hair--not hard, but just enough to tease. + +'Look here,' said Anthea. 'Let's have a palaver.' This word dated from +the awful day when Cyril had carelessly wished that there were Red +Indians in England--and there had been. The word brought back memories +of last summer holidays and everyone groaned; they thought of the white +house with the beautiful tangled garden--late roses, asters, marigold, +sweet mignonette, and feathery asparagus--of the wilderness which +someone had once meant to make into an orchard, but which was now, +as Father said, 'five acres of thistles haunted by the ghosts of baby +cherry-trees'. They thought of the view across the valley, where the +lime-kilns looked like Aladdin's palaces in the sunshine, and they +thought of their own sandpit, with its fringe of yellowy grasses and +pale-stringy-stalked wild flowers, and the little holes in the cliff +that were the little sand-martins' little front doors. And they thought +of the free fresh air smelling of thyme and sweetbriar, and the scent of +the wood-smoke from the cottages in the lane--and they looked round old +Nurse'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 Father +gave her the children to take care of. And her rooms were furnished 'for +letting'. Now it is a very odd thing that no one ever seems to furnish +a room 'for letting' in a bit the same way as one would furnish it for +living in. This room had heavy dark red stuff curtains--the colour that +blood would not make a stain on--with coarse lace curtains inside. The +carpet was yellow, and violet, with bits of grey and brown oilcloth in +odd places. The fireplace had shavings and tinsel in it. There was +a very varnished mahogany chiffonier, or sideboard, with a lock that +wouldn't act. There were hard chairs--far too many of them--with crochet +antimacassars slipping off their seats, all of which sloped the wrong +way. The table wore a cloth of a cruel green colour with a yellow +chain-stitch pattern round it. Over the fireplace was a looking-glass +that made you look much uglier than you really were, however plain you +might be to begin with. Then there was a mantelboard with maroon plush +and wool fringe that did not match the plush; a dreary clock like a +black marble tomb--it was silent as the grave too, for it had long since +forgotten how to tick. And there were painted glass vases that never had +any flowers in, and a painted tambourine that no one ever played, and +painted 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 of +Plumridge's Commentary on Thessalonians. There were--but I cannot +dwell longer on this painful picture. It was indeed, as Jane said, very +different. + +'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 of +the 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 in +any way, but I want to what Father calls define the situation. Do you +agree?' + +'Fire ahead,' said Cyril without enthusiasm. + +'Well then. We all know the reason we're staying here is because Nurse +couldn't leave her house on account of the poor learned gentleman on the +top-floor. And there was no one else Father could entrust to take care +of us--and you know it's taken a lot of money, Mother's going to Madeira +to be made well.' + +Jane sniffed miserably. + +'Yes, I know,' said Anthea in a hurry, 'but don't let's think about how +horrid it all is. I mean we can't go to things that cost a lot, but we +must do SOMETHING. And I know there are heaps of things you can see in +London without paying for them, and I thought we'd go and see them. We +are 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 thought +we MUST get Nurse to see how quite old we are, and let us go out by +ourselves, or else we shall never have any sort of a time at all. And I +vote we see everything there is, and let's begin by asking Nurse to give +us some bits of bread and we'll go to St James's Park. There are ducks +there, I know, we can feed them. Only we must make Nurse let us go by +ourselves.' + +'Hurrah for liberty!' said Robert, 'but she won't.' + +'Yes she will,' said Jane unexpectedly. '_I_ thought about that this +morning, and I asked Father, and he said yes; and what's more he told +old Nurse we might, only he said we must always say where we wanted to +go, and if it was right she would let us.' + +'Three cheers for thoughtful Jane,' cried Cyril, now roused at last from +his 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 they +were used to crossings, for they had lived in Camden Town and knew the +Kentish Town Road where the trams rush up and down like mad at all hours +of the day and night, and seem as though, if anything, they would rather +run over you than not. + +They had promised to be home by dark, but it was July, so dark would be +very late indeed, and long past bedtime. + +They started to walk to St James's Park, and all their pockets were +stuffed with bits of bread and the crusts of toast, to feed the ducks +with. They started, I repeat, but they never got there. + +Between Fitzroy Street and St James's Park there are a great many +streets, and, if you go the right way you will pass a great many shops +that you cannot possibly help stopping to look at. The children stopped +to look at several with gold-lace and beads and pictures and jewellery +and dresses, and hats, and oysters and lobsters in their windows, and +their sorrow did not seem nearly so impossible to bear as it had done in +the best parlour at No. 300, Fitzroy Street. + +Presently, by some wonderful chance turn of Robert's (who had been voted +Captain because the girls thought it would be good for him--and indeed +he thought so himself--and of course Cyril couldn't vote against him +because it would have looked like a mean jealousy), they came into the +little interesting criss-crossy streets that held the most interesting +shops of all--the shops where live things were sold. There was one shop +window entirely filled with cages, and all sorts of beautiful birds in +them. The children were delighted till they remembered how they had once +wished for wings themselves, and had had them--and then they felt how +desperately unhappy anything with wings must be if it is shut up in a +cage and not allowed to fly. + +'It must be fairly beastly to be a bird in a cage,' said Cyril. 'Come +on!' + +They went on, and Cyril tried to think out a scheme for making his +fortune as a gold-digger at Klondyke, and then buying all the caged +birds in the world and setting them free. Then they came to a shop that +sold cats, but the cats were in cages, and the children could not help +wishing someone would buy all the cats and put them on hearthrugs, which +are the proper places for cats. And there was the dog-shop, and that was +not a happy thing to look at either, because all the dogs were chained +or caged, and all the dogs, big and little, looked at the four children +with sad wistful eyes and wagged beseeching tails as if they were trying +to 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 Irish +terrier, and he growled when Jane patted him. + +'Grrrrr,' he seemed to say, as he looked at them from the back corner +of his eye--'YOU won't buy me. Nobody will--ever--I shall die chained +up--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 once +they had been in a besieged castle, so they knew how hateful it is to be +kept in when you want to get out. + +Of course they could not buy any of the dogs. They did, indeed, ask the +price of the very, very smallest, and it was sixty-five pounds--but that +was because it was a Japanese toy spaniel like the Queen once had her +portrait painted with, when she was only Princess of Wales. But the +children thought, if the smallest was all that money, the biggest would +run into thousands--so they went on. + +And they did not stop at any more cat or dog or bird shops, but passed +them by, and at last they came to a shop that seemed as though it only +sold creatures that did not much mind where they were--such as goldfish +and white mice, and sea-anemones and other aquarium beasts, and +lizards and toads, and hedgehogs and tortoises, and tame rabbits +and guinea-pigs. And there they stopped for a long time, and fed the +guinea-pigs with bits of bread through the cage-bars, and wondered +whether it would be possible to keep a sandy-coloured double-lop in the +basement of the house in Fitzroy Street. + +'I don't suppose old Nurse would mind VERY much,' said Jane. 'Rabbits +are most awfully tame sometimes. I expect it would know her voice and +follow 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 never +could cotton to snakes somehow--I wonder why.' + +'Worms are as bad,' said Anthea, 'and eels and slugs--I think it's +because we don't like things that haven't got legs.' + +'Father says snakes have got legs hidden away inside of them,' said +Robert. + +'Yes--and he says WE'VE got tails hidden away inside us--but it doesn't +either of it come to anything REALLY,' said Anthea. 'I hate things that +haven't any legs.' + +'It's worse when they have too many,' said Jane with a shudder, 'think +of centipedes!' + +They stood there on the pavement, a cause of some inconvenience to +the passersby, and thus beguiled the time with conversation. Cyril was +leaning his elbow on the top of a hutch that had seemed empty when they +had inspected the whole edifice of hutches one by one, and he was trying +to reawaken the interest of a hedgehog that had curled itself into a +ball earlier in the interview, when a small, soft voice just below his +elbow said, quietly, plainly and quite unmistakably--not in any squeak +or 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 from +the hutch. + +'Come back--oh, come back!' said the voice, rather louder but still +softly; 'stoop down and pretend to be tying up your bootlace--I see it's +undone, as usual.' + +Cyril mechanically obeyed. He knelt on one knee on the dry, hot dusty +pavement, peered into the darkness of the hutch and found himself face +to face with--the Psammead! + +It seemed much thinner than when he had last seen it. It was dusty and +dirty, and its fur was untidy and ragged. It had hunched itself up into +a miserable lump, and its long snail's eyes were drawn in quite tight so +that they hardly showed at all. + +'Listen,' said the Psammead, in a voice that sounded as though it would +begin to cry in a minute, 'I don't think the creature who keeps this +shop 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 glance +from my beautiful, beautiful eyes. Tell the others I'm here--but tell +them to look at some of those low, common beasts while I'm talking to +you. The creature inside mustn't think you care much about me, or he'll +put a price upon me far, far beyond your means. I remember in the dear +old days last summer you never had much money. Oh--I never thought I +should be so glad to see you--I never did.' It sniffed, and shot out its +long snail's eyes expressly to drop a tear well away from its fur. 'Tell +the others I'm here, and then I'll tell you exactly what to do about +buying me.' Cyril tied his bootlace into a hard knot, stood up and +addressed the others in firm tones-- + +'Look here,' he said, 'I'm not kidding--and I appeal to your honour,' an +appeal which in this family was never made in vain. 'Don't look at that +hutch--look at the white rat. Now you are not to look at that hutch +whatever I say.' + +He stood in front of it to prevent mistakes. + +'Now get yourselves ready for a great surprise. In that hutch there's +an old friend of ours--DON'T look!--Yes; it's the Psammead, the good old +Psammead! it wants us to buy it. It says you're not to look at it. Look +at 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 quite +stared him out of countenance, so that he went and sat up on his hind +legs in a far corner and hid his eyes with his front paws, and pretended +he was washing his face. + +Cyril stooped again, busying himself with the other bootlace and +listened 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--the +mangy old thing in the third hutch from the end." Oh--don't mind MY +feelings--call me a mangy monkey--I've tried hard enough to look like +one! I don't think he'll put a high price on me--I've bitten him eleven +times since I came here the day before yesterday. If he names a bigger +price 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 wish +from you,' said the bewildered Cyril. + +'Don't be a silly little idiot,' said the Sand-fairy in trembling but +affectionate 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 to +pretend that its charms alone employed his tongue, explained matters to +the others, while the Psammead hunched itself, and bunched itself, +and did its very best to make itself look uninteresting. Then the four +children 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 life +with a sudden ferocity which made the whole party back hurriedly on to +the 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 place +outer winder, an' prizing every animile in the stock just for your +larks, so don't think it! If you're a buyer, BE a buyer--but I never +had a customer yet as wanted to buy mice, and lizards, and toads, and +guineas all at once. So hout you goes.' + +'Oh! wait a minute,' said the wretched Cyril, feeling how foolishly yet +well-meaningly he had carried out the Psammead's instructions. 'Just +tell me one thing. What do you want for the mangy old monkey in the +third hutch from the end?' + +The shopman only saw in this a new insult. + +'Mangy young monkey yourself,' said he; 'get along with your blooming +cheek. Hout you goes!' + +'Oh! don't be so cross,' said Jane, losing her head altogether, 'don't +you see he really DOES want to know THAT!' + +'Ho! does 'e indeed,' sneered the merchant. Then he scratched his ear +suspiciously, for he was a sharp business man, and he knew the ring of +truth when he heard it. His hand was bandaged, and three minutes +before he would have been glad to sell the 'mangy old monkey' for ten +shillings. Now--'Ho! 'e does, does 'e,' he said, 'then two pun ten's my +price. 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 ever +seen 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 fivepence +was all they had in the world, and it would have been merely three and +fivepence, but for the sovereign which Father had given to them 'between +them' 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, for +he 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 wish +you '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's +have the Sammy,... the monkey I mean.' + +The dealer looked hard at the money, but he made haste to put it in his +pocket. + +'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 worth +thribble 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 Psammead +acknowledged in one last long lingering bite. + +'Here, take the brute,' said the shopman, squeezing the Psammead so +tight 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 the +Psammead made a leap from his dirty horny hands, and Anthea caught it +in hers, which were not very clean, certainly, but at any rate were soft +and pink, and held it kindly and closely. + +'But you can't take it home like that,' Cyril said, 'we shall have a +crowd after us,' and indeed two errand boys and a policeman had already +collected. + +'I can't give you nothink only a paper-bag, like what we put the +tortoises in,' said the man grudgingly. + +So the whole party went into the shop, and the shopman's eyes nearly +came out of his head when, having given Anthea the largest paper-bag he +could find, he saw her hold it open, and the Psammead carefully creep +into it. 'Well!' he said, 'if that there don't beat cockfighting! But +p'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 under +twice the money. 'Owever,' he added, as the children disappeared, 'I +ain't done so bad, seeing as I only give five bob for the beast. But +then there's the bites to take into account!' + +The children trembling in agitation and excitement, carried home the +Psammead, trembling in its paper-bag. + +When they got it home, Anthea nursed it, and stroked it, and would have +cried 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 me +plenty.' + +They got the sand, and they put it and the Psammead in the round bath +together, and it rubbed itself, and rolled itself, and shook itself and +scraped itself, and scratched itself, and preened itself, till it felt +clean and comfy, and then it scrabbled a hasty hole in the sand, and +went to sleep in it. + +The children hid the bath under the girls' bed, and had supper. Old +Nurse 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 down +between her shoulder and Jane's. + +'You have saved my life,' it said. 'I know that man would have thrown +cold water on me sooner or later, and then I should have died. I saw him +wash out a guinea-pig's hutch yesterday morning. I'm still frightfully +sleepy, I think I'll go back to sand for another nap. Wake the boys and +this dormouse of a Jane, and when you've had your breakfasts we'll have +a talk.' + +'Don't YOU want any breakfast?' asked Anthea. + +'I daresay I shall pick a bit presently,' it said; 'but sand is all I +care about--it's meat and drink to me, and coals and fire and wife and +children.' With these words it clambered down by the bedclothes and +scrambled back into the bath, where they heard it scratching itself out +of sight. + +'Well!' said Anthea, 'anyhow our holidays won't be dull NOW. We've found +the Psammead again.' + +'No,' said Jane, beginning to put on her stockings. 'We shan't be +dull--but it'll be only like having a pet dog now it can't give us +wishes.' + +'Oh, don't be so discontented,' said Anthea. 'If it can't do anything +else it can tell us about Megatheriums and things.' + + + +CHAPTER 2. THE HALF AMULET + +Long ago--that is to say last summer--the children, finding themselves +embarrassed by some wish which the Psammead had granted them, and which +the servants had not received in a proper spirit, had wished that the +servants might not notice the gifts which the Psammead gave. And when +they parted from the Psammead their last wish had been that they should +meet it again. Therefore they HAD met it (and it was jolly lucky for +the Psammead, as Robert pointed out). Now, of course, you see that +the Psammead's being where it was, was the consequence of one of their +wishes, and therefore was a Psammead-wish, and as such could not be +noticed by the servants. And it was soon plain that in the Psammead's +opinion old Nurse was still a servant, although she had now a house +of her own, for she never noticed the Psammead at all. And that was as +well, for she would never have consented to allow the girls to keep an +animal and a bath of sand under their bed. + +When breakfast had been cleared away--it was a very nice breakfast with +hot rolls to it, a luxury quite out of the common way--Anthea went and +dragged out the bath, and woke the Psammead. + +It stretched and shook itself. + +'You must have bolted your breakfast most unwholesomely,' it said, 'you +can'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 and +shooting out its long eyes suddenly, 'we'd better begin as we mean to +go on. It won't do to have any misunderstanding, so I tell you plainly +that--' + +'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 without +them; do come down, there's a dear.' + +She knelt before the sand-bath and held out her arms. The Psammead must +have remembered how glad it had been to jump into those same little arms +only the day before, for it gave a little grudging grunt, and jumped +once more. + +Anthea wrapped it in her pinafore and carried it downstairs. It was +welcomed in a thrilling silence. At last Anthea said, 'Now then!' + +'What place is this?' asked the Psammead, shooting its eyes out and +turning 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 if +you want us to. What was it you were going to say upstairs when I said +the 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 that +you should like your brothers and sisters to know exactly how good and +unselfish you were.' + +'I wish you wouldn't,' said Jane. 'Anthea was quite right. What was it +you were going to say when she stopped you?' + +'I'll tell you,' said the Psammead, 'since you're so anxious to know. I +was going to say this. You've saved my life--and I'm not ungrateful--but +it doesn't change your nature or mine. You're still very ignorant, and +rather 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 not +going to stand any nonsense, and if you think what you've done is to +give you the right to pet me or make me demean myself by playing with +you, 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 as +we deserve. I with respect, and all of you with--but I don't wish to be +offensive. Do you want me to tell you how I got into that horrible den +you bought me out of? Oh, I'm not ungrateful! I haven't forgotten it and +I shan't forget it.' + +'Do tell us,' said Anthea. 'I know you're awfully clever, but even with +all your cleverness, I don't believe you can possibly know how--how +respectfully we do respect you. Don't we?' + +The others all said yes--and fidgeted in their chairs. Robert spoke the +wishes of all when he said-- + +'I do wish you'd go on.' So it sat up on the green-covered table and +went on. + +'When you'd gone away,' it said, 'I went to sand for a bit, and slept. I +was tired out with all your silly wishes, and I felt as though I hadn't +really 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't +want to tell you a long tale. A man caught me, and I bit him. And he put +me in a bag with a dead hare and a dead rabbit. And he took me to his +house and put me out of the bag into a basket with holes that I could +see 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 like +the old Babylon--and he sold me to the man you bought me from, and then +I 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 and +The Lamb have gone to Madeira because Mother was ill, and don't I just +wish that they were both safe home again.' + +Merely from habit, the Sand-fairy began to blow itself out, but it +stopped 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 get +her 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 yourself +if 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 you +didn't know what would happen if he did. That can't be done again. It's +played out.' + +'Then you can't help us at all,' said Jane; 'oh--I did think you could +do something; I've been thinking about it ever since we saved your life +yesterday. 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 upsets +me if you cry. I can't feel safe a moment. Look here; you must have some +new kind of charm.' + +'That's easier said than done.' + +'Not a bit of it,' said the creature; 'there's one of the strongest +charms in the world not a stone's throw from where you bought me +yesterday. The man that I bit so--the first one, I mean--went into +a shop to ask how much something cost--I think he said it was a +concertina--and while he was telling the man in the shop how much too +much he wanted for it, I saw the charm in a sort of tray, with a lot of +other things. If you can only buy THAT, you will be able to have your +heart's desire.' + +The children looked at each other and then at the Psammead. Then Cyril +coughed awkwardly and took sudden courage to say what everyone was +thinking. + +'I do hope you won't be waxy,' he said; 'but it's like this: when you +used to give us our wishes they almost always got us into some row +or other, and we used to think you wouldn't have been pleased if they +hadn't. Now, about this charm--we haven't got over and above too much +tin, and if we blue it all on this charm and it turns out to be not up +to 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'S +not far,' said the Psammead crossly. 'Look here, I HAD to give you the +wishes, and of course they turned out badly, in a sort of way, because +you hadn't the sense to wish for what was good for you. But this charm's +quite different. I haven't GOT to do this for you, it's just my own +generous kindness that makes me tell you about it. So it's bound to be +all right. See?' + +'Don't be cross,' said Anthea, 'Please, PLEASE don't. You see, it's +all we've got; we shan't have any more pocket-money till Daddy comes +home--unless he sends us some in a letter. But we DO trust you. And I +say all of you,' she went on, 'don't you think it's worth spending ALL +the money, if there's even the chanciest chance of getting Father and +Mother 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 sand +again till you've made up your minds.' + +'No, don't!' said everybody; and Jane added, 'We are quite mind +made-up--don't you see we are? Let's get our hats. Will you come with +us?' + +'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 that +had come from Farringdon Market with two pounds of filleted plaice in +it. 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 girls +sighed. + +The Psammead poked a wary eye out of the top of the basket every now and +then, 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 things +in the window--concertinas, and silk handkerchiefs, china vases and +tea-cups, blue Japanese jars, pipes, swords, pistols, lace collars, +silver spoons tied up in half-dozens, and wedding-rings in a red +lacquered basin. There were officers' epaulets and doctors' lancets. +There were tea-caddies inlaid with red turtle-shell and brass +curly-wurlies, plates of different kinds of money, and stacks of +different kinds of plates. There was a beautiful picture of a little +girl washing a dog, which Jane liked very much. And in the middle of +the window there was a dirty silver tray full of mother-of-pearl card +counters, old seals, paste buckles, snuff-boxes, and all sorts of little +dingy odds and ends. + +The Psammead put its head quite out of the fish-basket to look in the +window, 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 out +so much that they were as long and thin as new slate-pencils. Its fur +bristled thickly, and its voice was quite hoarse with excitement as it +whispered-- + +'That's it! That's it! There, under that blue and yellow buckle, you can +see 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 of +other things. That blue buckle would do. Then the man will get the tray +out 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, and +presently a large, dirty, short-fingered hand with a very big diamond +ring came stretching through the green half-curtains at the back of the +shop window and took away the tray. + +They could not see what was happening in the interview between Anthea +and the Diamond Ring, and it seemed to them that she had had time--if +she had had money--to buy everything in the shop before the moment came +when she stood before them, her face wreathed in grins, as Cyril said +later, 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 the +others a glimpse of it. 'Do let's get home. We can't stand here like +stuck-pigs looking at it in the street.' + +So home they went. The parlour in Fitzroy Street was a very flat +background to magic happenings. Down in the country among the flowers +and green fields anything had seemed--and indeed had been--possible. But +it was hard to believe that anything really wonderful could happen so +near the Tottenham Court Road. But the Psammead was there--and it in +itself was wonderful. And it could talk--and it had shown them where a +charm could be bought that would make the owner of it perfectly happy. +So the four children hurried home, taking very long steps, with their +chins stuck out, and their mouths shut very tight indeed. They went so +fast that the Psammead was quite shaken about in its fish-bag, but it +did not say anything--perhaps for fear of attracting public notice. + +They got home at last, very hot indeed, and set the Psammead on the +green tablecloth. + +'Now then!' said Cyril. + +But the Psammead had to have a plate of sand fetched for it, for it was +quite faint. When it had refreshed itself a little it said-- + +'Now then! Let me see the charm,' and Anthea laid it on the green +table-cover. The Psammead shot out his long eyes to look at it, then it +turned 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 it +was 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 cost +seven-and-six.'--'Oh, bother, bother, bother!'--'Don't be silly little +idiots!' 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,' said +the Psammead. 'I'll go to sand till you come back. Cheer up! Even the +bit you've got is SOME good, but it'll be no end of a bother if you +can't find the other.' + +So Cyril went to the shop. And the Psammead to sand. And the other three +went to dinner, which was now ready. And old Nurse was very cross that +Cyril was not ready too. + +The three were watching at the windows when Cyril returned, and even +before he was near enough for them to see his face there was something +about the slouch of his shoulders and set of his knickerbockers and +the way he dragged his boots along that showed but too plainly that his +errand 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 said +it was a Roman lady's locket, and people shouldn't buy curios if they +didn't know anything about arky--something or other, and that he never +went back on a bargain, because it wasn't business, and he expected his +customers to act the same. He was simply nasty--that's what he was, and +I want my dinner.' + +It was plain that Cyril was not pleased. + +The unlikeliness of anything really interesting happening in that +parlour lay like a weight of lead on everyone's spirits. Cyril had his +dinner, and just as he was swallowing the last mouthful of apple-pudding +there was a scratch at the door. Anthea opened it and in walked the +Psammead. + +'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 get +the 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, sit +down and listen with all your ears. Eight, are there? Right--I am glad +you know arithmetic. Now pay attention, because I don't intend to tell +you everything twice over.' + +As the children settled themselves on the floor--it was far more +comfortable than the chairs, as well as more polite to the Psammead, who +was stroking its whiskers on the hearth-rug--a sudden cold pain caught +at Anthea's heart. Father--Mother--the darling Lamb--all far away. Then +a warm, comfortable feeling flowed through her. The Psammead was here, +and at least half a charm, and there were to be adventures. (If you +don't know what a cold pain is, I am glad for your sakes, and I hope you +never may.) + +'Now,' said the Psammead cheerily, 'you are not particularly nice, nor +particularly clever, and you're not at all good-looking. Still, you've +saved my life--oh, when I think of that man and his pail of water!--so +I'll tell you all I know. At least, of course I can't do that, because I +know 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 that +can do all sorts of things; it can make the corn grow, and the waters +flow, and the trees bear fruit, and the little new beautiful babies +come. (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's +true 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 people +unhappy--jealousy, bad temper, pride, disagreeableness, greediness, +selfishness, laziness. Evil spirits, people called them when the Amulet +was 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 much +interest. + +'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 for +you 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't +there?' She appealed to the Psammead. It nodded. + +'Yes,' it said; 'the half has the power to take you anywhere you like to +look 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 of +hay. Yes--it IS bottle, and not bundle, Father said so.' + +'Not at all,' said the Psammead briskly-, 'you think you know +everything, but you are quite mistaken. The first thing is to get the +thing to talk.' + +'Can it?' Jane questioned. Jane's question did not mean that she thought +it couldn't, for in spite of the parlour furniture the feeling of magic +was growing deeper and thicker, and seemed to fill the room like a dream +of 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 on +the part of the charm that you've got. And as soon as you say the name +out 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 of +chickens 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 you +must find some one who can. A priest now?' + +'We don't know any priests,' said Anthea; 'we know a clergyman--he's +called a priest in the prayer-book, you know--but he only knows Greek +and 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 so +many stone images. Not so much, if I'm to tell the truth. Is there no +wise man in your Babylon who can pronounce the names of the Great Ones?' + +'There's a poor learned gentleman upstairs,' said Anthea, 'we might try +him. He has a lot of stone images in his room, and iron-looking ones +too--we peeped in once when he was out. Old Nurse says he doesn't eat +enough 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 greater +name 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 then +ask his aid--oh, yes, you'd better all go; you can put me to sand as you +go upstairs. I must have a few minutes' peace and quietness.' + +So the four children hastily washed their hands and brushed their +hair--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 and +upright dealing'. + + + +CHAPTER 3. THE PAST + +The learned gentleman had let his dinner get quite cold. It was mutton +chop, and as it lay on the plate it looked like a brown island in the +middle of a frozen pond, because the grease of the gravy had become +cold, and consequently white. It looked very nasty, and it was the first +thing the children saw when, after knocking three times and receiving +no reply, one of them ventured to turn the handle and softly to open the +door. The chop was on the end of a long table that ran down one side of +the room. The table had images on it and queer-shaped stones, and books. +And there were glass cases fixed against the wall behind, with little +strange things in them. The cases were rather like the ones you see in +jewellers' 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 reminded +the children of watchmakers, and also of the long snail's eyes of the +Psammead. The gentleman was very long and thin, and his long, thin boots +stuck out under the other side of his table. He did not hear the door +open, and the children stood hesitating. At last Robert gave the door a +push, and they all started back, for in the middle of the wall that the +door had hidden was a mummy-case--very, very, very big--painted in red +and yellow and green and black, and the face of it seemed to look at +them quite angrily. + +You know what a mummy-case is like, of course? If you don't you had +better go to the British Museum at once and find out. Anyway, it is not +at all the sort of thing that you expect to meet in a top-floor front +in Bloomsbury, looking as though it would like to know what business YOU +had there. + +So everyone said, 'Oh!' rather loud, and their boots clattered as they +stumbled back. + +The learned gentleman took the glass out of his eye and said--'I beg +your pardon,' in a very soft, quiet pleasant voice--the voice of a +gentleman who has been to Oxford. + +'It's us that beg yours,' said Cyril politely. 'We are sorry to disturb +you.' + +'Come in,' said the gentleman, rising--with the most distinguished +courtesy, Anthea told herself. 'I am delighted to see you. Won't you sit +down? No, not there; allow me to move that papyrus.' + +He cleared a chair, and stood smiling and looking kindly through his +large, round spectacles. + +'He treats us like grown-ups,' whispered Robert, 'and he doesn't seem to +know how many of us there are.' + +'Hush,' said Anthea, 'it isn't manners to whisper. You say, Cyril--go +ahead.' + +'We're very sorry to disturb you,' said Cyril politely, 'but we did +knock three times, and you didn't say "Come in", or "Run away now", or +that you couldn't be bothered just now, or to come when you weren't so +busy, or any of the things people do say when you knock at doors, so we +opened it. We knew you were in because we heard you sneeze while we were +waiting.' + +'Not at all,' said the gentleman; 'do sit down.' + +'He has found out there are four of us,' said Robert, as the gentleman +cleared three more chairs. He put the things off them carefully on the +floor. The first chair had things like bricks that tiny, tiny birds' +feet have walked over when the bricks were soft, only the marks were in +regular 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 on +it. The children sat down. + +'We know you are very, very learned,' said Cyril, 'and we have got a +charm, and we want you to read the name on it, because it isn't in Latin +or Greek, or Hebrew, or any of the languages WE know--' + +'A thorough knowledge of even those languages is a very fair foundation +on which to build an education,' said the gentleman politely. + +'Oh!' said Cyril blushing, 'but we only know them to look at, except +Latin--and I'm only in Caesar with that.' The gentleman took off his +spectacles and laughed. His laugh sounded rusty, Cyril thought, as +though it wasn't often used. + +'Of course!' he said. 'I'm sure I beg your pardon. I think I must have +been 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 found +something that you think to be an antiquity, and you've brought it to +show 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 the +truthful Anthea. 'It was just for US because we wanted to know the name +on it--' + +'Oh, yes--and, I say,' Robert interjected, 'you won't think it rude +of us if we ask you first, before we show it, to be bound in the +what-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 gentle +nervousness. + +'Well, it's this way,' said Cyril. 'We've got part of a charm. And the +Sammy--I mean, something told us it would work, though it's only half a +one; but it won't work unless we can say the name that's on it. But, of +course, if you've got another name that can lick ours, our charm will +be no go; so we want you to give us your word of honour as a +gentleman--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 us +your honourable word not to say any name stronger than the name on our +charm?' + +The gentleman had put on his spectacles again and was looking at Cyril +through them. He now said: 'Bless me!' more than once, adding, 'Who told +you 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 learned +gentleman just then, for he smiled. 'I see,' he said. 'It is some sort +of game that you are engaged in? Of course! Yes! Well, I will certainly +promise. Yet I wonder how you heard of the names of power?' + +'We can't tell you that either,' said Cyril; and Anthea said, 'Here is +our charm,' and held it out. + +With politeness, but without interest, the gentleman took it. But after +the first glance all his body suddenly stiffened, as a pointer's does +when he sees a partridge. + +'Excuse me,' he said in quite a changed voice, and carried the charm to +the window. He looked at it; he turned it over. He fixed his spy-glass +in his eye and looked again. No one said anything. Only Robert made a +shuffling noise with his feet till Anthea nudged him to shut up. At last +the 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 name +is--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--extraordinarily +valuable, 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 ever +you should wish to part with it, may I ask you to give me the refusal of +it?' + +'The refusal?' + +'I mean, do not sell it to anyone else until you have given me the +opportunity of buying it.' + +'All right,' said Cyril, 'we won't. But we don't want to sell it. We +want to make it do things.' + +'I suppose you can play at that as well as at anything else,' said the +gentleman; 'but I'm afraid the days of magic are over.' + +'They aren't REALLY,' said Anthea earnestly. 'You'd see they aren't if I +could tell you about our last summer holidays. Only I mustn't. Thank you +very much. And can you read the name?' + +'Yes, I can read it.' + +'Will you tell it us?' 'The name,' said the gentleman, 'is Ur Hekau +Setcheh.' + +'Ur Hekau Setcheh,' repeated Cyril. 'Thanks awfully. I do hope we +haven'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 think +of, 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-case +were standing opposite to each other, and both looked as though they had +stood 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? Father +forgets his dinner sometimes when he's writing, and Mother always says I +ought to remind him if she's not at home to do it herself, because it's +so bad to miss your regular meals. + +So I thought perhaps you wouldn't mind my reminding you, because you +don't seem to have anyone else to do it.' + +She glanced at the mummy-case; IT certainly did not look as though it +would 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 to +remind 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 was +nasty, perhaps because he longed for the charm which the children did +not want to sell, perhaps because it was so long since anyone cared +whether he ate his chops or forgot them. + +Anthea caught the others at the stair-foot. They woke the Psammead, and +it taught them exactly how to use the word of power, and to make the +charm speak. I am not going to tell you how this is done, because you +might try to do it. And for you any such trying would be almost sure +to end in disappointment. Because in the first place it is a thousand +million to one against your ever getting hold of the right sort of +charm, and if you did, there would be hardly any chance at all of your +finding a learned gentleman clever enough and kind enough to read the +word for you. + +The children and the Psammead crouched in a circle on the floor--in the +girls' bedroom, because in the parlour they might have been interrupted +by old Nurse's coming in to lay the cloth for tea--and the charm was put +in the middle of the circle. + +The sun shone splendidly outside, and the room was very light. Through +the open window came the hum and rattle of London, and in the street +below they could hear the voice of the milkman. + +When all was ready, the Psammead signed to Anthea to say the word. And +she said it. Instantly the whole light of all the world seemed to go +out. The room was dark. The world outside was dark--darker than the +darkest night that ever was. And all the sounds went out too, so that +there was a silence deeper than any silence you have ever even dreamed +of imagining. It was like being suddenly deaf and blind, only darker and +quieter even than that. + +But before the children had got over the sudden shock of it enough to be +frightened, a faint, beautiful light began to show in the middle of the +circle, 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 was +too small for you to hear what it said. You could just see the light and +just 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 of +glow-worms were signalling to their winged sweethearts from the middle +of the circle. And the voice grew, not so much in loudness as in +sweetness (though it grew louder, too), till it was so sweet that +you wanted to cry with pleasure just at the sound of it. It was like +nightingales, and the sea, and the fiddle, and the voice of your mother +when you have been a long time away, and she meets you at the door when +you 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 that +everyone present understood it perfectly. If you come to think of it, +there must be some language that everyone could understand, if we only +knew what it was. Nor can I tell you how the charm spoke, nor whether +it was the charm that spoke, or some presence in the charm. The children +could not have told you either. Indeed, they could not look at the charm +while it was speaking, because the light was too bright. They looked +instead at the green radiance on the faded Kidderminster carpet at the +edge of the circle. They all felt very quiet, and not inclined to ask +questions or fidget with their feet. For this was not like the things +that had happened in the country when the Psammead had given them their +wishes. That had been funny somehow, and this was not. It was something +like Arabian Nights magic, and something like being in church. No one +cared 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, 'was +broken and ground into the dust of the shrine that held it. It and the +pin that joined the two halves are themselves dust, and the dust is +scattered over many lands and sunk in many seas.' + +'Oh, I say!' murmured Robert, and a blank silence fell. 'Then it's all +up?' said Cyril at last; 'it's no use our looking for a thing that's +smashed into dust, and the dust scattered all over the place.' + +'If you would find it,' said the voice, 'You must seek it where it still +is, 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 existed +in the Past. If you were in the Past, too, you could find it. It's very +difficult to make you understand things. Time and space are only forms +of 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, you +could see everything happening in the same place at the same time. Now +do 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 the +Past. Therefore it's in the Past we must look for it. I mustn't speak to +the 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 the +place that then held it. You yourselves must find it.' + +'When did you see it last?' asked Anthea--'I mean, when was it taken +away from you?' + +The beautiful voice answered-- + +'That was thousands of years ago. The Amulet was perfect then, and lay +in a shrine, the last of many shrines, and I worked wonders. Then came +strange men with strange weapons and destroyed my shrine, and the Amulet +they bore away with many captives. But of these, one, my priest, knew +the word of power, and spoke it for me, so that the Amulet became +invisible, and thus returned to my shrine, but the shrine was broken +down, and ere any magic could rebuild it one spoke a word before which +my power bowed down and was still. And the Amulet lay there, still +perfect, but enslaved. Then one coming with stones to rebuild the +shrine, dropped a hewn stone on the Amulet as it lay, and one half was +sundered 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 at +last came a small man, a conqueror with an army, and after him a crowd +of men who sought to seem wise, and one of these found half the Amulet +and brought it to this land. But none could read the name. So I lay +still. And this man dying and his son after him, the Amulet was sold by +those who came after to a merchant, and from him you bought it, and it +is 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 the +small man, the conqueror. Because I know I have been told that he took +an army to Egypt, and that afterwards a lot of wise people went grubbing +in the sand, and fished up all sorts of wonderful things, older than +you would think possible. And of these I believe this charm to have been +one, and the most wonderful one of all. + +Everyone listened: and everyone tried to think. It is not easy to do +this clearly when you have been listening to the kind of talk I have +told you about. + +At last Robert said-- + +'Can you take us into the Past--to the shrine where you and the other +thing were together. If you could take us there, we might find the other +part still there after all these thousands of years.' + +'Still there? silly!' said Cyril. 'Don't you see, if we go back into the +Past it won't be thousands of years ago. It will be NOW for us--won't +it?' 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 shrine +and you were safe in it--all of you?' + +'Yes,' said the voice. 'You must hold me up, and speak the word of +power, and one by one, beginning with the first-born, you shall pass +through me into the Past. But let the last that passes be the one that +holds me, and let him not lose his hold, lest you lose me, and so remain +in the Past for ever.' + +'That's a nasty idea,' said Robert. + +'When you desire to return,' the beautiful voice went on, 'hold me up +towards the East, and speak the word. Then, passing through me, you +shall 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 it +proper daylight again so that we can go down. And thank you so much for +all your kindness.' + +'We've enjoyed ourselves very much indeed, thank you!' added Anthea +politely. + +The beautiful light faded slowly. The great darkness and silence came +and these suddenly changed to the dazzlement of day and the great soft, +rustling sound of London, that is like some vast beast turning over in +its sleep. + +The children rubbed their eyes, the Psammead ran quickly to its sandy +bath, and the others went down to tea. And until the cups were actually +filled tea seemed less real than the beautiful voice and the greeny +light. + +After tea Anthea persuaded the others to allow her to hang the charm +round her neck with a piece of string. + +'It would be so awful if it got lost,' she said: 'it might get lost +anywhere, you know, and it would be rather beastly for us to have to +stay 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 'poor +learned gentleman's' breakfast. He did not recognize her at first, but +when he did he was vaguely pleased to see her. + +'You see I'm wearing the charm round my neck,' she said; 'I'm taking +care 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 then +greeny light, and then it spoke. Oh! I wish you could have heard it--it +was such a darling voice--and it told us the other half of it was lost +in the Past, so of course we shall have to look for it there!' + +The learned gentleman rubbed his hair with both hands and looked +anxiously 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 was +missing?' + +'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, and +all that, but really, I'm not allowed to tell anybody anything about +the--the--the person who told me. You won't forget your breakfast, will +you?' + +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--any +time 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 wondered +whether all children were like these. He spent quite five minutes in +wondering before he settled down to the fifty-second chapter of his +great 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 of +agitation at the thought of going through the charm into the Past. That +idea, 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 that +the charm should not be used; and though each was in its heart very +frightened indeed, they would all have joined in jeering at the +cowardice of any one of them who should have uttered the timid but +natural suggestion, 'Don't let's!' + +It seemed necessary to make arrangements for being out all day, for +there was no reason to suppose that the sound of the dinner-bell would +be able to reach back into the Past, and it seemed unwise to excite old +Nurse's curiosity when nothing they could say--not even the truth--could +in any way satisfy it. They were all very proud to think how well they +had understood what the charm and the Psammead had said about Time and +Space and things like that, and they were perfectly certain that it +would be quite impossible to make old Nurse understand a single word +of it. So they merely asked her to let them take their dinner out into +Regent's Park--and this, with the implied cold mutton and tomatoes, was +readily granted. + +'You can get yourselves some buns or sponge-cakes, or whatever you +fancy-like,' said old Nurse, giving Cyril a shilling. 'Don't go getting +jam-tarts, now--so messy at the best of times, and without forks and +plates ruination to your clothes, besides your not being able to wash +your hands and faces afterwards.' + +So Cyril took the shilling, and they all started off. They went round +by the Tottenham Court Road to buy a piece of waterproof sheeting to put +over the Psammead in case it should be raining in the Past when they got +there. For it is almost certain death to a Psammead to get wet. + +The sun was shining very brightly, and even London looked pretty. Women +were selling roses from big baskets-full, and Anthea bought four roses, +one each, for herself and the others. They were red roses and smelt +of summer--the kind of roses you always want so desperately at about +Christmas-time when you can only get mistletoe, which is pale right +through to its very scent, and holly which pricks your nose if you try +to smell it. So now everyone had a rose in its buttonhole, and soon +everyone was sitting on the grass in Regent's Park under trees whose +leaves would have been clean, clear green in the country, but here were +dusty and yellowish, and brown at the edges. + +'We've got to go on with it,' said Anthea, 'and as the eldest has to go +first, you'll have to be last, Jane. You quite understand about holding +on 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,' she +added, 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 drop +me. I can't bear being dropped.' + +Jane with trembling hands took the Psammead and its fish-basket under +one arm. The charm's long string was hung round her neck. Then they all +stood up. Jane held out the charm at arm's length, and Cyril solemnly +pronounced the word of power. + +As he spoke it the charm grew tall and broad, and he saw that Jane was +just 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 go +through it. All round and beyond the arch were the faded trees and +trampled grass of Regent's Park, where the little ragged children were +playing Ring-o'-Roses. But through the opening of it shone a blaze of +blue and yellow and red. Cyril drew a long breath and stiffened his +legs so that the others should not see that his knees were trembling and +almost knocking together. 'Here goes!' he said, and, stepping up through +the arch, disappeared. Then followed Anthea. Robert, coming next, +held fast, at Anthea's suggestion, to the sleeve of Jane, who was thus +dragged safely through the arch. And as soon as they were on the other +side of the arch there was no more arch at all and no more Regent's Park +either, 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 and +rubbed their eyes. During this dazzling interval Anthea felt for the +charm 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 looked +around them. The sky was very, very blue, and it sparkled and glittered +and dazzled like the sea at home when the sun shines on it. + +They were standing on a little clearing in a thick, low forest; there +were trees and shrubs and a close, thorny, tangly undergrowth. In +front of them stretched a bank of strange black mud, then came the +browny-yellowy shining ribbon of a river. Then more dry, caked mud and +more greeny-browny jungle. The only things that told that human people +had been there were the clearing, a path that led to it, and an odd +arrangement 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 London +in 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, or +what.' + +'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 for +natural history. + +The Psammead reached out a hairy arm from its basket and pointed to a +heap of mud at the edge of the water. + +'What do you call that?' it said; and as it spoke the heap of mud slid +into the river just as a slab of damp mixed mortar will slip from a +bricklayer'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 an +enormous slaty-blue slug showed itself against the black bank on the far +side of the stream. + +'It's a hippopotamus,' said Cyril; 'it seems much more real somehow than +the 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 was +horrible. Of course it might be another hippopotamus, or a crocodile, or +a lion--or, in fact, almost anything. + +'Keep your hand on the charm, Jane,' said Robert hastily. 'We ought to +have a means of escape handy. I'm dead certain this is the sort of place +where 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 and +fair, and though her skin was tanned by the sun, you could see that it +would have been fair too if it had had a chance. She had every chance of +being tanned, for she had no clothes to speak of, and the four English +children, carefully dressed in frocks, hats, shoes, stockings, coats, +collars, and all the rest of it, envied her more than any words of +theirs or of mine could possibly say. There was no doubt that here was +the right costume for that climate. + +She carried a pot on her head, of red and black earthenware. She did not +see the children, who shrank back against the edge of the jungle, and +she went forward to the brink of the river to fill her pitcher. As she +went she made a strange sort of droning, humming, melancholy noise +all on two notes. Anthea could not help thinking that perhaps the girl +thought this noise was singing. + +The girl filled the pitcher and set it down by the river bank. Then +she waded into the water and stooped over the circle of cut reeds. She +pulled half a dozen fine fish out of the water within the reeds, killing +each as she took it out, and threading it on a long osier that she +carried. Then she knotted the osier, hung it on her arm, picked up the +pitcher, and turned to come back. And as she turned she saw the four +children. The white dresses of Jane and Anthea stood out like snow +against the dark forest background. She screamed and the pitcher fell, +and the water was spilled out over the hard mud surface and over the +fish, which had fallen too. Then the water slowly trickled away into the +deep 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 was +that the girl could understand Anthea and Anthea could understand the +girl. YOU, at any rate, would not understand ME, if I tried to explain +it, any more than you can understand about time and space being only +forms of thought. You may think what you like. Perhaps the children +had found out the universal language which everyone can understand, and +which wise men so far have not found. You will have noticed long ago +that they were singularly lucky children, and they may have had this +piece of luck as well as others. Or it may have been that... but +why pursue the question further? The fact remains that in all their +adventures the muddle-headed inventions which we call foreign languages +never bothered them in the least. They could always understand and +be understood. If you can explain this, please do. I daresay I could +understand your explanation, though you could never understand mine. + +So when the girl said, 'Who are you?' everyone understood at once, and +Anthea replied-- + +'We are children--just like you. Don't be frightened. Won't you show us +where you live?' + +Jane put her face right into the Psammead's basket, and burrowed her +mouth 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 said +rather crossly. 'You can always get back to Regent's Park in time if you +keep 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 trumpery +thing that pretended to be silver; it had a glass heart of turquoise +blue hanging from it, and it was the gift of the maid-of-all-work at the +Fitzroy Street house. 'Here,' said Anthea, 'this is for you. That is +to show we will not hurt you. And if you take it I shall know that you +won't hurt us.' + +The girl held out her hand. Anthea slid the bangle over it, and the +girl's face lighted up with the joy of possession. + +'Come,' she said, looking lovingly at the bangle; 'it is peace between +your house and mine.' + +She picked up her fish and pitcher and led the way up the narrow path by +which 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 it +quite different from the Phoenix and Carpet happenings.' + +The belt of thick-growing acacia trees and shrubs--mostly prickly and +unpleasant-looking--seemed about half a mile across. The path was narrow +and the wood dark. At last, ahead, daylight shone through the boughs and +leaves. + +The whole party suddenly came out of the wood's shadow into the glare of +the sunlight that shone on a great stretch of yellow sand, dotted with +heaps of grey rocks where spiky cactus plants showed gaudy crimson and +pink flowers among their shabby, sand-peppered leaves. Away to the right +was something that looked like a grey-brown hedge, and from beyond it +blue smoke went up to the bluer sky. And over all the sun shone till you +could 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 all +right.' + +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 merely +snarled-- + +'If you don't go now I'll never help you again.' + +'OH,' whispered Anthea, 'dear Jane, don't! Think of Father and Mother +and 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's +no 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 great +hedge 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 are +as long as my foot.' + +There was an opening in the hedge, and they followed the girl through +it. A little way further on was another hedge, not so high, also of dry +thorn bushes, very prickly and spiteful-looking, and within this was a +sort of village of huts. + +There were no gardens and no roads. Just huts built of wood and twigs +and clay, and roofed with great palm-leaves, dumped down anywhere. The +doors of these houses were very low, like the doors of dog-kennels. +The ground between them was not paths or streets, but just yellow sand +trampled very hard and smooth. + +In the middle of the village there was a hedge that enclosed what seemed +to 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 than +dozens of men and women and children came crowding round from behind and +inside the huts. + +The girl stood protectingly in front of the four children, and said-- + +'They are wonder-children from beyond the desert. They bring marvellous +gifts, 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 never +before 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 when +he had had to wait in an outer office while his father interviewed +a solicitor, and there had been nothing to read but the Daily +Telegraph--'we come from the world where the sun never sets. And peace +with honour is what we want. We are the great Anglo-Saxon or conquering +race. Not that we want to conquer YOU,' he added hastily. 'We only want +to look at your houses and your--well, at all you've got here, and then +we shall return to our own place, and tell of all that we have seen so +that your name may be famed.' + +Cyril's speech didn't keep the crowd from pressing round and looking as +eagerly as ever at the clothing of the children. Anthea had an idea +that these people had never seen woven stuff before, and she saw how +wonderful and strange it must seem to people who had never had any +clothes but the skins of beasts. The sewing, too, of modern clothes +seemed to astonish them very much. They must have been able to sew +themselves, by the way, for men who seemed to be the chiefs wore +knickerbockers of goat-skin or deer-skin, fastened round the waist +with twisted strips of hide. And the women wore long skimpy skirts of +animals' skins. The people were not very tall, their hair was fair, and +men and women both had it short. Their eyes were blue, and that seemed +odd in Egypt. Most of them were tattooed like sailors, only more +roughly. + +'What is this? What is this?' they kept asking touching the children's +clothes curiously. + +Anthea hastily took off Jane's frilly lace collar and handed it to the +woman who seemed most friendly. + +'Take this,' she said, 'and look at it. And leave us alone. We want to +talk among ourselves.' + +She spoke in the tone of authority which she had always found successful +when she had not time to coax her baby brother to do as he was told. The +tone was just as successful now. The children were left together and the +crowd retreated. It paused a dozen yards away to look at the lace collar +and to go on talking as hard as it could. + +The children will never know what those people said, though they knew +well enough that they, the four strangers, were the subject of the talk. +They tried to comfort themselves by remembering the girl's promise +of friendliness, but of course the thought of the charm was more +comfortable than anything else. They sat down on the sand in the shadow +of the hedged-round place in the middle of the village, and now for the +first time they were able to look about them and to see something more +than a crowd of eager, curious faces. + +They here noticed that the women wore necklaces made of beads of +different coloured stone, and from these hung pendants of odd, strange +shapes, and some of them had bracelets of ivory and flint. + +'I say,' said Robert, 'what a lot we could teach them if we stayed +here!' + +'I expect they could teach us something too,' said Cyril. 'Did you +notice that flint bracelet the woman had that Anthea gave the collar to? +That must have taken some making. Look here, they'll get suspicious if +we 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 to +get the Amulet at the same time. Only mind, we must keep together.' + +Anthea beckoned to the girl, who was standing a little way off looking +wistfully 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 of +special skill in such work.' + +'Haven't you any iron tools?' + +'Iron,' said the girl, 'I don't know what you mean.' It was the first +word 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 wanted +to hear all about this new place, but they also wanted to tell of their +own country. It was like when you come back from your holidays and you +want to hear and to tell everything at the same time. As the talk went +on 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 their +own country was like, when they began to see how very few of the things +they had always thought they could not do without were really not at all +necessary to life. + +The girl showed them how the huts were made--indeed, as one was being +made that very day she took them to look at it. The way of building was +very different from ours. The men stuck long pieces of wood into a piece +of ground the size of the hut they wanted to make. These were about +eight inches apart; then they put in another row about eight inches away +from the first, and then a third row still further out. Then all the +space between was filled up with small branches and twigs, and then +daubed over with black mud worked with the feet till it was soft and +sticky like putty. + +The girl told them how the men went hunting with flint spears and +arrows, and how they made boats with reeds and clay. Then she explained +the reed thing in the river that she had taken the fish out of. It was a +fish-trap--just a ring of reeds set up in the water with only one little +opening in it, and in this opening, just below the water, were stuck +reeds slanting the way of the river's flow, so that the fish, when they +had swum sillily in, sillily couldn't get out again. She showed them the +clay pots and jars and platters, some of them ornamented with black and +red patterns, and the most wonderful things made of flint and different +sorts of stone, beads, and ornaments, and tools and weapons of all sorts +and kinds. + +'It is really wonderful,' said Cyril patronizingly, 'when you consider +that 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--and +that's just what I don't like about it. I say, DO let's get home again +before anything more happens. You can see for yourselves the charm isn't +here.' + +'What's in that place in the middle?' asked Anthea, struck by a sudden +thought, and pointing to the fence. + +'That's the secret sacred place,' said the girl in a whisper. 'No one +knows what is there. There are many walls, and inside the insidest one +IT 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 a +bead-ring which had already been much admired. + +'Yes,' said the girl, catching eagerly at the ring. 'My father is one of +the heads, and I know a water charm to make him talk in his sleep. And +he has spoken. I will tell you. But if they know I have told you they +will kill me. In the insidest inside there is a stone box, and in it +there is the Amulet. None knows whence it came. It came from very far +away.' + +'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 it +they will kill us all. You for taking it, and me for knowing that there +was 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 you +be such a little jack-ape again--that's all. You see what will happen if +you do. Now, tell me--' He turned to the girl, but before he had time to +speak the question there was a loud shout, and a man bounded in through +the 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 too +busy 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 he +ought to feel. + +'Hide it up, Pussy,' he said. 'We are in for it now. We've just got to +stay and see it out.' + + + +CHAPTER 5. THE FIGHT IN THE VILLAGE + +Here was a horrible position! Four English children, whose proper date +was A.D. 1905, and whose proper address was London, set down in Egypt in +the year 6000 B.C. with no means whatever of getting back into their own +time and place. They could not find the East, and the sun was of no use +at the moment, because some officious person had once explained to Cyril +that the sun did not really set in the West at all--nor rise in the East +either, for the matter of that. + +The Psammead had crept out of the bass-bag when they were not looking +and had basely deserted them. + +An enemy was approaching. There would be a fight. People get killed +in fights, and the idea of taking part in a fight was one that did not +appeal to the children. + +The man who had brought the news of the enemy still lay panting on the +sand. His tongue was hanging out, long and red, like a dog's. The +people of the village were hurriedly filling the gaps in the fence with +thorn-bushes from the heap that seemed to have been piled there +ready for just such a need. They lifted the cluster-thorns with long +poles--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 pink +paper cap. It was his only weapon. + +Cyril tightened his belt two holes. + +And Anthea absently took the drooping red roses from the buttonholes of +the others, bit the ends of the stalks, and set them in a pot of water +that stood in the shadow by a hut door. She was always rather silly +about flowers. + +'Look here!' she said. 'I think perhaps the Psammead is really arranging +something for us. I don't believe it would go away and leave us all +alone 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's +got to say.' + +The runner had risen to his knees and was sitting back on his heels. Now +he stood up and spoke. He began by some respectful remarks addressed to +the 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 an +hour's journey. Then I set my snares and waited. And I heard the sound +of many wings, and looking up, saw many herons circling in the air. And +I saw that they were afraid; so I took thought. A beast may scare one +heron, coming upon it suddenly, but no beast will scare a whole flock of +herons. And still they flew and circled, and would not light. So then I +knew that what scared the herons must be men, and men who knew not our +ways of going softly so as to take the birds and beasts unawares. By +this I knew they were not of our race or of our place. So, leaving my +raft, 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 shine +red like the sun. They are a terrible people, and their march is towards +US. 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 on +Cyril, 'you came as spies for them.' + +'We did NOT,' said Cyril indignantly. 'We wouldn't be spies for +anything. 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 hair +black as night. Yet these strange children, maybe, are their gods, who +have 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 to +guard your sacred things.' + +The headman seemed impressed by the fact that Cyril knew that there WERE +sacred 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 in +battle.' + +The crowd dispersed, and nine men, wearing antelope-skins, grouped +themselves in front of the opening in the hedge in the middle of +the village. And presently, one by one, the men brought all sorts of +things--hippopotamus flesh, ostrich-feathers, the fruit of the date +palms, red chalk, green chalk, fish from the river, and ibex from the +mountains; and the headman received these gifts. There was another hedge +inside the first, about a yard from it, so that there was a lane inside +between the hedges. And every now and then one of the headmen would +disappear along this lane with full hands and come back with hands +empty. + +'They're making offerings to their Amulet,' said Anthea. 'We'd better +give something too.' + +The pockets of the party, hastily explored, yielded a piece of pink +tape, a bit of sealing-wax, and part of the Waterbury watch that Robert +had not been able to help taking to pieces at Christmas and had never +had time to rearrange. Most boys have a watch in this condition. They +presented their offerings, and Anthea added the red roses. + +The headman who took the things looked at them with awe, especially at +the red roses and the Waterbury-watch fragment. + +'This is a day of very wondrous happenings,' he said. 'I have no more +room in me to be astonished. Our maiden said there was peace between you +and 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 will +give you a sign. You see this.' He held out the toy pistol. 'I shall +speak to it, and if it answers me you will know that I and the others +are come to guard your sacred thing--that we've just made the offerings +to.' + +'Will that god whose image you hold in your hand speak to you alone, or +shall I also hear it?' asked the man cautiously. + +'You'll be surprised when you DO hear it,' said Robert. 'Now, then.' He +looked at the pistol and said-- + +'If we are to guard the sacred treasure within'--he pointed to the +hedged-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 it +was 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 the +sacred thing.' + +So now the four children were led in through the opening of the hedge +and round the lane till they came to an opening in the inner hedge, and +they went through an opening in that, and so passed into another lane. + +The thing was built something like this, and all the hedges were of +brushwood 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 of +the 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 the +curtain.' He himself passed it and disappeared. + +'But look here,' whispered Cyril, 'some of us ought to be outside in +case the Psammead turns up.' + +'Don't let's get separated from each other, whatever we do,' said +Anthea. 'It's quite bad enough to be separated from the Psammead. We +can't do anything while that man is in there. Let's all go out into +the 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 to +fighting. 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 treasure +when the fighting began. And now they looked about them and were able +to see exactly how a first-class worker in flint flakes and notches an +arrow-head or the edge of an axe--an advantage which no other person now +alive has ever enjoyed. The boys found the weapons most interesting. +The arrow-heads were not on arrows such as you shoot from a bow, but +on javelins, for throwing from the hand. The chief weapon was a stone +fastened to a rather short stick something like the things gentlemen +used to carry about and call life-preservers in the days of the +garrotters. + +Then there were long things like spears or lances, with flint +knives--horribly sharp--and flint battle-axes. + +Everyone in the village was so busy that the place was like an ant-heap +when you have walked into it by accident. The women were busy and even +the children. + +Quite suddenly all the air seemed to glow and grow red--it was like +the sudden opening of a furnace door, such as you may see at Woolwich +Arsenal if you ever have the luck to be taken there--and then almost as +suddenly it was as though the furnace doors had been shut. For the sun +had set, and it was night. + +The sun had that abrupt way of setting in Egypt eight thousand years +ago, 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 brought +the 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 it +really seemed a good idea. You may think that in the midst of all these +dangers the children would not have been able to sleep--but somehow, +though they were rather frightened now and then, the feeling was growing +in them--deep down and almost hidden away, but still growing--that the +Psammead was to be trusted, and that they were really and truly safe. +This did not prevent their being quite as much frightened as they could +bear to be without being perfectly miserable. + +'I suppose we'd better go to sleep,' said Robert. 'I don't know what on +earth poor old Nurse will do with us out all night; set the police on +our tracks, I expect. I only wish they could find us! A dozen policemen +would be rather welcome just now. But it's no use getting into a stew +over it,' he added soothingly. 'Good night.' + +And they all fell asleep. + +They were awakened by long, loud, terrible sounds that seemed to come +from everywhere at once--horrible threatening shouts and shrieks +and howls that sounded, as Cyril said later, like the voices of men +thirsting for their enemies' blood. + +'It is the voice of the strange men,' said the girl, coming to them +trembling through the dark. 'They have attacked the walls, and the +thorns have driven them back. My father says they will not try again +till daylight. But they are shouting to frighten us. As though we were +savages! Dwellers in the swamps!' she cried indignantly. + +All night the terrible noise went on, but when the sun rose, as abruptly +as he had set, the sound suddenly ceased. + +The children had hardly time to be glad of this before a shower +of javelins came hurtling over the great thorn-hedge, and everyone +sheltered behind the huts. But next moment another shower of weapons +came 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 beside +him. 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 the +point whence the crackling and the shouting came; they hurled stones +over the hedges, and short arrows with flint heads. The children had +never before seen men with the fighting light in their eyes. It was very +strange and terrible, and gave you a queer thick feeling in your throat; +it was quite different from the pictures of fights in the illustrated +papers at home. + +It seemed that the shower of stones had driven back the besiegers. The +besieged drew breath, but at that moment the shouting and the crackling +arose on the opposite side of the village and the crowd hastened +to defend that point, and so the fight swayed to and fro across the +village, for the besieged had not the sense to divide their forces as +their enemies had done. + +Cyril noticed that every now and then certain of the fighting-men would +enter the maze, and come out with brighter faces, a braver aspect, and a +more upright carriage. + +'I believe they go and touch the Amulet,' he said. 'You know the +Psammead 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 warriors +came before him he murmured a word they could not hear, and touched +their foreheads with something that they could not see. And this +something he held in his hands. And through his fingers they saw the +gleam of a red stone that they knew. + +The fight raged across the thorn-hedge outside. Suddenly there was a +loud 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 you +leave us!' + +Suddenly there was a shriek from inside the hut, and the headman +staggered out white with fear and fled out through the maze. The +children were as white as he. + +'Oh! What is it? What is it?' moaned Anthea. 'Oh, Psammead, how could +you! How could you!' + +And the sound of the fight sank breathlessly, and swelled fiercely all +around. 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 one +corner by a furry hand, and out peeped the bat's ears and snail's eyes +of the Psammead. + +Anthea caught it in her arms and a sigh of desperate relief was breathed +by each of the four. + +'Oh! which IS the East!' Anthea said, and she spoke hurriedly, for the +noise 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 was +of 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 all +right. 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 offerings +that had been given the night before, Anthea's roses fading on the top +of 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 and +beasts on it. + +'Is the thing in there?' asked Cyril, as the Psammead pointed a skinny +finger at it. + +'You must judge of that,' said the Psammead. 'The man was just going to +bury the box in the sand when I jumped out at him and bit him.' + +'Light another match, Robert,' said Anthea. 'Now, then quick! which is +the East?' + +'Why, where the sun rises, of course!' + +'But someone told us--' + +'Oh! they'll tell you anything!' said the Psammead impatiently, getting +into 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,' said +Jane. + +'How you do waste time!' the Psammead said. 'Why, the East's where the +shrine is, of course. THERE!' + +It pointed to the great stone. + +And still the shouting and the clash of stone on metal sounded nearer +and nearer. The children could hear that the headmen had surrounded the +hut to protect their treasure as long as might be from the enemy. But +none dare to come in after the Psammead's sudden fierce biting of the +headman. + +'Now, Jane,' said Cyril, very quickly. 'I'll take the Amulet, you stand +ready to hold up the charm, and be sure you don't let it go as you come +through.' + +He made a step forward, but at that instant a great crackling overhead +ended 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 the +children trembled and winked in the new light, large dark hands tore +down the wall, and a dark face, with a blobby fat nose, looked over the +gap. Even at that awful moment Anthea had time to think that it was very +like the face of Mr Jacob Absalom, who had sold them the charm in the +shop near Charing Cross. + +'Here is their Amulet,' cried a harsh, strange voice; 'it is this that +makes them strong to fight and brave to die. And what else have we +here--gods or demons?' + +He glared fiercely at the children, and the whites of his eyes were very +white indeed. He had a wet, red copper knife in his teeth. There was not +a moment to lose. + +'Jane, JANE, QUICK!' cried everyone passionately. + +Jane with trembling hands held up the charm towards the East, and Cyril +spoke the word of power. The Amulet grew to a great arch. Out beyond +it was the glaring Egyptian sky, the broken wall, the cruel, dark, +big-nosed face with the red, wet knife in its gleaming teeth. Within the +arch 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, clutching +Jane. And in the ears of each, as they passed through the arch of the +charm, the sound and fury of battle died out suddenly and utterly, and +they heard only the low, dull, discontented hum of vast London, and the +peeking and patting of the sparrows on the gravel and the voices of the +ragged 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 the +basket with their dinner and the bathbuns lying just where they had left +it. + +'My hat!' said Cyril, drawing a long breath; 'that was something like an +adventure.' + +'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 be +most frightfully anxious. The sun looks about the same as it did when +we started yesterday. We've been away twenty-four hours.' 'The buns are +quite soft still,' said Cyril, feeling one; 'I suppose the dew kept them +fresh.' + +They were not hungry, curiously enough. + +They picked up the dinner-basket and the Psammead-basket, and went +straight home. + +Old Nurse met them with amazement. + +'Well, if ever I did!' she said. 'What's gone wrong? You've soon tired +of your picnic.' + +The children took this to be bitter irony, which means saying the exact +opposite of what you mean in order to make yourself disagreeable; as +when you happen to have a dirty face, and someone says, 'How nice and +clean 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 please +me. Come in and get your dinners comf'table. I've got a potato on +a-boiling.' + +When she had gone to attend to the potatoes the children looked at each +other. Could it be that old Nurse had so changed that she no longer +cared that they should have been away from home for twenty-four +hours--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 the +charm-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 go +mixing up the present and the Past, and cutting bits out of one to fit +into 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 of +the modern time, anyhow.' + +That evening Anthea carried up a steak for the learned gentleman's +dinner. She persuaded Beatrice, the maid-of-all-work, who had given her +the bangle with the blue stone, to let her do it. And she stayed and +talked 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,' and +ending up with, 'And then we remembered how to get back, and there we +were 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 that +was forbidden, but the story was quite wonderful enough even as it was +to entrance the learned gentleman. + +'You are a most unusual little girl,' he said. 'Who tells you all these +things?' + +'No one,' said Anthea, 'they just happen.' + +'Make-believe,' he said slowly, as one who recalls and pronounces a +long-forgotten word. + +He sat long after she had left him. At last he roused himself with a +start. + +'I really must take a holiday,' he said; 'my nerves must be all out of +order. I actually have a perfectly distinct impression that the little +girl from the rooms below came in and gave me a coherent and graphic +picture 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 more +careful.' + +He finished his bread conscientiously, and actually went for a mile walk +before 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 house +which she had made for herself and it. The roof of the house was the +dining-table, and the walls were tablecloths and antimacassars hanging +all round, and kept in their places by books laid on their top ends at +the table edge. + +The others were tasting the fearful joys of domestic tobogganing. You +know how it is done--with the largest and best tea-tray and the surface +of the stair carpet. It is best to do it on the days when the stair rods +are 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 that +grown-up people are so unjust to--and old Nurse, though a brick in many +respects, was quite enough of a standard grown-up to put her foot down +on the tobogganing long before any of the performers had had half enough +of it. The tea-tray was taken away, and the baffled party entered the +sitting-room, in exactly the mood not to be pleased if they could help +it. + +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 another +song. 'I'm sick to death of that,' said she. + +It was a wet day, so none of the plans for seeing all the sights of +London that can be seen for nothing could be carried out. Everyone had +been thinking all the morning about the wonderful adventures of the day +before, 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 and +the Regent's Park into the land of Egypt eight thousand years ago. +The memory of yesterday's happenings was still extremely fresh and +frightening, so that everyone hoped that no one would suggest another +excursion into the past, for it seemed to all that yesterday's +adventures were quite enough to last for at least a week. Yet each felt +a little anxious that the others should not think it was afraid, and +presently Cyril, who really was not a coward, began to see that it would +not 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 he +thought 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 a +first-class charm and keeping it idle, just eating its head off in the +stable.' + +'I'M game for anything, of course,' said Robert; but he added, with +a fine air of chivalry, 'only I don't think the girls are keen today +somehow.' + +'Oh, yes; I am,' said Anthea hurriedly. 'If you think I'm afraid, I'm +not.' + +'I am though,' said Jane heavily; 'I didn't like it, and I won't go +there again--not for anything I won't.' + +'We shouldn't go THERE again, silly,' said Cyril; 'it would be some +other 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 said +they were certain they ought to go. + +'It's so ungrateful to the Psammead not to,' Anthea added, a little +primly. + +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'll +scream and I'll scream, and I'll tell old Nurse, and I'll get her to +burn the charm in the kitchen fire. So now, then!' + +You can imagine how furious everyone was with Jane for feeling what each +of 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 Jane +how angry they all felt that all the fault was hers. This made them feel +quite 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 a +cold displeasure that was worse than Robert's cruel quotation, and even +Anthea said, 'Well, I'M not afraid if I AM a girl,' which of course, was +the most cutting thing of all. + +Jane picked up her doll and faced the others with what is sometimes +called the courage of despair. + +'I don't care,' she said; 'I won't, so there! It's just silly going +to places when you don't want to, and when you don't know what they're +going to be like! You can laugh at me as much as you like. You're +beasts--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 so +brave as they had done. + +Cyril took up a book, but it was not interesting to read. Robert kicked +a chair-leg absently. His feet were always eloquent in moments of +emotion. Anthea stood pleating the end of the tablecloth into folds--she +seemed earnestly anxious to get all the pleats the same size. The sound +of Jane's sobs had died away. + +Suddenly Anthea said, 'Oh! let it be "pax"--poor little Pussy--you know +she'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 always +uncompromising. + +'I'm not going to say I'm sorry if you mean that,' said Robert, and the +chair-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 so +hate it if we row. Come on. I'll say I'm sorry first, though I didn't +say anything, hardly.' + +'All right, let's get it over,' said Cyril, opening the +door.'Hi--you--Pussy!' + +Far away up the stairs a voice could be heard singing brokenly, but +still 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 not +give herself time to think this. She led the way up the stairs, taking +three at a time, and bounded to the level of Jane, who sat on the top +step of all, thumping her doll to the tune of the song she was trying to +sing. + +'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 the +youngest was entitled to this ceremonial. Anthea added a special apology +of her own. + +'I'm sorry if I was a pig, Pussy dear,' she said--'especially because +in my really and truly inside mind I've been feeling a little as if +I'd rather not go into the Past again either. But then, do think. If we +don't go we shan't get the Amulet, and oh, Pussy, think if we could only +get Father and Mother and The Lamb safe back! We MUST go, but we'll wait +a day or two if you like and then perhaps you'll feel braver.' + +'Raw meat makes you brave, however cowardly you are,' said Robert, to +show that there was now no ill-feeling, 'and cranberries--that's +what Tartars eat, and they're so brave it's simply awful. I suppose +cranberries are only for Christmas time, but I'll ask old Nurse to let +you have your chop very raw if you like.' + +'I think I could be brave without that,' said Jane hastily; she hated +underdone meat. 'I'll try.' + +At this moment the door of the learned gentleman's room opened, and he +looked out. + +'Excuse me,' he said, in that gentle, polite weary voice of his, 'but +was I mistaken in thinking that I caught a familiar word just now? Were +you not singing some old ballad of Babylon?' + +'No,' said Robert, 'at least Jane was singing "How many miles," but I +shouldn't have thought you could have heard the words for--' + +He would have said, 'for the sniffing,' but Anthea pinched him just in +time. + +'I did not hear ALL the words,' said the learned gentleman. 'I wonder +would 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 a +great and beautiful city, and the centre of learning and Art, and now +it is only ruins, and so covered up with earth that people are not even +agreed as to where it once stood.' + +He was leaning on the banisters, and his eyes had a far-away look in +them, as though he could see through the staircase window the splendour +and 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 have +been found in very early Egyptian tombs, yet their origin has not been +accurately determined as Egyptian. They may have been brought from Asia. +Or, supposing the charm to have been fashioned in Egypt, it might very +well have been carried to Babylon by some friendly embassy, or brought +back by the Babylonish army from some Egyptian campaign as part of the +spoils 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 once +used amid Babylonish surroundings.' The others looked at each other, but +it was Jane who spoke. + +'Were the Babylon people savages, were they always fighting and throwing +things about?' For she had read the thoughts of the others by the +unerring light of her own fears. + +'The Babylonians were certainly more gentle than the Assyrians,' said +the learned gentleman. 'And they were not savages by any means. A very +high level of culture,' he looked doubtfully at his audience and went +on, 'I mean that they made beautiful statues and jewellery, and +built splendid palaces. And they were very learned--they had glorious +libraries and high towers for the purpose of astrological and +astronomical observation.' + +'Er?' said Robert. + +'I mean for--star-gazing and fortune-telling,' said the learned +gentleman, 'and there were temples and beautiful hanging gardens--' + +'I'll go to Babylon if you like,' said Jane abruptly, and the others +hastened to say 'Done!' before she should have time to change her mind. + +'Ah,' said the learned gentleman, smiling rather sadly, 'one can go so +far in dreams, when one is young.' He sighed again, and then adding with +a laboured briskness, 'I hope you'll have a--a--jolly game,' he went +into his room and shut the door. + +'He said "jolly" as if it was a foreign language,' said Cyril. 'Come +on, let's get the Psammead and go now. I think Babylon seems a most +frightfully jolly place to go to.' + +So they woke the Psammead and put it in its bass-bag with the waterproof +sheet, in case of inclement weather in Babylon. It was very cross, but +it said it would as soon go to Babylon as anywhere else. 'The sand is +good 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 we +don'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 charm +could do nothing. + +'Ur--Hekau--Setcheh!' she said softly, and as she spoke the charm grew +into an arch so tall that the top of it was close against the bedroom +ceiling. Outside the arch was the bedroom painted chest-of-drawers +and the Kidderminster carpet, and the washhand-stand with the riveted +willow-pattern jug, and the faded curtains, and the dull light of +indoors on a wet day. Through the arch showed the gleam of soft green +leaves and white blossoms. They stepped forward quite happily. Even Jane +felt that this did not look like lions, and her hand hardly trembled +at 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-leafed +fruit-tree, in what seemed to be an orchard of such trees, all +white-flowered and green-foliaged. Among the long green grass under +their feet grew crocuses and lilies, and strange blue flowers. In the +branches overhead thrushes and blackbirds were singing, and the coo of a +pigeon 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 Jane +admitted 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 the +same even when people are killing each other. I didn't half like what +the learned gentleman said about the hanging gardens. I suppose they +have 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 gardens +hung 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 was +nothing but trees, and trees and more trees. At the end of their orchard +was another one, only separated from theirs by a little stream of +clear water. They jumped this, and went on. Cyril, who was fond of +gardening--which meant that he liked to watch the gardener at work--was +able to command the respect of the others by telling them the names of +a good many trees. There were nut-trees and almond-trees, and apricots, +and fig-trees with their big five-fingered leaves. And every now and +then the children had to cross another brook. + +'It's like between the squares in Through the Looking-glass,' said +Anthea. + +At last they came to an orchard which was quite different from the other +orchards. It had a low building in one corner. + +'These are vines,' said Cyril superiorly, 'and I know this is a +vineyard. I shouldn't wonder if there was a wine-press inside that place +over there.' + +At last they got out of the orchards and on to a sort of road, very +rough, and not at all like the roads you are used to. It had cypress +trees and acacia trees along it, and a sort of hedge of tamarisks, +like those you see on the road between Nice and Cannes, or near +Littlehampton, 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 green +orchards, and beyond these a great wall that shone red in the early +morning sun. The wall was enormously high--more than half the height of +St Paul's--and in the wall were set enormous gates that shone like gold +as the rising sun beat on them. Each gate had a solid square tower on +each side of it that stood out from the wall and rose above it. Beyond +the wall were more towers and houses, gleaming with gold and bright +colours. 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 river +flowed out from the town under a great arch in the wall. + +'Those feathery things along by the water are palms,' said Cyril +instructively. + +'Oh, yes; you know everything,' Robert replied. 'What's all that +grey-green stuff you see away over there, where it's all flat and +sandy?' + +'All right,' said Cyril loftily, '_I_ don't want to tell you anything. I +only 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 instantly +a little crowd of a dozen or more people came out and along the road +towards them. + +The children, with one accord, crouched behind the tamarisk hedge. + +'I don't like the sound of those gates,' said Jane. 'Fancy being inside +when they shut. You'd never get out.' + +'You've got an arch of your own to go out by,' the Psammead put its head +out of the basket to remind her. 'Don't behave so like a girl. If I were +you 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 it +pleased everyone. + +So when the work-people had passed (they WERE work-people, the children +felt sure, because they were dressed so plainly--just one long blue +shirt thing--of blue or yellow) the four children marched boldly up to +the brazen gate between the towers. The arch above the gate was quite a +tunnel, the walls were so thick. + +'Courage,' said Cyril. 'Step out. It's no use trying to sneak past. Be +bold!' + +Robert answered this appeal by unexpectedly bursting into 'The British +Grenadiers', 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 bright +armour 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 the +children were always able to understand the language of any place they +might happen to be in, and to be themselves understood. If not, I have +no time to explain it now.) + +'We come from very far,' said Cyril mechanically. 'From the Empire where +the sun never sets, and we want to see your King.' + +'If it's quite convenient,' amended Anthea. 'The King (may he live for +ever!),' said the gatekeeper, 'is gone to fetch home his fourteenth +wife. Where on earth have you come from not to know that?' + +'The Queen then,' said Anthea hurriedly, and not taking any notice of +the question as to where they had come from. + +'The Queen,' said the gatekeeper, '(may she live for ever!) gives +audience 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 less +interested in them than they could have thought possible. But the man +who had crossed spears with him to bar the children's way was more +human. + +'Let them go in and look about them,' he said. 'I'll wager my best sword +they've never seen anything to come near our little--village.' He said +it 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 of +his own. 'Let me off for a few minutes, Captain, and I'll take them +to my place and see if my good woman can't fit them up in something a +little less outlandish than their present rig. Then they can have a look +round 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 very +different from London. For one thing, everything in London seems to be +patched up out of odds and ends, but these houses seemed to have been +built by people who liked the same sort of things. Not that they were +all alike, for though all were squarish, they were of different sizes, +and decorated in all sorts of different ways, some with paintings in +bright colours, some with black and silver designs. There were terraces, +and gardens, and balconies, and open spaces with trees. Their guide took +them to a little house in a back street, where a kind-faced woman sat +spinning at the door of a very dark room. + +'Here,' he said, 'just lend these children a mantle each, so that they +can go about and see the place till the Queen's audience begins. You +leave that wool for a bit, and show them round if you like. I must be +off now.' + +The woman did as she was told, and the four children, wrapped in fringed +mantles, went with her all about the town, and oh! how I wish I had time +to tell you all that they saw. It was all so wonderfully different +from anything you have ever seen. For one thing, all the houses were +dazzlingly bright, and many of them covered with pictures. Some had +great creatures carved in stone at each side of the door. Then the +people--there were no black frock-coats and tall hats; no dingy coats +and skirts of good, useful, ugly stuffs warranted to wear. Everyone's +clothes were bright and beautiful with blue and scarlet and green and +gold. + +The market was brighter than you would think anything could be. There +were stalls for everything you could possibly want--and for a great many +things that if you wanted here and now, want would be your master. There +were pineapples and peaches in heaps--and stalls of crockery and glass +things, beautiful shapes and glorious colours, there were stalls for +necklaces, and clasps, and bracelets, and brooches, for woven stuffs, +and furs, and embroidered linen. The children had never seen half so +many beautiful things together, even at Liberty's. It seemed no time at +all 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 got +there it was more splendid than anything they had seen yet. + +For it was glowing with colours, and with gold and silver and black and +white--like some magnificent embroidery. Flight after flight of broad +marble steps led up to it, and at the edges of the stairs stood great +images, twenty times as big as a man--images of men with wings like +chain 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, and +the 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 was +massed by the vast door of the palace itself, where it stood glittering +like an impossibly radiant peacock in the noon-day sun. + +All sorts of people were passing up the steps to seek audience of the +Queen. Ladies in richly-embroidered dresses with fringy flounces, poor +folks 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 the +basket and whispered-- + +'I can't be bothered with queens. I'll go home with this lady. I'm sure +she'll get me some sand if you ask her to.' + +'Oh! don't leave us,' said Jane. The woman was giving some last +instructions in Court etiquette to Anthea, and did not hear Jane. + +'Don't be a little muff,' said the Psammead quite fiercely. 'It's not a +bit of good your having a charm. You never use it. If you want me you've +only 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 surprising +thing she had ever said in her life. + +Everyone opened its mouth without thinking of manners, and Anthea, who +was peeping into the Psammead's basket, saw that its mouth opened wider +than anybody's. + +'You needn't gawp like that,' Jane went on. 'I'm not going to be +bothered 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 the +Psammead 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't +you? And let me play with your little girls till the others have done +with the Queen.' + +'Surely I will, little heart!' said the woman. + +And then Anthea hurriedly stroked the Psammead and embraced Jane, who +took the woman's hand, and trotted contentedly away with the Psammead's +bag under the other arm. + +The others stood looking after her till she, the woman, and the basket +were lost in the many-coloured crowd. Then Anthea turned once more to +the 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 stood +amid the jostling petitioners of the Queen in their own English frocks +and coats and hats and boots. + +'We want to see the Queen,' said Cyril; 'we come from the far Empire +where 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. There +was a whispering, waiting pause. Then a big man, with a cleanly-shaven +face, beckoned them from the top of a flight of red marble steps. + +They went up; the boots of Robert clattering more than usual because he +was so nervous. A door swung open, a curtain was drawn back. A double +line of bowing forms in gorgeous raiment formed a lane that led to the +steps of the throne, and as the children advanced hurriedly there came +from the throne a voice very sweet and kind. + +'Three children from the land where the sun never sets! Let them draw +hither 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 a +splendid dream-lady, all gold and silver and jewels and snowy drift of +veils, was raising Anthea, and saying-- + +'Don't be frightened, I really am SO glad you came! The land where +the sun never sets! I am delighted to see you! I was getting quite too +dreadfully bored for anything!' + +And behind Anthea the kneeling Cyril whispered in the ears of the +respectful Robert-- + +'Bobs, don't say anything to Panther. It's no use upsetting her, but we +didn'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, of +course. 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 of +Babylon; 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 the +throne on to the marble steps that led up to it. + +'Just make yourselves comfortable there,' she said. 'I'm simply dying +to talk to you, and to hear all about your wonderful country and how you +got here, and everything, but I have to do justice every morning. Such a +bore, 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 public +sort of way, only in private.' 'Ah, yes,' said the Queen, 'I should +much prefer a private audience myself--much easier to manage. But public +opinion has to be considered. Doing justice is very hard work, even when +you're brought up to it.' + +'We don't do justice, but we have to do scales, Jane and me,' said +Anthea, '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 is +taking 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 into +before you do it?' + +'We aren't cut at all,' said Robert hastily. 'We couldn't sing if we +were. We'll show you afterwards.' + +'So you shall, and now sit quiet like dear children and hear me do +justice. The way I do it has always been admired. I oughtn't to say that +ought I? Sounds so conceited. But I don't mind with you, dears. Somehow +I feel as though I'd known you quite a long time already.' + +The Queen settled herself on her throne and made a signal to her +attendants. The children, whispering together among the cushions on the +steps 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 brother +had taken the money the father had left for her. The brother said it +was the uncle who had the money. There was a good deal of talk and the +children were growing rather bored, when the Queen suddenly clapped her +hands, and said-- + +'Put both the men in prison till one of them owns up that the other is +innocent.' + +'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 someone +does it. And you mustn't interrupt.' + +Then came a woman, in tears, with a torn veil and real ashes on her +head--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 your +beautiful 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 Spartan +boy,' whispered Robert. But the Queen ruled that nobody could have any +possible reason for owning a fox, and still less for stealing one. And +she did not believe that there were any foxes in Babylon; she, at any +rate, had never seen one. So the boy was released. + +The people came to the Queen about all sorts of family quarrels and +neighbourly misunderstandings--from a fight between brothers over the +division of an inheritance, to the dishonest and unfriendly conduct of +a 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 last +she clapped her hands quite suddenly and with extreme loudness, and +said-- + +'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 of +Babylon and her ladies. + +'There!' said the Queen, with a long sigh of relief. 'THAT'S over! I +couldn't have done another stitch of justice if you'd offered me the +crown 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 somehow +felt, were very, very thick, into a sort of garden courtyard. There were +thick shrubs closely planted, and roses were trained over trellises, and +made a pleasant shade--needed, indeed, for already the sun was as hot as +it is in England in August at the seaside. + +Slaves spread cushions on a low, marble terrace, and a big man with a +smooth face served cool drink in cups of gold studded with beryls. He +drank a little from the Queen's cup before handing it to her. + +'That's rather a nasty trick,' whispered Robert, who had been carefully +taught never to drink out of one of the nice, shiny, metal cups that are +chained to the London drinking fountains without first rinsing it out +thoroughly. + +The Queen overheard him. + +'Not at all,' said she. 'Ritti-Marduk is a very clean man. And one has +to have SOME ONE as taster, you know, because of poison.' + +The word made the children feel rather creepy; but Ritti-Marduk +had tasted all the cups, so they felt pretty safe. The drink was +delicious--very cold, and tasting like lemonade and partly like penny +ices. + +'Leave us,' said the Queen. And all the Court ladies, in their +beautiful, many-folded, many-coloured, fringed dresses, filed out +slowly, 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 Queen +of India was when you told her all about us?' + +Cyril muttered that it was all very well, and so it was. For when he had +told the tale of the Phoenix and the Carpet to the Ranee, it had been +only the truth--and all the truth that he had to tell. But now it +was not easy to tell a convincing story without mentioning the +Amulet--which, of course, it wouldn't have done to mention--and without +owning that they were really living in London, about 2,500 years later +than the time they were talking in. + +Cyril took refuge in the tale of the Psammead and its wonderful power of +making wishes come true. The children had never been able to tell anyone +before, and Cyril was surprised to find that the spell which kept them +silent in London did not work here. 'Something to do with our being in +the Past, I suppose,' he said to himself. + +'This is MOST interesting,' said the Queen. 'We must have this Psammead +for the banquet tonight. Its performance will be one of the most popular +turns in the whole programme. Where is it?' + +Anthea explained that they did not know; also why it was that they did +not know. + +'Oh, THAT'S quite simple,' said the Queen, and everyone breathed a deep +sigh of relief as she said it. + +'Ritti-Marduk shall run down to the gates and find out which guard your +sister went home with.' + +'Might he'--Anthea's voice was tremulous--'might he--would it interfere +with 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 his +meals at any time,' said the Queen heartily, and clapped her hands. + +'May I send a letter?' asked Cyril, pulling out a red-backed penny +account-book, and feeling in his pockets for a stump of pencil that he +knew was in one of them. + +'By all means. I'll call my scribe.' + +'Oh, I can scribe right enough, thanks,' said Cyril, finding the pencil +and licking its point. He even had to bite the wood a little, for it was +very blunt. + +'Oh, you clever, clever boy!' said the Queen. 'DO let me watch you do +it!' + +Cyril wrote on a leaf of the book--it was of rough, woolly paper, with +hairs that stuck out and would have got in his pen if he had been using +one, and ruled for accounts. + +'Hide IT most carefully before you come here,' he wrote, 'and don't +mention it--and destroy this letter. Everything is going A1. The Queen +is a fair treat. There's nothing to be afraid of.' + +'What curious characters, and what a strange flat surface!' said the +Queen. 'What have you inscribed?' + +'I've 'scribed,' replied Cyril cautiously, 'that you are fair, and +a--and like a--like a festival; and that she need not be afraid, and +that 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 took +the letter, with some reluctance. + +'O Queen, live for ever! Is it a charm?' he timidly asked. 'A strong +charm, most great lady?' + +'YES,' said Robert, unexpectedly, 'it IS a charm, but it won't hurt +anyone 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 strong +as--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 the +charm. You needn't be afraid if you go now.' + +Ritti-Marduk went, seeming only partly satisfied; and then the Queen +began to admire the penny account-book and the bit of pencil in so +marked and significant a way that Cyril felt he could not do less than +press them upon her as a gift. She ruffled the leaves delightedly. + +'What a wonderful substance!' she said. 'And with this style you make +charms? 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, and +Mr 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 her +gown. + +'You shall teach me later to say the great names,' she said. 'And the +names of their Ministers--perhaps the great Nisroch is one of them?' + +'I don't think so,' said Cyril. 'Mr Campbell Bannerman's Prime Minister +and Mr Burns a Minister, and so is the Archbishop of Canterbury, I +think, 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's +going round with all those great names. You shall teach them to me +later--because of course you'll make us a nice long visit now you have +come, won't you? Now tell me--but no, I am quite tired out with your +being 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",' said +the Queen gently. + +'I beg your pardon,' Anthea hastened to say--'the King +may-he-live-for-ever has gone to fetch home his fourteenth wife? I don't +think even Bluebeard had as many as that. And, besides, he hasn't killed +YOU at any rate.' + +The Queen looked bewildered. + +'She means,' explained Robert, 'that English kings only have one +wife--at least, Henry the Eighth had seven or eight, but not all at +once.' + +'In our country,' said the Queen scornfully, 'a king would not reign +a day who had only one wife. No one would respect him, and quite right +too.' + +'Then are all the other thirteen alive?' asked Anthea. + +'Of course they are--poor mean-spirited things! I don't associate with +them, 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 been +about this last wife! You never did! It really was TOO funny. We wanted +an Egyptian princess. The King may-he-live-for-ever has got a wife from +most of the important nations, and he had set his heart on an Egyptian +one to complete his collection. Well, of course, to begin with, we +sent a handsome present of gold. The Egyptian king sent back some +horses--quite a few; he's fearfully stingy!--and he said he liked the +gold very much, but what they were really short of was lapis lazuli, so +of course we sent him some. But by that time he'd begun to use the gold +to cover the beams of the roof of the Temple of the Sun-God, and he +hadn't nearly enough to finish the job, so we sent some more. And so it +went 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 of +the story. + +'Well, then,' said the Queen, 'when he'd got everything out of us that +he could, and only given the meanest presents in return, he sent to +say he would esteem the honour of an alliance very highly, only +unfortunately he hadn't any daughter, but he hoped one would be born +soon, and if so, she should certainly be reserved for the King of +Babylon!' + +'What a trick!' said Cyril. + +'Yes, wasn't it? So then we said his sister would do, and then there +were 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 gone +seven days' journey to meet her at Carchemish. And he's gone in his best +chariot, the one inlaid with lapis lazuli and gold, with the gold-plated +wheels 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 her +arrival. SHE won't be present, of course. She'll be having her baths and +her anointings, and all that sort of thing. We always clean our foreign +brides 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. On +these they sat and low tables were brought--beautiful tables of smooth, +blue stone mounted in gold. On these, golden trays were placed; but +there were no knives, or forks, or spoons. The children expected the +Queen to call for them; but no. She just ate with her fingers, and as +the first dish was a great tray of boiled corn, and meat and raisins all +mixed up together, and melted fat poured all over the tray, it was found +difficult to follow her example with anything like what we are used to +think of as good table manners. There were stewed quinces afterwards, +and dates in syrup, and thick yellowy cream. It was the kind of dinner +you 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 off +and 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 course +they wouldn't announce her unless I told them to, except during justice +hours. 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. The +beast 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 say +they have a clue. No doubt we shall have news of her in a few weeks.' He +bowed and withdrew. + +The horror of this threefold loss--Jane, the Psammead, and the +Amulet--gave the children something to talk about while the Queen was +dressing. I shall not report their conversation; it was very gloomy. +Everyone repeated himself several times, and the discussion ended in +each of them blaming the other two for having let Jane go. You know the +sort 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 is +jolly 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 was +delicious, were heavily oiled all over, including their hair, and that +was most unpleasant. Then, they dressed again and were presented to the +King, who was most affable. The banquet was long; there were all sorts +of nice things to eat, and everybody seemed to eat and drink a good +deal. Everyone lay on cushions and couches, ladies on one side and +gentlemen on the other; and after the eating was done each lady went and +sat by some gentleman, who seemed to be her sweetheart or her husband, +for they were very affectionate to each other. The Court dresses had +gold threads woven in them, very bright and beautiful. + +The middle of the room was left clear, and different people came and did +amusing 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 oil +blazed in copper dishes set high on poles. + +Then there was a dancer, who hardly danced at all, only just struck +attitudes. She had hardly any clothes, and was not at all pretty. The +children 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 you +shall have it!' + +'I want nothing,' said the dancer; 'the honour of having pleased the +King may-he-live-for-ever is reward enough for me.' + +And the King was so pleased with this modest and sensible reply that he +gave 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 any +means. We always keep a stock of cheap jewellery for these occasions. +And now--you promised to sing us something. Would you like my minstrels +to accompany you?' + +'No, thank you,' said Anthea quickly. The minstrels had been playing off +and on all the time, and their music reminded Anthea of the band she and +the 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 toy +drum. They had enjoyed this band very much at the time. But it was quite +different when someone else was making the same kind of music. +Anthea understood now that Father had not been really heartless and +unreasonable 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 lady +in the song, never could 'keep the key', but the song, even so, was +sufficiently unlike anything any of them had ever heard to rouse the +Babylonian Court to the wildest enthusiasm. + +'More, more,' cried the King; 'by my beard, this savage music is a new +thing. 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 would +not be satisfied till they had sung all their part-songs (they only knew +three) twice over, and ended up with 'Men of Harlech' in unison. Then +the King stood up in his royal robes with his high, narrow crown on his +head and shouted-- + +'By the beak of Nisroch, ask what you will, strangers from the land +where the sun never sets!' + +'We ought to say it's enough honour, like the dancer did,' whispered +Anthea. + +'No, let's ask for IT,' said Robert. + +'No, no, I'm sure the other's manners,' said Anthea. But Robert, who was +excited by the music, and the flaring torches, and the applause and the +opportunity, spoke up before the others could stop him. + +'Give us the half of the Amulet that has on it the name UR HEKAU +SETCHEH,' he said, adding as an afterthought, 'O King, live-for-ever.' + +As he spoke the great name those in the pillared hall fell on their +faces, and lay still. All but the Queen who crouched amid her cushions +with her head in her hands, and the King, who stood upright, perfectly +still, like the statue of a king in stone. It was only for a moment +though. Then his great voice thundered out-- + +'Guard, seize them!' + +Instantly, from nowhere as it seemed, sprang eight soldiers in bright +armour inlaid with gold, and tunics of red and white. Very splendid they +were, and very alarming. + +'Impious and sacrilegious wretches!' shouted the King. 'To the dungeons +with them! We will find a way, tomorrow, to make them speak. For without +doubt 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 the +children 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 Anthea +desperately. + +They could not see where they were going, because the guard surrounded +them so closely, but the ground under their feet, smooth marble at +first, grew rougher like stone, then it was loose earth and sand, and +they 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 the +castle moat this time,' said Cyril. + +And they were. At least it was not below a moat, but below the river +Euphrates, which was just as bad if not worse. In a most unpleasant +place it was. Dark, very, very damp, and with an odd, musty smell rather +like the shells of oysters. There was a torch--that is to say, a copper +basket on a high stick with oiled wood burning in it. By its light the +children saw that the walls were green, and that trickles of water ran +down them and dripped from the roof. There were things on the floor that +looked like newts, and in the dark corners creepy, shiny things moved +sluggishly, uneasily, horribly. + +Robert's heart sank right into those really reliable boots of +his. Anthea and Cyril each had a private struggle with that inside +disagreeableness which is part of all of us, and which is sometimes +called the Old Adam--and both were victors. Neither of them said to +Robert (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 she +resisted it successfully. + +'Sacrilege, and impious cheek,' said the captain of the guard to the +gaoler. 'To be kept during the King's pleasure. I expect he means to get +some 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 it +doesn'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 and +gold. The gaoler, with a bunch of big keys in his hand, stood looking +pityingly 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 dream +REALLY, you know. It MUST be! I don't believe about time being only a +something or other of thought. It IS a dream, and we're bound to wake up +all 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 on +me about it, and tell Father--Oh, I forgot.' + +What he had forgotten was that his father was 3,000 miles and 5,000 or +more years away from him. + +'All right, Bobs, old man,' said Cyril; and Anthea got hold of Robert's +hand and squeezed it. + +Then the gaoler came back with a platter of hard, flat cakes made of +coarse grain, very different from the cream-and-juicy-date feasts of the +palace; 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 us +tomorrow?' + +'They'll try to make you tell things,' said the gaoler grimly, 'and my +advice is if you've nothing to tell, make up something. Then perhaps +they'll sell you to the Northern nations. Regular savages THEY are. Good +night.' + +'Good night,' said three trembling voices, which their owners strove in +vain to render firm. Then he went out, and the three were left alone in +the damp, dim vault. + +'I know the light won't last long,' said Cyril, looking at the +flickering brazier. + +'Is it any good, do you think, calling on the name when we haven't got +the charm?' suggested Anthea. + +'I shouldn't think so. But we might try.' + +So they tried. But the blank silence of the damp dungeon remained +unchanged. + +'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 the +muscles of her mind and soul, if you can call them that, tightened too. + +'UR HEKAU SETCHEH,' she cried in a fervent voice. 'Oh, Nisroch, servant +of the Great Ones, come and help us!' + +There was a waiting silence. Then a cold, blue light awoke in the corner +where the straw was--and in the light they saw coming towards them a +strange and terrible figure. I won't try to describe it, because the +drawing shows it, exactly as it was, and exactly as the old Babylonians +carved it on their stones, so that you can see it in our own British +Museum at this day. I will just say that it had eagle's wings and an +eagle'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 of +the dungeon. + +'Speak,' it said, in a harsh, grating voice like large rusty keys being +turned in locks. 'The servant of the Great Ones is YOUR servant. What is +your 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 hangings +of red silk embroidered with golden water-lilies, with cushioned couches +and great mirrors of polished steel; and in it was the Queen, and +before her, on a red pillow, sat the Psammead, its fur hunched up in +an irritated, discontented way. On a blue-covered couch lay Jane fast +asleep. + +'Walk forward without fear,' said Nisroch. 'Is there aught else that the +Servant 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 was +saying. '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. 'How +did you get here? I KNEW you were magic. I meant to let you out the +first thing in the morning, if I could slip away--but thanks be to +Dagon, you've managed it for yourselves. You must get away. I'll wake +my chief lady and she shall call Ritti-Marduk, and he'll let you out the +back way, and--' + +'Don't rouse anybody for goodness' sake,' said Anthea, 'except Jane, and +I'll rouse her.' + +She shook Jane with energy, and Jane slowly awoke. + +'Ritti-Marduk brought them in hours ago, really,' said the Queen, 'but +I wanted to have the Psammead all to myself for a bit. You'll excuse the +little natural deception?--it's part of the Babylonish character, don't +you know? But I don't want anything to happen to you. Do let me rouse +someone.' + +'No, no, no,' said Anthea with desperate earnestness. She thought she +knew 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 the +gaoler'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 plate +of sand down for the Psammead.' + +Jane went. + +'Look here!' he said quickly, as the sound of her boots grew less loud +on 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 a +word to save her life. + +'Why did you want to come back in such a hurry?' asked Jane, returning +with the plate of sand. 'It was awfully jolly in Babylon, I think! I +liked it no end.' + +'Oh, yes,' said Cyril carelessly. 'It was jolly enough, of course, but I +thought we'd been there long enough. Mother always says you oughtn't to +wear out your welcome!' + + + +CHAPTER 8. THE QUEEN IN LONDON + +'Now tell us what happened to you,' said Cyril to Jane, when he and the +others had told her all about the Queen's talk and the banquet, and the +variety entertainment, carefully stopping short before the beginning of +the dungeon part of the story. + +'It wasn't much good going,' said Jane, 'if you didn't even try to get +the 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 us +about your part.' + +'Oh,' said Jane, 'the Queen's man with the smooth face--what was his +name?' + +'Ritti-Marduk,' said Cyril. + +'Yes,' said Jane, 'Ritti-Marduk, he came for me just after the Psammead +had bitten the guard-of-the-gate's wife's little boy, and he took me to +the Palace. And we had supper with the new little Queen from Egypt. She +is a dear--not much older than you. She told me heaps about Egypt. And +we played ball after supper. And then the Babylon Queen sent for me. I +like her too. And she talked to the Psammead and I went to sleep. And +then 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 could +give wishes? I sometimes think you were born without even the most +rudimentary imitation of brains.' + +The children did not know the meaning of rudimentary, but it sounded a +rude, 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 course +not! Quite the contrary! Exactly so! Only she happened to wish that she +might soon find herself in your country. And soon may mean any moment.' + +'Then it's your fault,' said Robert, 'because you might just as well +have made "soon" mean some moment next year or next century.' + +'That's where you, as so often happens, make the mistake,' rejoined the +Sand-fairy. '_I_ couldn't mean anything but what SHE meant by "soon". It +wasn't my wish. And what SHE meant was the next time the King happens to +go out lion hunting. So she'll have a whole day, and perhaps two, to +do as she wishes with. SHE doesn't know about time only being a mode of +thought.' + +'Well,' said Cyril, with a sigh of resignation, 'we must do what we can +to give her a good time. She was jolly decent to us. I say, suppose we +were to go to St James's Park after dinner and feed those ducks that we +never did feed. After all that Babylon and all those years ago, I +feel 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 Psammead +morosely. '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 the +hurry of departure from Babylon, not been remembered. + +'But it's not so extra precious,' said Robert hastily. 'You can get them +given to you for nothing if you buy fish in Farringdon Market.' + +'Oh,' said the Psammead very crossly indeed, 'so you presume on my +sublime indifference to the things of this disgusting modern world, to +fob 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 yard +from each of their best green Liberty sashes. A towel cut in two formed +a lining; and they sat and sewed and sewed and sewed. What they were +making 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 the +only things she could do (because she had been taught how at school, +and, fortunately, some of the silk she had been taught with was left +over). And even so, Anthea had to draw the pattern for her. Anthea's +side of the bag had letters on it--worked hastily but affectionately in +chain stitch. They were something like this: + +PSAMS TRAVEL CAR + +She would have put 'travelling carriage', but she made the letters too +big, so there was no room. The bag was made INTO a bag with old Nurse's +sewing machine, and the strings of it were Anthea's and Jane's best +red hair ribbons. At tea-time, when the boys had come home with a most +unfavourable report of the St james's Park ducks, Anthea ventured to +awaken the Psammead, and to show it its new travelling bag. + +'Humph,' it said, sniffing a little contemptuously, yet at the same time +affectionately, 'it's not so dusty.' + +The Psammead seemed to pick up very easily the kind of things that +people said nowadays. For a creature that had in its time associated +with Megatheriums and Pterodactyls, its quickness was really wonderful. + +'It's more worthy of me,' it said, 'than the kind of bag that's given +away 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. But +Jane said-- + +'I want to go to Egypt. I did like that Egyptian Princess that came +to marry the King in Babylon. She told me about the larks they have in +Egypt. And the cats. Do let's go there. And I told her what the bird +things on the Amulet were like. And she said it was Egyptian writing.' + +The others exchanged looks of silent rejoicing at the thought of their +cleverness in having concealed from Jane the terrors they had suffered +in the dungeon below the Euphrates. + +'Egypt's so nice too,' Jane went on, 'because of Doctor Brewer's +Scripture History. I would like to go there when Joseph was dreaming +those curious dreams, or when Moses was doing wonderful things with +snakes 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 had +cream and sweet, sticky stuff. And I expect Egypt's the same.' + +There was a good deal of discussion, but it all ended in everybody's +agreeing to Jane's idea. And next morning directly after breakfast +(which was kippers and very nice) the Psammead was invited to get into +his travelling carriage. + +The moment after it had done so, with stiff, furry reluctance, like that +of a cat when you want to nurse it, and its ideas are not the same as +yours, 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're +just going off to see some old ancient relics.' + +'Ah,' said old Nurse, 'the Royal Academy, I suppose? Don't go wasting +your money too reckless, that's all.' + +She cleared away the kipper bones and the tea-things, and when she had +swept up the crumbs and removed the cloth, the Amulet was held up and +the order given--just as Duchesses (and other people) give it to their +coachmen. + +'To Egypt, please!' said Anthea, when Cyril had uttered the wonderful +Name of Power. + +'When Moses was there,' added Jane. + +And there, in the dingy Fitzroy Street dining-room, the Amulet grew +big, and it was an arch, and through it they saw a blue, blue sky and a +running river. + +'No, stop!' said Cyril, and pulled down jane's hand with the Amulet in +it. + +'What silly cuckoos we all are,' he said. 'Of course we can't go. We +daren't leave home for a single minute now, for fear that minute should +be THE minute.' + +'What minute be WHAT minute?' asked Jane impatiently, trying to get her +hand away from Cyril. + +'The minute when the Queen of Babylon comes,' said Cyril. And then +everyone 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 knew +when the King of Babylon would go out lion hunting and leave his Queen +free 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 the +new interest taken in them by the learned gentleman. + +He called Anthea in one day to show her a beautiful necklace of purple +and 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 Anthea +cautiously. + +'A pretty fancy,' said the learned gentleman, 'and quite correct too, +because, as a matter of fact, these beads did come from Babylon.' The +other 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 rhinoceroses +than 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 where +Fitzroy Street suddenly becomes Fitzroy Square. + +'I think Babylon is most frightfully interesting,' said Anthea. 'I do +have such interesting dreams about it--at least, not dreams exactly, but +quite as wonderful.' + +'Do sit down and tell me,' said he. So she sat down and told. And he +asked her a lot of questions, and she answered them as well as she +could. + +'Wonderful--wonderful!' he said at last. 'One's heard of +thought-transference, but I never thought _I_ had any power of that +sort. Yet it must be that, and very bad for YOU, I should think. Doesn't +your 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 I +know a good deal about Babylon, and I unconsciously communicate it to +you; 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 so +astoundingly probable.' + +'It's all right,' said Anthea reassuringly. '_I_ understand. And don't +worry. It's all quite simple really.' + +It was not quite so simple when Anthea, having heard the others come +in, went down, and before she had had time to ask how they had liked the +Zoo, heard a noise outside, compared to which the wild beasts' noises +were gentle as singing birds. + +'Good gracious!' cried Anthea, 'what's that?' + +The loud hum of many voices came through the open window. Words could be +distinguished. + +''Ere's a guy!' + +'This ain't November. That ain't no guy. It's a ballet lady, that's what +it 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 foreign +lingo,' 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 the +steps, 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 marrows +on a handcart. + +All the same the crowd made way a little. The Queen met Robert on the +pavement, 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,' said +Robert; 'but it's no use my wishing anything.' + +'No,' said the Queen. 'I wish I was dressed--no, I don't--I wish THEY +were 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 had +not enough clothes on. For, of course, the Queen's idea of proper dress +was the dress that had been proper for the working-classes 3,000 years +ago in Babylon--and there was not much of it. + +'Lawky me!' said the marrow-selling woman, 'whatever could a-took me +to come out this figure?' and she wheeled her cart away very quickly +indeed. + +'Someone's made a pretty guy of you--talk of guys,' said a man who sold +bootlaces. + +'Well, don't you talk,' said the man next to him. 'Look at your own +silly legs; and where's your boots?' + +'I never come out like this, I'll take my sacred,' said the +bootlace-seller. 'I wasn't quite myself last night, I'll own, but not to +dress up like a circus.' + +The crowd was all talking at once, and getting rather angry. But no one +seemed 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'm +off home, I am.' + +And the crowd, coming slowly to the same mind, dispersed, followed by +another crowd of persons who were not dressed in what the Queen thought +was the proper way. + +'We shall have the police here directly,' said Anthea in the tones of +despair. '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, 'that +you don't seem very glad to see me now I HAVE come. But perhaps it's the +surprise that makes you behave like this. Yet you ought to be used to +surprises. The way you vanished! I shall never forget it. The best magic +I've ever seen. How did you do it?' + +'Oh, never mind about that now,' said Robert. 'You see you've gone and +upset all those people, and I expect they'll fetch the police. And we +don'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 it +with your own hands.' + +The girls shuddered. + +'What a hideous city yours is,' the Queen went on pleasantly, 'and what +horrid, ignorant people. Do you know they actually can't understand a +single word I say.' + +'Can you understand them?' asked Jane. + +'Of course not; they speak some vulgar, Northern dialect. I can +understand YOU quite well.' + +I really am not going to explain AGAIN how it was that the children +could understand other languages than their own so thoroughly, and talk +them, too, so that it felt and sounded (to them) just as though they +were 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 simply +nothing yet,' said the Queen, arranging her starry veil. 'I wished to be +at 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 take +you and show you anything you'd like to see--anything you CAN see,' she +added kindly, because she remembered how nice the Queen had been to them +in Babylon, even if she had been a little deceitful in the matter of +Jane and Psammead. + +'There's the Museum,' said Cyril hopefully; 'there are lots of things +from your country there. If only we could disguise you a little.' + +'I know,' said Anthea suddenly. 'Mother's old theatre cloak, and there +are a lot of her old hats in the big box.' + +The blue silk, lace-trimmed cloak did indeed hide some of the Queen's +startling splendours, but the hat fitted very badly. It had pink roses +in 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 is +to get her out before Nurse has finished her forty winks. I should think +she's about got to the thirty-ninth wink by now.' + +'Come on then,' said Robert. 'You know how dangerous it is. Let's make +haste into the Museum. If any of those people you made guys of do fetch +the police, they won't think of looking for you there.' + +The blue silk coat and the pink-rosed hat attracted almost as much +attention as the royal costume had done; and the children were +uncommonly glad to get out of the noisy streets into the grey quiet of +the 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 containing +the Psammead, which the Queen had insisted should be brought. + +'I'M not going to be left,' said the Psammead softly, 'so don't you +think it.' + +'I'll wait outside with you,' said Anthea hastily, and went to sit on +the seat near the drinking fountain. + +'Don't sit so near that nasty fountain,' said the creature crossly; 'I +might get splashed.' + +Anthea obediently moved to another seat and waited. Indeed she waited, +and waited, and waited, and waited, and waited. The Psammead dropped +into an uneasy slumber. Anthea had long ceased to watch the swing-door +that 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 come +back, and that they were not alone. Behind them was quite a crowd of +men in uniform, and several gentlemen were there. Everyone seemed very +angry. + +'Now go,' said the nicest of the angry gentlemen. 'Take the poor, +demented thing home and tell your parents she ought to be properly +looked after.' + +'If you can't get her to go we must send for the police,' said the +nastiest gentleman. + +'But we don't wish to use harsh measures,' added the nice one, who was +really 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 and +earrings and things in the glass cases were all hers--would have them +out 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 by +telling 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. I +meant MUMMY queens. How do you know they don't cut off mummies' heads to +see how the embalming is done? What I want to say is, can't you get her +to 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 much +nicer 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 is +not Babylonian, but nonsense. You just go home at once, and tell your +parents exactly what has happened.' + +Anthea took the Queen's hand and gently pulled her away. The other +children followed, and the black crowd of angry gentlemen stood on the +steps watching them. It was when the little party of disgraced children, +with the Queen who had disgraced them, had reached the middle of the +courtyard that her eyes fell on the bag where the Psammead was. She +stopped short. + +'I wish,' she said, very loud and clear, 'that all those Babylonian +things would come out to me here--slowly, so that those dogs and slaves +can see the working of the great Queen's magic.' + +'Oh, you ARE a tiresome woman,' said the Psammead in its bag, but it +puffed itself out. + +Next moment there was a crash. The glass swing doors and all their +framework were smashed suddenly and completely. The crowd of angry +gentlemen sprang aside when they saw what had done this. + +But the nastiest of them was not quick enough, and he was roughly pushed +out of the way by an enormous stone bull that was floating steadily +through the door. It came and stood beside the Queen in the middle of +the 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 like +rolling pins with marks on them like the print of little bird-feet, +necklaces, collars, rings, armlets, earrings--heaps and heaps and +heaps of things, far more than anyone had time to count, or even to see +distinctly. + +All the angry gentlemen had abruptly sat down on the Museum steps except +the nice one. He stood with his hands in his pockets just as though +he was quite used to seeing great stone bulls and all sorts of small +Babylonish 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 he +passed. + +'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 edition +within 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 sellers +of newspapers. Some few people who had nothing better to do went down +to the Museum on the tops of omnibuses. But by the time they got there +there was nothing to be seen. For the Babylonian Queen had suddenly seen +the 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 shall +have to work at politics. Why wouldn't you leave the things in their +places?' + +'What a temper you have, haven't you?' said the Queen serenely. 'I wish +all 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 I +will if this goes on. Now then.' + +'Ah, don't,' whispered Anthea close to its bristling ear; 'it's dreadful +for us too. Don't YOU desert us. Perhaps she'll wish herself at home +again 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't +notice 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 in +prison.' + +'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 in +her 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 his +hand. '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; and +I'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 for +her,' said Anthea. + +'I sometimes think,' he said slowly, 'that I am becoming insane, or +that--' + +'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,' he +said. 'I suppose I have unconsciously influenced HER, too. I never +thought 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_ want +more than anything on earth.' + +He ran his fingers through his thin hair. + +'This thought-transference!' he said. 'It's undoubtedly a Babylonian +ring--or it seems so to me. But perhaps I have hypnotized myself. I will +see 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 Babylon +beheld the wonders of London. Buckingham Palace she thought +uninteresting; Westminster Abbey and the Houses of Parliament little +better. But she liked the Tower, and the River, and the ships filled her +with wonder and delight. + +'But how badly you keep your slaves. How wretched and poor and neglected +they 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 difficult +to explain in three words even if you understand it--which the children +didn't. + +'You'll have a revolt of your slaves if you're not careful,' said the +Queen. + +'Oh, no,' said Cyril; 'you see they have votes--that makes them safe not +to revolt. It makes all the difference. Father told me so.' + +'What is this vote?' asked the Queen. 'Is it a charm? What do they do +with 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 all +these slaves may have in their hands this moment their fill of their +favourite meat and drink.' + +Instantly all the people in the Mile End Road, and in all the other +streets where poor people live, found their hands full of things to eat +and drink. From the cab window could be seen persons carrying every kind +of food, and bottles and cans as well. Roast meat, fowls, red lobsters, +great yellowy crabs, fried fish, boiled pork, beef-steak puddings, baked +onions, mutton pies; most of the young people had oranges and sweets +and cake. It made an enormous change in the look of the Mile End +Road--brightened it up, so to speak, and brightened up, more than you +can 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 a +mound of cabbage, with pork chops and apple sauce, a duck, and a spotted +currant pudding. Also a large can. + +'You pay me my fare,' he said threateningly, and looked down at the +mound, muttering again about his tea. + +'We'll take another cab,' said Cyril with dignity. 'Give me change for a +sovereign, if you please.' + +But the cabman, as it turned out, was not at all a nice character. He +took the sovereign, whipped up his horse, and disappeared in the stream +of 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 many +gentlemen in black coats and without hats were standing about on the +pavement talking very loudly. + +'How ugly their clothes are,' said the Queen of Babylon. 'They'd be +rather fine men, some of them, if they were dressed decently, especially +the ones with the beautiful long, curved noses. I wish they were dressed +like the Babylonians of my court.' + +And of course, it was so. + +The moment the almost fainting Psammead had blown itself out every man +in Throgmorton Street appeared abruptly in Babylonian full dress. + +All were carefully powdered, their hair and beards were scented and +curled, 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 chaps +do look so rum.' + +'Rum,' said his friend. 'Look at YOU. You in a sash! My hat! And your +hair's gone black and you've got a beard. It's my belief we've been +poisoned. You do look a jackape.' + +'Old Levinstein don't look so bad. But how was it DONE--that's what I +want to know. How was it done? Is it conjuring, or what?' + +'I think it is chust a ver' bad tream,' said old Levinstein to his +clerk; 'all along Bishopsgate I haf seen the gommon people have their +hants 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 legs +with an expression of loathing. 'I see my feet in beastly sandals as +plain as plain.' + +'All that goot food wasted,' said old Mr Levinstein. A bad tream--a bad +tream.' + +The Members of the Stock Exchange are said to be at all times a noisy +lot. But the noise they made now to express their disgust at the +costumes of ancient Babylon was far louder than their ordinary row. One +had to shout before one could hear oneself speak. + +'I only wish,' said the clerk who thought it was conjuring--he was quite +close to the children and they trembled, because they knew that whatever +he wished would come true. 'I only wish we knew who'd done it.' + +And, of course, instantly they did know, and they pressed round the +Queen. + +'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 the +thousand. What is it that they say?' + +'They say "Police!",' said Cyril briefly. 'I knew they would sooner or +later. And I don't blame them, mind you.' + +'I wish my guards were here!' cried the Queen. The exhausted Psammead +was panting and trembling, but the Queen's guards in red and green +garments, and brass and iron gear, choked Throgmorton Street, and bared +weapons 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 you +were too hard in that matter of Flowerdew. It's a judgement, and I'm in +it too.' + +The members of the Stock Exchange had edged carefully away from the +gleaming blades, the mailed figures, the hard, cruel Eastern faces. + +But Throgmorton Street is narrow, and the crowd was too thick for them +to 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 behind +his clerk. + +'It isn't,' said the clerk. 'It isn't. Oh, my good gracious! those +foreign brutes are killing everybody. Henry Hirsh is down now, and +Prentice is cut in two--oh, Lord! and Huth, and there goes Lionel Cohen +with his head off, and Guy Nickalls has lost his head now. A dream? I +wish to goodness it was all a dream.' + +And, of course, instantly it was! The entire Stock Exchange rubbed its +eyes and went back to close, to over, and either side of seven-eights, +and Trunks, and Kaffirs, and Steel Common, and Contangoes, and +Backwardations, Double Options, and all the interesting subjects +concerning which they talk in the Street without ceasing. + +No one said a word about it to anyone else. I think I have explained +before that business men do not like it to be known that they have +been dreaming in business hours. Especially mad dreams including such +dreadful things as hungry people getting dinners, and the destruction of +the Stock Exchange. + + +The children were in the dining-room at 300, Fitzroy Street, pale and +trembling. The Psammead crawled out of the embroidered bag, and lay flat +on the table, its leg stretched out, looking more like a dead hare than +anything 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 whole +precious pound on her. It'll take all our pocket-money for ages to pay +that 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 he +lent you anything.' + +'I beg your pardon,' said Anthea politely, following the sound of her +knock into the presence of the learned gentleman, 'I'm so sorry to +trouble you, but DID you lend me a pound today?' + +'No,' said he, looking kindly at her through his spectacles. 'But it's +extraordinary that you should ask me, for I dozed for a few moments this +afternoon, a thing I very rarely do, and I dreamed quite distinctly that +you 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's +rings here. The ring was a magnificent specimen.' He sighed. 'I wish it +hadn't been a dream,' he said smiling. He was really learning to smile +quite nicely. + +Anthea could not be too thankful that the Psammead was not there to +grant his wish. + + + +CHAPTER 9. ATLANTIS + +You will understand that the adventure of the Babylonian queen in London +was the only one that had occupied any time at all. But the children's +time was very fully taken up by talking over all the wonderful things +seen and done in the Past, where, by the power of the Amulet, they +seemed to spend hours and hours, only to find when they got back to +London that the whole thing had been briefer than a lightning flash. + +They talked of the Past at their meals, in their walks, in the +dining-room, in the first-floor drawing-room, but most of all on the +stairs. It was an old house; it had once been a fashionable one, and was +a fine one still. The banister rails of the stairs were excellent for +sliding down, and in the corners of the landings were big alcoves that +had once held graceful statues, and now quite often held the graceful +forms of Cyril, Robert, Anthea, and Jane. + +One day Cyril and Robert in tight white underclothing had spent a +pleasant hour in reproducing the attitudes of statues seen either in the +British Museum, or in Father's big photograph book. But the show ended +abruptly because Robert wanted to be the Venus of Milo, and for this +purpose pulled at the sheet which served for drapery at the very moment +when Cyril, looking really quite like the Discobolos--with a gold and +white saucer for the disc--was standing on one foot, and under that one +foot was the sheet. + +Of course the Discobolos and his disc and the would-be Venus came down +together, and everyone was a good deal hurt, especially the saucer, +which would never be the same again, however neatly one might join its +uneven bits with Seccotine or the white of an egg. + +'I hope you're satisfied,' said Cyril, holding his head where a large +lump was rising. + +'Quite, thanks,' said Robert bitterly. His thumb had caught in the +banisters and bent itself back almost to breaking point. + +'I AM so sorry, poor, dear Squirrel,' said Anthea; 'and you were looking +so lovely. I'll get a wet rag. Bobs, go and hold your hand under the +hot-water tap. It's what ballet girls do with their legs when they hurt +them. 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 he +had been brought to the state of mind where he was able reluctantly to +admit that he supposed Robert hadn't done it on purpose. + +Robert replying with equal suavity, Anthea hastened to lead the talk +away from the accident. + +'I suppose you don't feel like going anywhere through the Amulet,' she +said. + +'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 stand +here--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 fingers +frost-bitten so that we could never hold it up to get home again. No +thanks,' said Robert. + +'I say,' said Jane, 'let's get the Psammead and ask its advice. It will +like us asking, even if we don't take it.' + +The Psammead was brought up in its green silk embroidered bag, but +before it could be asked anything the door of the learned gentleman's +room opened and the voice of the visitor who had been lunching with him +was heard on the stairs. He seemed to be speaking with the door handle +in his hand. + +'You see a doctor, old boy,' he said; 'all that about +thought-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 to +give 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--a +stout, 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 Cyril +and the hand of Robert, 'been in the wars?' + +'It's all right,' said Cyril. 'I say, what was that Atlantic place you +wanted 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 the +Hesperides. Great continent--disappeared in the sea. You can read about +it in Plato.' + +'Thank you,' said Cyril doubtfully. + +'Were there any Amulets there?' asked Anthea, made anxious by a sudden +thought. + +'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. What +he wants is a change of scene. You see, his head is crusted so thickly +inside with knowledge about Egypt and Assyria and things that you can't +hammer anything into it unless you keep hard at it all day long for days +and days. And I haven't time. But you live in the house. You can hammer +almost 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 a +nice 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,' said +Anthea; 'he'll think it's a dream, afterwards, but it'll certainly be a +change 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 the +question on Jane's lips, 'but somehow we have. Squirrel, let's take +off these beastly bandages and get into flannels. We can't go in our +unders.' + +'He WISHED to go to Atlantis, so he's got to go some time; and he might +as well go with us,' said Anthea. + +This was how it was that the learned gentleman, permitting himself a few +moments of relaxation in his chair, after the fatigue of listening to +opinions (about Atlantis and many other things) with which he did not +at all agree, opened his eyes to find his four young friends standing in +front 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 an +end,' he told himself; 'or perhaps it's only a game, like "How many +miles to Babylon?".' So he said aloud: 'Thank you very much, but I have +only 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 was +dreaming. + +Anthea held out her soft, pink hand. He took it. She pulled him gently +to 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 its +bag. + +But already the Amulet had grown to a great arch. Cyril pushed the +learned gentleman, as undoubtedly the first-born, through the arch--not +into 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 the +deck of a ship whose sailors were busy making her fast with chains to +rings on a white quay-side. The rings and the chains were of a metal +that shone red-yellow like gold. + +Everyone on the ship seemed too busy at first to notice the group of +newcomers from Fitzroy Street. Those who seemed to be officers were +shouting orders to the men. + +They stood and looked across the wide quay to the town that rose beyond +it. What they saw was the most beautiful sight any of them had ever +seen--or ever dreamed of. + +The blue sea sparkled in soft sunlight; little white-capped waves broke +softly against the marble breakwaters that guarded the shipping of a +great city from the wilderness of winter winds and seas. The quay was of +marble, white and sparkling with a veining bright as gold. The city +was of marble, red and white. The greater buildings that seemed to be +temples and palaces were roofed with what looked like gold and silver, +but most of the roofs were of copper that glowed golden-red on the +houses on the hills among which the city stood, and shaded into +marvellous tints of green and blue and purple where they had been +touched by the salt sea spray and the fumes of the dyeing and smelting +works of the lower town. + +Broad and magnificent flights of marble stairs led up from the quay to a +sort of terrace that seemed to run along for miles, and beyond rose the +town 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 know +it's Mr De Something.' + +'When I was your age I was called Jimmy,' he said timidly. 'Would you +mind? I should feel more at home in a dream like this if I--Anything +that made me seem more like one of you.' + +'Thank you--Jimmy,' said Anthea with an effort. It seemed such a cheek +to be saying Jimmy to a grown-up man. 'Jimmy, DEAR,' she added, with no +effort at all. Jimmy smiled and looked pleased. + +But now the ship was made fast, and the Captain had time to notice other +things. He came towards them, and he was dressed in the best of all +possible dresses for the seafaring life. + +'What are you doing here?' he asked rather fiercely. 'Do you come to +bless or to curse?' + +'To bless, of course,' said Cyril. 'I'm sorry if it annoys you, but +we're here by magic. We come from the land of the sun-rising,' he went +on explanatorily. + +'I see,' said the Captain; no one had expected that he would. 'I didn't +notice 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 they +call it? And we want to see all your beautiful city, and your temples +and things, and then we shall go back, and he will tell his friend, and +his 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 the +Babylonian writing, 'or engraved.' + +Some sudden impulse of confidence made Jane pluck the Amulet from the +neck of her frock. + +'Like this,' she said. + +The Captain looked at it curiously, but, the other three were relieved +to notice, without any of that overwhelming interest which the mere name +of it had roused in Egypt and Babylon. + +'The stone is of our country,' he said; 'and that which is engraved on +it, it is like our writing, but I cannot read it. What is the name of +your sage?' + +'Ji-jimmy,' said Anthea hesitatingly. + +The Captain repeated, 'Ji-jimmy. Will you land?' he added. 'And shall I +lead you to the Kings?' + +'Look here,' said Robert, 'does your King hate strangers?' + +'Our Kings are ten,' said the Captain, 'and the Royal line, unbroken +from Poseidon, the father of us all, has the noble tradition to do +honour to strangers if they come in peace.' + +'Then lead on, please,' said Robert, 'though I SHOULD like to see all +over your beautiful ship, and sail about in her.' + +'That shall be later,' said the Captain; 'just now we're afraid of a +storm--do you notice that odd rumbling?' + +'That's nothing, master,' said an old sailor who stood near; 'it's the +pilchards coming in, that's all.' + +'Too loud,' said the Captain. + +There was a rather anxious pause; then the Captain stepped on to the +quay, and the others followed him. + +'Do talk to him--Jimmy,' said Anthea as they went; 'you can find out all +sorts of things for your friend's book.' + +'Please excuse me,' he said earnestly. 'If I talk I shall wake up; and +besides, I can't understand what he says.' + +No one else could think of anything to say, so that it was in complete +silence that they followed the Captain up the marble steps and through +the streets of the town. There were streets and shops and houses and +markets. + +'It's just like Babylon,' whispered Jane, 'only everything's perfectly +different.' + +'It's a great comfort the ten Kings have been properly brought up--to be +kind 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 handcarts +and low trolleys running on thick log-wheels, and porters carrying +packets on their heads, and a good many of the people were riding on +what looked like elephants, only the great beasts were hairy, and they +had not that mild expression we are accustomed to meet on the faces of +the elephants at the Zoo. + +'Mammoths!' murmured the learned gentleman, and stumbled over a loose +stone. + +The people in the streets kept crowding round them as they went along, +but the Captain always dispersed the crowd before it grew uncomfortably +thick 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 like +a suppressed cheer. + +Many of the buildings were covered with gold, but the gold on the bigger +buildings was of a different colour, and they had sorts of steeples of +burnished 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, just +by holding up the charm. Would you rather go back now? We could easily +come some other day without you.' + +'Oh, no, no,' he pleaded fervently; 'let the dream go on. Please, please +do.' + +'The High Ji-jimmy is perhaps weary with his magic journey,' said the +Captain, noticing the blundering walk of the learned gentleman; 'and +we are yet very far from the Great Temple, where today the Kings make +sacrifice.' + +He stopped at the gate of a great enclosure. It seemed to be a sort of +park, for trees showed high above its brazen wall. + +The party waited, and almost at once the Captain came back with one of +the 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 also +glorious, but he goes such a very little way, and then he goes back +again, which is always dull. But this great hairy beast went on and on +and on along streets and through squares and gardens. It was a glorious +city; 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 the +town that they saw that the whole city was divided into twenty circles, +alternately land and water, and over each of the water circles were the +bridges by which they had come. + +And now they were in a great square. A vast building filled up one side +of it; it was overlaid with gold, and had a dome of silver. The rest of +the buildings round the square were of oricalchum. And it looked more +splendid than you can possibly imagine, standing up bold and shining in +the sunlight. + +'You would like a bath,' said the Captain, as the hairy elephant went +clumsily down on his knees. 'It's customary, you know, before entering +the Presence. We have baths for men, women, horses, and cattle. The High +Class Baths are here. Our Father Poseidon gave us a spring of hot water +and 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,' said +Robert. 'Hand over that towel.' + +The bathing hall had several great pools sunk below the level of the +floor; one went down to them by steps. + +'Jimmy,' said Anthea timidly, when, very clean and boiled-looking, they +all met in the flowery courtyard of the Public, 'don't you think all +this 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 agree +with you. A most discerning remark--my dear,' he added awkwardly; 'this +city certainly seems to indicate a far higher level of civilization than +the Egyptian or Babylonish, and--' + +'Follow me,' said the Captain. 'Now, boys, get out of the way.' He +pushed through a little crowd of boys who were playing with dried +chestnuts fastened to a string. + +'Ginger!' remarked Robert, 'they're playing conkers, just like the kids +in Kentish Town Road!' + +They could see now that three walls surrounded the island on which they +were. The outermost wall was of brass, the Captain told them; the next, +which looked like silver, was covered with tin; and the innermost one +was of oricalchum. + +And right in the middle was a wall of gold, with golden towers and +gates. + +'Behold the Temples of Poseidon,' said the Captain. 'It is not lawful +for me to enter. I will await your return here.' + +He told them what they ought to say, and the five people from Fitzroy +Street took hands and went forward. The golden gates slowly opened. + +'We are the children of the Sun,' said Cyril, as he had been told, 'and +our High Priest, at least that's what the Captain calls him. We have a +different name for him at home.' 'What is his name?' asked a white-robed +man 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 a +gentleman. 'And we have come to speak with your Kings in the Temple of +Poseidon--does that word sound right?' he whispered anxiously. + +'Quite,' said the learned gentleman. 'It's very odd I can understand +what you say to them, but not what they say to you.' + +'The Queen of Babylon found that too,' said Cyril; 'it's part of the +magic.' + +'Oh, what a dream!' said the learned gentleman. + +The white-robed priest had been joined by others, and all were bowing +low. + +'Enter,' he said, 'enter, Children of the Sun, with your High Ji-jimmy.' + +In an inner courtyard stood the Temple--all of silver, with gold +pinnacles and doors, and twenty enormous statues in bright gold of men +and 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 a +gallery 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 me +to behold,' said the priest, and fell face downward on the floor outside +the gallery. The children looked down. + +The roof was of ivory adorned with the three precious metals, and the +walls were lined with the favourite oricalchum. + +At the far end of the Temple was a statue group, the like of which no +one 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 great +chariot drawn by six enormous horses, and round about it were a hundred +mermaids riding on dolphins. + +Ten men, splendidly dressed and armed only with sticks and ropes, were +trying to capture one of some fifteen bulls who ran this way and that +about the floor of the Temple. The children held their breath, for the +bulls looked dangerous, and the great horned heads were swinging more +and 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 higher +storey; also that a door led out into the open air, where there seemed +to be a balcony. + +So that when a shout went up and Robert whispered, 'Got him,' and she +looked down and saw the herd of bulls being driven out of the Temple by +whips, and the ten Kings following, one of them spurring with his +stick a black bull that writhed and fought in the grip of a lasso, she +answered 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 talked +to the priest, who was no longer lying on his face, but sitting on the +top 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 the +justice days every five years and six years alternately. And then they +drink the cup of wine with some of the bull's blood in it, and swear +to judge truly. And they wear the sacred blue robe, and put out all the +Temple fires. But this today is because the City's so upset by the odd +noises from the sea, and the god inside the big mountain speaking with +his thunder-voice. But all that's happened so often before. If anything +could 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 the +country 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's +going 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've +fought shy of us.' + +'What do you call this country?' asked the Psammead, suddenly putting +its head out of its bag. + +'Atlantis,' said the priest. + +'Then I advise you to get on to the highest ground you can find. I +remember hearing something about a flood here. Look here, you'--it +turned to Anthea; 'let's get home. The prospect's too wet for my +whiskers.' The girls obediently went to find their brothers, who were +leaning on the balcony railings. + +'Where's the learned gentleman?' asked Anthea. + +'There he is--below,' said the priest, who had come with them. 'Your +High Ji-jimmy is with the Kings.' + +The ten Kings were no longer alone. The learned gentleman--no one had +noticed how he got there--stood with them on the steps of an altar, on +which lay the dead body of the black bull. All the rest of the courtyard +was 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 the +bull. 'Our town is strong against the thunders of the sea and of the +sky!' + +'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 began +to come towards her through the crowd. They could see from the balcony +the sea-captain edging his way out from among the people. And his face +was dead white, like paper. + +'To the hills!' he cried in a loud and terrible voice. And above his +voice 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 rolled +towards the town. It was a wave, but a wave a hundred feet in height, a +wave that looked like a mountain--a wave rising higher and higher till +suddenly it seemed to break in two--one half of it rushed out to sea +again; the other-- + +'Oh!' cried Anthea, 'the town--the poor people!' + +'It's all thousands of years ago, really,' said Robert but his voice +trembled. They hid their eyes for a moment. They could not bear to look +down, for the wave had broken on the face of the town, sweeping over +the quays and docks, overwhelming the great storehouses and factories, +tearing gigantic stones from forts and bridges, and using them as +battering rams against the temples. Great ships were swept over the +roofs of the houses and dashed down halfway up the hill among ruined +gardens and broken buildings. The water ground brown fishing-boats to +powder 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 learned +gentleman 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 of +turret--roofed, but open to the air at the sides. + +The learned gentleman was leaning on the parapet, and as they +rejoined him the vast wave rushed back on the town. This time it rose +higher--destroyed more. + +'Come home,' cried the Psammead; 'THAT'S the LAST, I know it is! That's +the 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 gentleman +obstinately. + +The hills around were black with people fleeing from the villages to the +mountains. And even as they fled thin smoke broke from the great white +peak, and then a faint flash of flame. Then the volcano began to throw +up its mysterious fiery inside parts. The earth trembled; ashes and +sulphur showered down; a rain of fine pumice-stone fell like snow on all +the dry land. The elephants from the forest rushed up towards the peaks; +great lizards thirty yards long broke from the mountain pools and +rushed down towards the sea. The snows melted and rushed down, first in +avalanches, then in roaring torrents. Great rocks cast up by the volcano +fell 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 they +stood was now crowded with men and women, and the children were strained +tight against the parapet. The turret rocked and swayed; the wave had +reached 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 of +the learned gentleman. + +At the same moment the boys pushed him through the arch and all followed +him. + +He turned to look back, and through the arch he saw nothing but a waste +of waters, with above it the peak of the terrible mountain with fire +raging from it. + + +He staggered back to his chair. + +'What a ghastly dream!' he gasped. 'Oh, you're here, my--er--dears. Can +I 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 very +white. + + +'Never again,' said the Psammead later on, 'will I go into the Past with +a 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 of +was there. It fell on to a ship miles away that managed to escape and +got 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 sort +of 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 his +article now,' said Cyril very much later indeed. + +'Not he,' said Robert sleepily. 'The learned Ji-jimmy will think it's a +dream, and it's ten to one he never tells the other chap a word about it +at all.' + +Robert was quite right on both points. The learned gentleman did. And he +never did. + + + +CHAPTER 10. THE LITTLE BLACK GIRL AND JULIUS CAESAR + +A great city swept away by the sea, a beautiful country devastated by +an active volcano--these are not the sort of things you see every day of +the week. And when you do see them, no matter how many other wonders +you may have seen in your time, such sights are rather apt to take your +breath 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 gentleman +seemed as breathless as anyone; he spent a good deal of what little +breath he had in telling Anthea about a wonderful dream he had. 'You +would hardly believe,' he said, 'that anyone COULD have such a detailed +vision.' + +But Anthea could believe it, she said, quite easily. + +He had ceased to talk about thought-transference. He had now seen too +many wonders to believe that. + +In consequence of their breathless condition none of the children +suggested any new excursions through the Amulet. Robert voiced the mood +of the others when he said that they were 'fed up' with Amulet for a +bit. They undoubtedly were. + +As for the Psammead, it went to sand and stayed there, worn out by +the terror of the flood and the violent exercise it had had to take in +obedience to the inconsiderate wishes of the learned gentleman and the +Babylonian queen. + +The children let it sleep. The danger of taking it about among strange +people who might at any moment utter undesirable wishes was becoming +more and more plain. + +And there are pleasant things to be done in London without any aid from +Amulets 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's +Exhibition of Waxworks, or the Botanical Gardens at Kew. You can go to +Kew by river steamer--and this is the way that the children would have +gone if they had gone at all. Only they never did, because it was when +they were discussing the arrangements for the journey, and what they +should take with them to eat and how much of it, and what the whole +thing would cost, that the adventure of the Little Black Girl began to +happen. + +The children were sitting on a seat in St James's Park. They had been +watching the pelican repulsing with careful dignity the advances of the +seagulls who are always so anxious to play games with it. The pelican +thinks, very properly, that it hasn't the figure for games, so it spends +most of its time pretending that that is not the reason why it won't +play. + +The breathlessness caused by Atlantis was wearing off a little. Cyril, +who always wanted to understand all about everything, was turning things +over in his mind. + +'I'm not; I'm only thinking,' he answered when Robert asked him what he +was 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 my +inside 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're +anything like the ones on the island where we united the Cook and the +Burglar 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 a +little; '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 they +heard the Little Black Girl sniff. She was quite close to them. + +She was not really a little black girl. She was shabby and not very +clean, and she had been crying so much that you could hardly see, +through the narrow chink between her swollen lids, how very blue her +eyes were. It was her dress that was black, and it was too big and too +long for her, and she wore a speckled black-ribboned sailor hat that +would have fitted a much bigger head than her little flaxen one. And she +stood 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?' she +asked again. + +'Oh, YOU'RE all right,' the child repeated; 'YOU ain't agoin' to the +Union.' + +'Can't we take you home?' said Anthea; and Jane added, 'Where does your +mother live?' + +'She don't live nowheres--she's dead--so now!' said the little girl +fiercely, in tones of miserable triumph. Then she opened her swollen +eyes widely, stamped her foot in fury, and ran away. She ran no further +than to the next bench, flung herself down there and began to cry +without even trying not to. + +Anthea, quite at once, went to the little girl and put her arms as tight +as she could round the hunched-up black figure. + +'Oh, don't cry so, dear, don't, don't!' she whispered under the brim of +the large sailor hat, now very crooked indeed. 'Tell Anthea all about +it; 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 she +seemed to be talking to Anthea. + +Presently Anthea beckoned Cyril. + +'It's horrible!' she said in a furious whisper, 'her father was a +carpenter and he was a steady man, and never touched a drop except on a +Saturday, and he came up to London for work, and there wasn't any, and +then he died; and her name is Imogen, and she's nine come next +November. And now her mother's dead, and she's to stay tonight with +Mrs Shrobsall--that's a landlady that's been kind--and tomorrow the +Relieving 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 walked +back to Fitzroy Street as fast as it could, the little girl holding +tight to Anthea's hand and now not crying any more, only sniffing +gently. + +The learned gentleman looked up from his writing with the smile that had +grown much easier to him than it used to be. They were quite at home +in his room now; it really seemed to welcome them. Even the mummy-case +appeared to smile as if in its distant superior ancient Egyptian way it +were 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've +often heard about rich people who wanted children most awfully--though I +know _I_ never should--but they do. There must be somebody who'd be glad +to have her.' + +'Gipsies are awfully fond of children,' Robert hopefully said. 'They're +always stealing them. Perhaps they'd have her.' + +'She's quite a nice little girl really,' Jane added; 'she was only +rude at first because we looked jolly and happy, and she wasn't. You +understand that, don't you?' + +'Yes,' said he, absently fingering a little blue image from Egypt. 'I +understand that very well. As you say, there must be some home where she +would 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 that +she never noticed the Psammead who, roused from sleep by her voice, had +shaken itself free of sand, and was coming crookedly up the stairs. It +was close to her before she saw it. She picked it up and settled it in +her lap. + +'What is it?' asked the black child. 'Is it a cat or a organ-monkey, or +what?' + +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 sat +on her lap. + +She jumped up lifting the Psammead in her skirt, and holding Imogen by +the 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 teeth +the hem of her frock which, thus supported, formed a bag to hold the +Psammead. + +'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 transported +from one place to another by magic. Also there was that dizzy dimness of +sight 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, stood +on green grass. Above them, instead of the dusky ceiling of the Fitzroy +Street floor, was a pale blue sky. And where the walls had been and the +painted mummy-case, were tall dark green trees, oaks and ashes, and in +between the trees and under them tangled bushes and creeping ivy. There +were beech-trees too, but there was nothing under them but their own +dead red drifted leaves, and here and there a delicate green fern-frond. + +And there they stood in a circle still holding hands, as though they +were playing Ring-o'-Roses or the Mulberry Bush. Just six people hand in +hand in a wood. That sounds simple, but then you must remember that they +did not know WHERE the wood was, and what's more, they didn't know WHEN +then wood was. There was a curious sort of feeling that made the learned +gentleman say-- + +'Another dream, dear me!' and made the children almost certain that they +were 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,' said +the Psammead crossly. 'Is there anything else you want to know?' it +added, sticking its head out of the bag formed by Anthea's blue linen +frock, and turning its snail's eyes to right and left. 'I've been here +before--it's very little changed.' 'Yes, but why here?' asked Anthea. + +'Your inconsiderate friend,' the Psammead replied, 'wished to find some +home where they would be glad to have that unattractive and immature +female human being whom you have picked up--gracious knows how. In +Megatherium days properly brought-up children didn't talk to shabby +strangers in parks. Your thoughtless friend wanted a place where someone +would be glad to have this undesirable stranger. And now here you are!' + +'I see we are,' said Anthea patiently, looking round on the tall gloom +of the forest. 'But why HERE? Why NOW?' + +'You don't suppose anyone would want a child like that in YOUR times--in +YOUR towns?' said the Psammead in irritated tones. 'You've got +your country into such a mess that there's no room for half your +children--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 the +Psammead still more crossly, 'when everyone knows how damp and foggy +Ancient Britain was.' + +'Here, take my coat,' said Robert, taking it off. Anthea spread the coat +on the ground and, putting the Psammead on it, folded it round so that +only 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 the +answer 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 head +and 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 is +sure 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 of +children 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 silly +person's idea of a path. They went along this in Indian file, the +learned gentleman leading. + +Quite soon they came to a large clearing in the forest. There were a +number of houses--huts perhaps you would have called them--with a sort +of 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 like +Ring-o'-Roses or Mulberry Bush. That is to say, they were dancing round +in a ring, holding hands. On a grassy bank several women, dressed in +blue and white robes and tunics of beast-skins sat watching the playing +children. + +The children from Fitzroy Street stood on the fringe of the forest +looking at the games. One woman with long, fair braided hair sat a +little apart from the others, and there was a look in her eyes as she +followed 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. Mother +wouldn't never a-beat me if she'd lived 'ere--I don't suppose there's +e'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 up +with a radiance like sunrise, her long, lean arms stretched towards the +London child. + +'Imogen!' she cried--at least the word was more like that than any other +word--'Imogen!' + +There was a moment of great silence; the naked children paused in their +play, the women on the bank stared anxiously. + +'Oh, it IS mother--it IS!' cried Imogen-from-London, and rushed across +the cleared space. She and her mother clung together--so closely, so +strongly 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. Tell +me, my darling, how did you escape? Where have you been? Who has fed and +clothed you?' + +'I don't know nothink,' said Imogen. + +'Poor child!' whispered the women who crowded round, 'the terror of the +wolves 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 in +the other's heart. It is enough.' + +'Oh,' said the learned gentleman, 'this is a good dream. I wish the +child might stay in the dream.' + +The Psammead blew itself out and granted the wish. So Imogen's future +was assured. She had found someone to want her. + +'If only all the children that no one wants,' began the learned +gentleman--but the woman interrupted. She came towards them. + +'Welcome, all!' she cried. 'I am the Queen, and my child tells me that +you 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, I +see 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 on +the children and the learned gentleman by those ancient Britons. + +You would have thought, to see them, that a child was something to make +a fuss about, not a bit of rubbish to be hustled about the streets and +hidden away in the Workhouse. It wasn't as grand as the entertainment at +Babylon, but somehow it was more satisfying. + +'I think you children have some wonderful influence on me,' said the +learned gentleman. 'I never dreamed such dreams before I knew you.' + +It was when they were alone that night under the stars where the Britons +had 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 jolly +good 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't +you see that if this is the year fifty-five, Julius Caesar may happen at +any moment.' + +'I thought you liked Caesar,' said Robert. + +'So I do--in the history. But that's different from being killed by his +soldiers.' + +'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 wish +we could see Caesar some time.' + +And, of course, in just the little time the Psammead took to blow itself +out for wish-giving, the five, or six counting the Psammead, found +themselves in Caesar's camp, just outside Caesar's tent. And they saw +Caesar. The Psammead must have taken advantage of the loose wording of +the learned gentleman's wish, for it was not the same time of day as +that on which the wish had been uttered among the dried ferns. It was +sunset, and the great man sat on a chair outside his tent gazing over +the sea towards Britain--everyone knew without being told that it was +towards Britain. Two golden eagles on the top of posts stood on each +side of the tent, and on the flaps of the tent which was very gorgeous +to look at were the letters S.P.Q.R. + +The great man turned unchanged on the newcomers the august glance that +he had turned on the violet waters of the Channel. Though they had +suddenly appeared out of nothing, Caesar never showed by the faintest +movement of an eyelid, by the least tightening of that firm mouth, that +they were not some long expected embassy. He waved a calm hand towards +the sentinels, who sprang weapons in hand towards the newcomers. + +'Back!' he said in a voice that thrilled like music. 'Since when has +Caesar 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 quite +intelligibly--the lips of Caesar speaking in the Latin tongue, and in +that 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 time +and another place.' + +'And we want to ask you not to trouble about conquering Britain,' said +Anthea; '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're +not,' said Jane with angry eagerness; 'we're not barbarians at all. We +come from the country where the sun never sets, and we've read about +you in books; and our country's full of fine things--St Paul's, and the +Tower of London, and Madame Tussaud's Exhibition, and--' Then the others +stopped her. + +'Don't talk nonsense,' said Robert in a bitter undertone. + +Caesar looked at the children a moment in silence. Then he called a +soldier and spoke with him apart. Then he said aloud-- + +'You three elder children may go where you will within the camp. Few +children are privileged to see the camp of Caesar. The student and the +smaller girl-child will remain here with me.' + +Nobody liked this; but when Caesar said a thing that thing was so, and +there was an end to it. So the three went. + +Left alone with Jane and the learned gentleman, the great Roman found it +easy 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 at +them. + +The learned gentleman insisted that the whole thing was a dream, and +refused 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 down +dead.' + +'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 were +recalled. + +The boys explained the pistol to Caesar very fully, and he looked at it +with the greatest interest. It was a two-shilling pistol, the one that +had done such good service in the old Egyptian village. + +'I shall cause guns to be made,' said Caesar, 'and you will be detained +till I know whether you have spoken the truth. I had just decided that +Britain was not worth the bother of invading. But what you tell me +decides me that it is very much worth while.' + +'But it's all nonsense,' said Anthea. 'Britain is just a savage sort of +island--all fogs and trees and big rivers. But the people are kind. We +know a little girl there named Imogen. And it's no use your making +guns because you can't fire them without gunpowder, and that won't be +invented for hundreds of years, and we don't know how to make it, and +we can't tell you. Do go straight home, dear Caesar, and let poor little +Britain alone.' + +'But this other girl-child says--' said Caesar. + +'All Jane's been telling you is what it's going to be,' Anthea +interrupted, 'hundreds and hundreds of years from now.' + +'The little one is a prophetess, eh?' said Caesar, with a whimsical +look. 'Rather young for the business, isn't she?' + +'You can call her a prophetess if you like,' said Cyril, 'but what +Anthea says is true.' + +'Anthea?' said Caesar. 'That's a Greek name.' + +'Very likely,' said Cyril, worriedly. 'I say, I do wish you'd give up +this 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 to +go, if it's only to find out what Britain is really like. Guards, detain +these children.' + +'Quick,' said Robert, 'before the guards begin detaining. We had enough +of that in Babylon.' + +Jane held up the Amulet away from the sunset, and said the word. The +learned gentleman was pushed through and the others more quickly than +ever before passed through the arch back into their own times and the +quiet dusty sitting-room of the learned gentleman. + + +It is a curious fact that when Caesar was encamped on the coast of +Gaul--somewhere near Boulogne it was, I believe--he was sitting before +his tent in the glow of the sunset, looking out over the violet waters +of the English Channel. Suddenly he started, rubbed his eyes, and called +his secretary. The young man came quickly from within the tent. + +'Marcus,' said Caesar. 'I have dreamed a very wonderful dream. Some +of it I forget, but I remember enough to decide what was not before +determined. Tomorrow the ships that have been brought round from the +Ligeris shall be provisioned. We shall sail for this three-cornered +island. First, we will take but two legions. + +This, if what we have heard be true, should suffice. But if my dream be +true, then a hundred legions will not suffice. For the dream I dreamed +was the most wonderful that ever tormented the brain even of Caesar. And +Caesar has dreamed some strange things in his time.' + + +'And if you hadn't told Caesar all that about how things are now, he'd +never have invaded Britain,' said Robert to Jane as they sat down to +tea. + +'Oh, nonsense,' said Anthea, pouring out; 'it was all settled hundreds +of years ago.' + +'I don't know,' said Cyril. 'Jam, please. This about time being only +a thingummy of thought is very confusing. If everything happens at the +same time--' + +'It CAN'T!' said Anthea stoutly, 'the present's the present and the +past's the past.' + +'Not always,' said Cyril. + +'When we were in the Past the present was the future. Now then!' he +added 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 one +thing,' said Anthea. 'We left her happy in the Past. I've often seen +about people being happy in the Past, in poetry books. I see what it +means now.' + +'It's not a bad idea,' said the Psammead sleepily, putting its head out +of 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 Black +Girl that Cyril, bursting into the bathroom to wash his hands for +dinner (you have no idea how dirty they were, for he had been playing +shipwrecked mariners all the morning on the leads at the back of the +house, where the water-cistern is), found Anthea leaning her elbows on +the edge of the bath, and crying steadily into it. + +'Hullo!' he said, with brotherly concern, 'what's up now? Dinner'll be +cold 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 fingers +with 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 been +having a row or anything?' + +'No,' she said. 'Wash your horrid hands, for goodness' sake, if that's +what you came for, or go.' + +Anthea was so seldom cross that when she was cross the others were +always more surprised than angry. + +Cyril edged along the side of the bath and stood beside her. He put his +hand on her arm. + +'Dry up, do,' he said, rather tenderly for him. And, finding that though +she did not at once take his advice she did not seem to resent it, he +put his arm awkwardly across her shoulders and rubbed his head against +her ear. + +'There!' he said, in the tone of one administering a priceless cure for +all 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's +Mother.' + +'What's the matter with Mother?' asked Cyril, with apparent want of +sympathy. '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 his +tone admitted a good deal. + +'Oh, yes,' said Anthea, 'I know. We all want her all the time. But I +want her now most dreadfully, awfully much. I never wanted anything so +much. That Imogen child--the way the ancient British Queen cuddled her +up! And Imogen wasn't me, and the Queen was Mother. And then her letter +this morning! And about The Lamb liking the salt bathing! And she bathed +him 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'll +chuck it, like a sensible kid, and wash your face, I'll tell you about +it. 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 you +are,' but she laughed a little, and her mouth began to get back into its +proper shape. You know what an odd shape your mouth gets into when you +cry in earnest. + +'Look here,' said Cyril, working the soap round and round between his +hands in a thick slime of grey soapsuds. 'I've been thinking. We've only +just PLAYED with the Amulet so far. We've got to work it now--WORK it +for all it's worth. And it isn't only Mother either. There's Father out +there 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 the +pressure of his fingers, and had hit Anthea's chin with as much force as +though 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, my +idea'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, and +hats, and braces, and really useful things--things the savages haven't +got, and never heard about. And the savages love them for their +kind generousness, and give them pearls, and shells, and ivory, and +cassowaries. 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 love +you by being generous. And that's what we've got to do. Next time we go +into the Past we'll regularly fit out the expedition. You remember how +the Babylonian Queen froze on to that pocket-book? Well, we'll take +things 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 where +it 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, 'because +it will be such an awfully long time ago when we do it. Oh, there's that +bell again.' + +As soon as dinner was eaten (it was tinned salmon and lettuce, and a jam +tart), and the cloth cleared away, the idea was explained to the others, +and the Psammead was aroused from sand, and asked what it thought would +be good merchandise with which to buy the affection of say, the Ancient +Egyptians, and whether it thought the Amulet was likely to be found in +the 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 find +out in a minute where the thing was, only I mayn't. But I may go so far +as to own that your idea of taking things with you isn't a bad one. And +I shouldn't show them all at once. Take small things and conceal them +craftily about your persons.' + +This advice seemed good. Soon the table was littered over with things +which the children thought likely to interest the Ancient Egyptians. +Anthea brought dolls, puzzle blocks, a wooden tea-service, a green +leather case with Necessaire written on it in gold letters. Aunt +Emma had once given it to Anthea, and it had then contained scissors, +penknife, bodkin, stiletto, thimble, corkscrew, and glove-buttoner. The +scissors, knife, and thimble, and penknife were, of course, lost, but +the other things were there and as good as new. Cyril contributed lead +soldiers, a cannon, a catapult, a tin-opener, a tie-clip, and a tennis +ball, and a padlock--no key. Robert collected a candle ('I don't suppose +they ever saw a self-fitting paraffin one,' he said), a penny Japanese +pin-tray, a rubber stamp with his father's name and address on it, and a +piece of putty. + +Jane added a key-ring, the brass handle of a poker, a pot that had held +cold-cream, a smoked pearl button off her winter coat, and a key--no +lock. + +'We can't take all this rubbish,' said Robert, with some scorn. 'We must +just each choose one thing.' + +The afternoon passed very agreeably in the attempt to choose from the +table the four most suitable objects. But the four children could not +agree what was suitable, and at last Cyril said-- + +'Look here, let's each be blindfolded and reach out, and the first thing +you 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 wore +ties.' + +'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 in +the forest, and almost throws away because he thinks it's no good, that +turns 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 when +it comes to the marriage hands.' + +'ARE we ready?' said Anthea. + +'It IS Egypt we're going to, isn't it?--nice Egypt?' said Jane. 'I +won't go anywhere I don't know about--like that dreadful big-wavy +burning-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. Besides +the Amulet's sure to be in a Temple. Let's just go among the common +people, and try to work ourselves up by degrees. We might get taken on +as Temple assistants.' + +'Like beadles,' said Anthea, 'or vergers. They must have splendid +chances of stealing the Temple treasures.' + +'Righto!' was the general rejoinder. The charm was held up. It grew big +once again, and once again the warm golden Eastern light glowed softly +beyond it. + +As the children stepped through it loud and furious voices rang in their +ears. They went suddenly from the quiet of Fitzroy Street dining-room +into 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 crowd +was of men, women, and children. They were of all sorts of complexions, +and pictures of them might have been coloured by any child with +a shilling paint-box. The colours that child would have used for +complexions would have been yellow ochre, red ochre, light red, sepia, +and indian ink. But their faces were painted already--black eyebrows +and lashes, and some red lips. The women wore a sort of pinafore with +shoulder straps, and loose things wound round their heads and shoulders. +The men wore very little clothing--for they were the working people--and +the Egyptian boys and girls wore nothing at all, unless you count +the little ornaments hung on chains round their necks and waists. The +children saw all this before they could hear anything distinctly. + +Everyone was shouting so. + +But a voice sounded above the other voices, and presently it was +speaking in a silence. + +'Comrades and fellow workers,' it said, and it was the voice of a +tall, coppery-coloured man who had climbed into a chariot that had been +stopped by the crowd. Its owner had bolted, muttering something about +calling the Guards, and now the man spoke from it. 'Comrades and fellow +workers, how long are we to endure the tyranny of our masters, who live +in idleness and luxury on the fruit of our toil? They only give us a +bare subsistence wage, and they live on the fat of the land. We labour +all 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, 'in +Hyde Park last Sunday!' + +'Let us strike for more bread and onions and beer, and a longer mid-day +rest,' the speaker went on. 'You are tired, you are hungry, you are +thirsty. You are poor, your wives and children are pining for food. The +barns of the rich are full to bursting with the corn we want, the corn +our labour has grown. To the granaries!' + +'To the granaries!' cried half the crowd; but another voice shouted +clear above the tumult, 'To Pharaoh! To the King! Let's present a +petition to the King! He will listen to the voice of the oppressed!' + +For a moment the crowd swayed one way and another--first towards the +granaries and then towards the palace. Then, with a rush like that of an +imprisoned torrent suddenly set free, it surged along the street towards +the palace, and the children were carried with it. Anthea found it +difficult to keep the Psammead from being squeezed very uncomfortably. + +The crowd swept through the streets of dull-looking houses with few +windows, very high up, across the market where people were not buying +but exchanging goods. In a momentary pause Robert saw a basket of onions +exchanged for a hair comb and five fish for a string of beads. The +people in the market seemed better off than those in the crowd; they +had 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 and +puffed out, asked of a date-seller. + +'Oh, the working-men--discontented as usual,' the man answered. 'Listen +to them. Anyone would think it mattered whether they had a little more +or 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, from +doubt to fear. There were other voices shouting; they shouted defiance +and menace, and they came nearer very quickly. There was the rattle of +wheels and the pounding of hoofs. A voice shouted, 'Guards!' + +'The Guards! The Guards!' shouted another voice, and the crowd of +workmen took up the cry. 'The Guards! Pharaoh's Guards!' And swaying a +little once more, the crowd hung for a moment as it were balanced. Then +as the trampling hoofs came nearer the workmen fled dispersed, up alleys +and into the courts of houses, and the Guards in their embossed leather +chariots swept down the street at the gallop, their wheels clattering +over the stones, and their dark-coloured, blue tunics blown open and +back with the wind of their going. + +'So THAT riot's over,' said the crimped-linen-dressed lady; 'that's +a blessing! And did you notice the Captain of the Guard? What a very +handsome man he was, to be sure!' + +The four children had taken advantage of the moment's pause before the +crowd turned to fly, to edge themselves and drag each other into an +arched 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 back +before they could get to the King. He might have done something for +them.' + +'Not if he was the one in the Bible he wouldn't,' said Jane. 'He had a +hard heart.' 'Ah, that was the Moses one,' Anthea explained. 'The Joseph +one was quite different. I should like to see Pharaoh's house. I wonder +whether 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 in +injured tones. + +'Yes, but we've got to know someone first. Couldn't we make friends +with a Temple doorkeeper--we might give him the padlock or something. I +wonder which are temples and which are palaces,' Robert added, glancing +across the market-place to where an enormous gateway with huge side +buildings towered towards the sky. To right and left of it were other +buildings only a little less magnificent. + +'Did you wish to seek out the Temple of Amen Ra?' asked a soft voice +behind them, 'or the Temple of Mut, or the Temple of Khonsu?' + +They turned to find beside them a young man. He was shaved clean from +head to foot, and on his feet were light papyrus sandals. He was clothed +in a linen tunic of white, embroidered heavily in colours. He was gay +with anklets, bracelets, and armlets of gold, richly inlaid. He wore +a ring on his finger, and he had a short jacket of gold embroidery +something like the Zouave soldiers wear, and on his neck was a gold +collar with many amulets hanging from it. But among the amulets the +children 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 the +Temple of Amen Ra and perhaps I can help you.' + +'Well,' said Cyril, 'we've come from the great Empire on which the sun +never 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 a +Temple, 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 see +there's magic mixed up in it. So we can't tell you everything. But we +don't want to give our gifts for nothing.' + +'Beware how you insult the god,' said the priest sternly. 'I also can +do magic. I can make a waxen image of you, and I can say words which, as +the wax image melts before the fire, will make you dwindle away and at +last 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 priest +unbelievingly. + +'Well, you shall,' said Cyril, 'nothing easier. Just stand close round +me.' + +'Do you need no preparation--no fasting, no incantations?' The priest's +tone was incredulous. + +'The incantation's quite short,' said Cyril, taking the hint; 'and as +for fasting, it's not needed in MY sort of magic. Union Jack, Printing +Press, Gunpowder, Rule Britannia! Come, Fire, at the end of this little +stick!' + +He had pulled a match from his pocket, and as he ended the incantation +which contained no words that it seemed likely the Egyptian had ever +heard he stooped in the little crowd of his relations and the priest and +struck the match on his boot. He stood up, shielding the flame with one +hand. + +'See?' he said, with modest pride. 'Here, take it into your hand.' + +'No, thank you,' said the priest, swiftly backing. 'Can you do that +again?' + +'Yes.' + +'Then come with me to the great double house of Pharaoh. He loves good +magic, and he will raise you to honour and glory. There's no need of +secrets between initiates,' he went on confidentially. 'The fact is, +I am out of favour at present owing to a little matter of failure of +prophecy. I told him a beautiful princess would be sent to him from +Syria, and, lo! a woman thirty years old arrived. But she WAS a +beautiful woman not so long ago. Time is only a mode of thought, you +know.' + +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 will +be 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 the +Temple. 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 at +that moment occurred to anybody, so they followed the priest through the +city. + +The streets were very narrow and dirty. The best houses, the priest +explained, were built within walls twenty to twenty-five feet high, +and such windows as showed in the walls were very high up. The tops of +palm-trees showed above the walls. The poor people's houses were little +square huts with a door and two windows, and smoke coming out of a hole +in the back. + +'The poor Egyptians haven't improved so very much in their building +since the first time we came to Egypt,' whispered Cyril to Anthea. + +The huts were roofed with palm branches, and everywhere there were +chickens, and goats, and little naked children kicking about in the +yellow dust. On one roof was a goat, who had climbed up and was eating +the dry palm-leaves with snorts and head-tossings of delight. Over every +house 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 yet +seen that day, though it would have made but a poor show beside that +of the Babylonian King. They came to it through a great square pillared +doorway of sandstone that stood in a high brick wall. The shut doors +were of massive cedar, with bronze hinges, and were studded with bronze +nails. At the side was a little door and a wicket gate, and through +this the priest led the children. He seemed to know a word that made the +sentries make way for him. + +Inside was a garden, planted with hundreds of different kinds of trees +and flowering shrubs, a lake full of fish, with blue lotus flowers at +the margin, and ducks swimming about cheerfully, and looking, as Jane +said, quite modern. + +'The guard-chamber, the store-houses, the queen's house,' said the +priest, pointing them out. + +They passed through open courtyards, paved with flat stones, and the +priest whispered to a guard at a great inner gate. + +'We are fortunate,' he said to the children, 'Pharaoh is even now in +the Court of Honour. Now, don't forget to be overcome with respect and +admiration. It won't do any harm if you fall flat on your faces. And +whatever you do, don't speak until you're spoken to.' + +'There used to be that rule in our country,' said Robert, 'when my +father was a little boy.' + +At the outer end of the great hall a crowd of people were arguing with +and even shoving the Guards, who seemed to make it a rule not to let +anyone through unless they were bribed to do it. The children heard +several promises of the utmost richness, and wondered whether they would +ever 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 step +that went right across the hall; then a little farther on another; and +then a steep flight of narrower steps, leading right up to the throne on +which Pharaoh sat. He sat there very splendid, his red and white double +crown on his head, and his sceptre in his hand. The throne had a canopy +of wood and wooden pillars painted in bright colours. On a low, broad +bench that ran all round the hall sat the friends, relatives, and +courtiers of the King, leaning on richly-covered cushions. + +The priest led the children up the steps till they all stood before the +throne; and then, suddenly, he fell on his face with hands outstretched. +The others did the same, Anthea falling very carefully because of the +Psammead. + +'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, 'And +what do you mean, Rekh-mara, by daring to come into my presence while +your innocence is not established?' + +'Oh, great King,' said the young priest, 'you are the very image of +Ra, and the likeness of his son Horus in every respect. You know the +thoughts of the hearts of the gods and of men, and you have divined +that these strangers are the children of the children of the vile and +conquered Kings of the Empire where the sun never sets. They know a +magic not known to the Egyptians. And they come with gifts in their +hands 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 at +finding themselves the centre of interest in a circle more grand, more +golden and more highly coloured than they could have imagined possible, +pulled out the padlock, the Necessaire, and the tie-clip. 'But it's not +tribute all the same,' Cyril muttered. 'England doesn't pay tribute!' + +Pharaoh examined all the things with great interest when the chief of +the household had taken them up to him. 'Deliver them to the Keeper of +the Treasury,' he said to one near him. And to the children he said-- + +'A small tribute, truly, but strange, and not without worth. And the +magic, 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 dry +wood--in the sight of all.' + +'I should jolly well like to see them do it,' said Pharaoh, just as the +priest 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 were +turned on her, 'because of the voice of the free people who are shouting +for bread and onions and beer and a long mid-day rest. If the people had +what 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 their +extra 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; 'the +Temple of Amen will not contain their offerings.' + +Cyril struck another match, and all the court was overwhelmed with +delight and wonder. And when Cyril took the candle from his pocket and +lighted it with the match, and then held the burning candle up before +the King the enthusiasm knew no bounds. + +'Oh, greatest of all, before whom sun and moon and stars bow down,' said +Rekh-mara insinuatingly, 'am I pardoned? Is my innocence made plain?' + +'As plain as it ever will be, I daresay,' said Pharaoh shortly. 'Get +along with you. You are pardoned. Go in peace.' The priest went with +lightning 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 be +a nice little novelty for my wild beast collection.' + +And instantly, the entreaties of the children availing as little as the +bites of the Psammead, though both bites and entreaties were fervent, it +was carried away from before their eyes. + +'Oh, DO be careful!' cried Anthea. 'At least keep it dry! Keep it in its +sacred 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 a +shame, 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 imprison +all. 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 it +would be! Oh, I wish you hadn't!' + +'Shut up, silly,' said Cyril. 'You know you WOULD come to Egypt. It was +your own idea entirely. Shut up. It'll be all right.' + +'I thought we should play ball with queens,' sobbed Jane, 'and have no +end 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 the +elder ones had feared. That, as Anthea said, was one comfort. There +were paintings on the wall that at any other time would have been most +interesting. And a sort of low couch, and chairs. When they were alone +Jane breathed a sigh of relief. 'Now we can get home all right,' she +said. + +'And leave the Psammead?' said Anthea reproachfully. + +'Wait a sec. I've got an idea,' said Cyril. He pondered for a few +moments. Then he began hammering on the heavy cedar door. It opened, and +a 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? Just +doing nothing but guard us. Wouldn't you like to see some magic? We're +not 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, and +we'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 it +on 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, I +don't know--a magic flower in a pot for you.' + +'If you can do that you can do anything,' said the soldier, and he went +out and barred the door. + +Then, of course, they held up the Amulet. They found the East by holding +it up, and turning slowly till the Amulet began to grow big, walked home +through it, and came back with a geranium in full scarlet flower from +the 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,' said +Anthea persuasively, 'if we only have our monkey. And here's twopence +for yourself.' + +The soldier looked at the twopence. + +'What's this?' he said. + +Robert explained how much simpler it was to pay money for things than +to exchange them as the people were doing in the market. Later on the +soldier gave the coins to his captain, who, later still, showed them to +Pharaoh, 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 not +believe this, I daresay, but really, if you believe the rest of the +story, 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 be +all right about those workmen? The King won't go back on what he said +about them just because he's angry with us?' + +'Oh, no,' said the soldier, 'you see, he's rather afraid of magic. He'll +keep to his word right enough.' + +'Then THAT'S all right,' said Robert; and Anthea said softly and +coaxingly-- + +'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 get +another chap to take on my duty here I'll see what I can do,' he said +grudgingly, and went out. + +'Do you mean,' said Robert, 'that we're going off without even TRYING +for the other half of the Amulet?' + +'I really think we'd better,' said Anthea tremulously. 'Of course the +other half of the Amulet's here somewhere or our half wouldn't have +brought us here. I do wish we could find it. It is a pity we don't +know any REAL magic. Then we could find out. I do wonder where it +is--exactly.' + +If they had only known it, something very like the other half of the +Amulet was very near them. It hung round the neck of someone, and +that someone was watching them through a chink, high up in the wall, +specially devised for watching people who were imprisoned. But they did +not know. + +There was nearly an hour of anxious waiting. They tried to take an +interest in the picture on the wall, a picture of harpers playing +very odd harps and women dancing at a feast. They examined the painted +plaster floor, and the chairs were of white painted wood with coloured +stripes at intervals. + +But the time went slowly, and everyone had time to think of how Pharaoh +had said, 'Don't torture them--YET.' + +'If the worst comes to the worst,' said Cyril, 'we must just bunk, and +leave 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 give +wishes. 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'm +sure we're all right for the present.' + +All the same, the sounds of the door being unbarred seemed one of the +prettiest sounds possible. + +'Suppose he hasn't got the Psammead?' whispered Jane. + +But that doubt was set at rest by the Psammead itself; for almost before +the 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, into +which the Psammead immediately crept. + +'Now,' said Cyril, 'what would you like us to do? Anything you'd like us +to get for you?' + +'Any little trick you like,' said the soldier. 'If you can get a strange +flower 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's +treasury. That's what I've always wished for.' + +At the word 'WISH' the children knew that the Psammead would attend to +THAT bit of magic. It did, and the floor was littered with a spreading +heap of gold and precious stones. + +'Any other little trick?' asked Cyril loftily. 'Shall we become +invisible? Vanish?' + +'Yes, if you like,' said the soldier; 'but not through the door, you +don'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 wooden +pillars that stood against the wall. There was a sound of someone moving +above. + +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 the +sound of it and at the sight of the Amulet growing into the great arch +the soldier fell flat on his face among the jewels with a cry of awe and +terror. + +The children went through the arch with a quickness born of long +practice. But Jane stayed in the middle of the arch and looked back. + +The others, standing on the dining-room carpet in Fitzroy Street, turned +and saw her still in the arch. 'Someone's holding her,' cried Cyril. 'We +must go back.' + +But they pulled at Jane's hands just to see if she would come, and, of +course, 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 telling +him he'd done it now, and they must take the jewels and flee for their +lives.' + +'And did they?' + +'I don't know. You interfered,' said Jane ungratefully. 'I SHOULD have +liked 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 his +legs; '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 the +girls were making warm frocks for their dolls, for the weather was +growing chilly. + +'Why, don't you see? It's really not any good our going into the Past +looking for that Amulet. The Past's as full of different times as--as +the sea is of sand. We're simply bound to hit upon the wrong time. We +might spend our lives looking for the Amulet and never see a sight of +it. Why, it's the end of September already. It's like looking for a +needle in--' + +'A bottle of hay--I know,' interrupted Robert; 'but if we don't go on +doing 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 chiffonier +drawer. + +'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 grumbling +now, fear you get something to grumble AT.' + +'I wasn't grumbling,' said Cyril quite untruly; 'but it does always +happen 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,' said +Nurse shortly. + +'What's the use of SAYING?' inquired Robert. 'We EAT our meals fast +enough, and almost always two helps. THAT ought to show you!' + +'Ah!' said old Nurse, going round the table and putting the knives and +forks in their places; 'you're a man all over, Master Robert. There was +my poor Green, all the years he lived with me I never could get more +out of him than "It's all right!" when I asked him if he'd fancied his +dinner. 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 to +show we're sorry we didn't think about telling her before what nice +cooking 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 mean +old peas and hair shirts and sleeping on the stones. I mean we'll make +her a sorry-present,' explained Anthea. 'Look here! I vote Cyril doesn't +tell us his idea until we've done something for old Nurse. It's worse +for us than him,' she added hastily, 'because he knows what it is and we +don't. Do you all agree?' + +The others would have been ashamed not to agree, so they did. It was not +till quite near the end of dinner--mutton fritters and blackberry and +apple pie--that out of the earnest talk of the four came an idea that +pleased everybody and would, they hoped, please Nurse. + +Cyril and Robert went out with the taste of apple still in their mouths +and the purple of blackberries on their lips--and, in the case of +Robert, on the wristband as well--and bought a big sheet of cardboard at +the stationers. Then at the plumber's shop, that has tubes and pipes +and taps and gas-fittings in the window, they bought a pane of glass the +same size as the cardboard. The man cut it with a very interesting tool +that had a bit of diamond at the end, and he gave them, out of his own +free generousness, a large piece of putty and a small piece of glue. + +While they were out the girls had floated four photographs of the four +children off their cards in hot water. These were now stuck in a row +along 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 Robert +painted a wreath of poppies round the photographs. He painted rather +well and very quickly, and poppies are easy to do if you've once been +shown 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 bottom +and put the glass on, and glued brown paper round the edge and over the +back, and put two loops of tape to hang it up by. + +Of course everyone saw when too late that there were not enough letters +in 'things', so the missing 'n' was put in. It was impossible, of +course, 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 hands +with 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 Cyril +sharply. + +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 what +we did when we went to look for the Amulet. And if we'd found it we +should 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 we +want 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--after +we'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 the +blank faces of the other three, 'there will be a time AFTER we've found +it. 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 people +say about progress and the world growing better and brighter. I expect +people will be awfully smart in the future.' + +'All right,' said Anthea, 'we should have to wash anyway, I'm all thick +with 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 big +arch of the charm straight into the British Museum. + +They knew it at once, and there, right in front of them, under a glass +case, was the Amulet--their own half of it, as well as the other half +they had never been able to find--and the two were joined by a pin of +red 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 had +found it to get anything out of the glass cases in the Museum--except by +Psammead magic, and then she hadn't been able to take anything away with +her; 'no--but we remember where we got it, and we can--' + +'Oh, DO we?' interrupted Cyril bitterly, 'do YOU remember where we got +it?' + +'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 old +enchanted rule I suppose. I wish people would teach you magic at school +like they do sums--or instead of. It would be some use having an Amulet +then.' + +'I wonder how far we are in the future,' said Anthea; the Museum looks +just 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 Anthea +with 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, stout +man 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 the +name of the learned gentleman who, among themselves, and to his face +when he had been with them at the other side of the Amulet, they had +called Jimmy. + +'THAT'S not much good,' said Cyril, 'thank you.' + +'How is it you're not at school?' asked the kind man in blue. 'Not +expelled 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, and +they could see he did not believe them. There is no company so little +pleasing 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 sudden +glory of sunlight and blue sky. The houses opposite the Museum were +gone. Instead there was a big garden, with trees and flowers and smooth +green lawns, and not a single notice to tell you not to walk on the +grass and not to destroy the trees and shrubs and not to pick the +flowers. There were comfortable seats all about, and arbours covered +with roses, and long, trellised walks, also rose-covered. Whispering, +splashing fountains fell into full white marble basins, white statues +gleamed among the leaves, and the pigeons that swept about among the +branches or pecked on the smooth, soft gravel were not black and tumbled +like the Museum pigeons are now, but bright and clean and sleek as birds +of new silver. A good many people were sitting on the seats, and on the +grass babies were rolling and kicking and playing--with very little on +indeed. Men, as well as women, seemed to be in charge of the babies and +were playing with them. + + +'It's like a lovely picture,' said Anthea, and it was. For the people's +clothes were of bright, soft colours and all beautifully and very simply +made. No one seemed to have any hats or bonnets, but there were a great +many Japanese-looking sunshades. And among the trees were hung lamps of +coloured glass. + +'I expect they light those in the evening,' said Jane. 'I do wish we +lived in the future!' + +They walked down the path, and as they went the people on the benches +looked at the four children very curiously, but not rudely or unkindly. +The children, in their turn, looked--I hope they did not stare--at the +faces of these people in the beautiful soft clothes. Those faces were +worth looking at. Not that they were all handsome, though even in the +matter of handsomeness they had the advantage of any set of people the +children had ever seen. But it was the expression of their faces that +made them worth looking at. The children could not tell at first what it +was. + +'I know,' said Anthea suddenly. 'They're not worried; that's what it +is.' + +And it was. Everybody looked calm, no one seemed to be in a hurry, no +one seemed to be anxious, or fretted, and though some did seem to be +sad, not a single one looked worried. + +But though the people looked kind everyone looked so interested in the +children that they began to feel a little shy and turned out of the big +main path into a narrow little one that wound among trees and shrubs and +mossy, dripping springs. + +It was here, in a deep, shadowed cleft between tall cypresses, that they +found the expelled little boy. He was lying face downward on the mossy +turf, and the peculiar shaking of his shoulders was a thing they had +seen, more than once, in each other. So Anthea kneeled down by him and +said-- + +'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 without +looking up. + +'Was that all?' asked Anthea. + +'It's about enough,' said the child; 'and I'm expelled for the whole +day!' + +'I don't quite understand,' said Anthea, gently. The boy lifted his +face, 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's +not a crime to leave a bit of paper about.' + +'It is here,' said the child. 'If grown-ups do it they're fined. When we +do 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's +when 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 an +Expelleder or you'd be in school.' + +'Suppose you were ill?' + +'Nobody is--hardly. If they are, of course they wear the badge, and +everyone is kind to you. I know a boy that stole his sister's illness +badge and wore it when he was expelled for a day. HE got expelled for a +week 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 for +my 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 with +flowers, and you choose your special subject for next year. Of course +you have to stick to it for a year at least. Then there are all your +other subjects, of course, reading, and painting, and the rules of +Citizenship.' + +'Good gracious!' said Anthea. + +'Look here,' said the child, jumping up, 'it's nearly four. The +expelledness only lasts till then. Come home with me. Mother will tell +you 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 his +honey-coloured smock and stepping out with hard little bare feet. 'Come +on.' + +So they went. + +The streets were wide and hard and very clean. There were no horses, but +a sort of motor carriage that made no noise. The Thames flowed between +green banks, and there were trees at the edge, and people sat under +them, fishing, for the stream was clear as crystal. Everywhere there +were green trees and there was no smoke. The houses were set in what +seemed 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 window +they could see him hugging his mother, then his eager lips moving and +his quick hands pointing. + +A lady in soft green clothes came out, spoke kindly to them, and took +them into the oddest house they had ever seen. It was very bare, there +were no ornaments, and yet every single thing was beautiful, from +the dresser with its rows of bright china, to the thick squares of +Eastern-looking carpet on the floors. I can't describe that house; I +haven't the time. And I haven't heart either, when I think how different +it was from our houses. The lady took them all over it. The oddest thing +of 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 a +single 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 in +your country there are no children's rooms.' + +'There are nurseries,' said Anthea doubtfully, 'but the furniture's all +cornery and hard, like other rooms.' + +'How shocking!' said the lady;'you must be VERY much behind the times in +your country! Why, the children are more than half of the people; it's +not much to have one room where they can have a good time and not hurt +themselves.' + +'But there's no fireplace,' said Anthea. + +'Hot-air pipes, of course,' said the lady. 'Why, how could you have a +fire in a nursery? A child might get burned.' + +'In our country,' said Robert suddenly, 'more than 3,000 children are +burned to death every year. Father told me,' he added, as if apologizing +for 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 the +furniture padded for?' Anthea asked, hastily turning the subject. + +'Why, you couldn't have little tots of two or three running about in +rooms where the things were hard and sharp! They might hurt themselves.' + +Robert fingered the scar on his forehead where he had hit it against the +nursery fender when he was little. + +'But does everyone have rooms like this, poor people and all?' asked +Anthea. + +'There's a room like this wherever there's a child, of course,' said the +lady. '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 see +you haven't done your Duties of Citizenship Course yet.' + +'But beggars, and people like that?' persisted Anthea 'and tramps and +people who haven't any homes?' + +'People who haven't any homes?' repeated the lady. 'I really DON'T +understand what you're talking about.' + +'It's all different in our country,' said Cyril carefully; and I have +read it used to be different in London. Usedn't people to have no homes +and beg because they were hungry? And wasn't London very black and +dirty once upon a time? And the Thames all muddy and filthy? And narrow +streets, 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 about +it 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 a +carpenter.' + +'Good gracious!' said Anthea; 'but you're a lady!' + +'Ah,' said the lady, 'that quaint old word! Well, my husband WILL enjoy +a talk with you. In the dark ages everyone was allowed to have a smoky +chimney, and those nasty horses all over the streets, and all sorts of +rubbish thrown into the Thames. And, of course, the sufferings of the +people will hardly bear thinking of. It's very learned of you to know it +all. Did you make Ancient History your special subject?' + +'Not exactly,' said Cyril, rather uneasily. 'What is the Duties of +Citizenship 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 must +do and what you mayn't do, so as to do your full share of the work of +making your town a beautiful and happy place for people to live in. +There's a quite simple little thing they teach the tiny children. How +does 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 are +heaps 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 a +tray 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 in +the dark ages, and he saw that what you ought to do is to find out what +you want and then try to get it. Up to then people had always tried +to tinker up what they'd got. We've got a great many of the things he +thought 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 meet +your Daddy.' + +Wells kissed her, waved to the others, and went. + +'Look here,' said Anthea suddenly, 'would you like to come to OUR +country, 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 the +beautiful, 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, ugly +place!' + +She ran to the window and looked out. The sky was grey, the street was +foggy, a dismal organ-grinder was standing opposite the door, a beggar +and a man who sold matches were quarrelling at the edge of the pavement +on whose greasy black surface people hurried along, hastening to get to +the shelter of their houses. + +'Oh, look at their faces, their horrible faces!' she cried. 'What's the +matter 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 of +magic-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, they +spoke the words, and pushed the lady through it into her own time and +place, where London is clean and beautiful, and the Thames runs clear +and 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 special +subject,' said Cyril. 'I wonder if Father could put me through it. I +shall ask him when he comes home.' + +'If we'd found the Amulet, Father could be home NOW,' said Anthea, 'and +Mother and The Lamb.' + +'Let's go into the future AGAIN,' suggested Jane brightly. 'Perhaps we +could remember if it wasn't such an awful way off.' + +So they did. This time they said, 'The future, where the Amulet is, not +so far away.' + +And they went through the familiar arch into a large, light room with +three windows. Facing them was the familiar mummy-case. And at a table +by the window sat the learned gentleman. They knew him at once, though +his 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 so +used to. + +'Dreams, dreams!' he said; 'old age is full of them!' + +'You've been in dreams with us before now,' said Robert, 'don't you +remember?' + +'I do, indeed,' said he. The room had many more books than the Fitzroy +Street room, and far more curious and wonderful Assyrian and Egyptian +objects. '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 that +you 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 little +mysteries. You dear children! What a difference you made to that old +Bloomsbury house! I wish I could dream you oftener. Now you're grown up +you'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, two +gentlemen--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,' Anthea +with some insight whispered back. 'You see, you get used to yourself +while you're changing. It's--it's being so sudden makes it seem so +frightful now.' + +The learned gentleman was looking at them with wistful kindness. 'Don't +let 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 3rd +December, 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, 'and +what a lovely garden!' + +'Yes,' said he, 'I'm too old now to care even about being near the +Museum. This is a beautiful place. Do you know--I can hardly believe +you're just a dream, you do look so exactly real. Do you know...' his +voice dropped, 'I can say it to YOU, though, of course, if I said it to +anyone that wasn't a dream they'd call me mad; there was something about +that Amulet you gave me--something very mysterious.' + +'There was that,' said Robert. + +'Ah, I don't mean your pretty little childish mysteries about where you +got it. But about the thing itself. First, the wonderful dreams I used +to have, after you'd shown me the first half of it! Why, my book on +Atlantis, 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 the +Roman Invasion"--that was only a pamphlet, but it explained a lot of +things people hadn't understood.' + +'Yes,' said Anthea, 'it would.' + +'That was the beginning. But after you'd given me the whole of the +Amulet--ah, it was generous of you!--then, somehow, I didn't need to +theorize, I seemed to KNOW about the old Egyptian civilization. And +they can't upset my theories'--he rubbed his thin hands and laughed +triumphantly--'they can't, though they've tried. Theories, they call +them, but they're more like--I don't know--more like memories. I KNOW +I'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, at +Fitzroy Street.' + +'Indeed I wasn't,' said he, 'but I am now. This beautiful house and this +lovely garden--I dig in it sometimes; you remember, you used to tell +me to take more exercise? Well, I feel I owe it all to you--and the +Amulet.' + +'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 the +Amulet--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 little +sister--I dream of her sometimes. But it's not real like this. Do you +remember the day I dreamed you brought me the Babylonish ring?' + +'We remember it all,' said Robert. 'Did you leave Fitzroy Street because +you were too rich for it?' + +'Oh, no!' he said reproachfully. 'You know I should never have done such +a thing as that. Of course, I left when your old Nurse died and--what's +the 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 glad +you're rich and famous and happy.' + +'DO come!' cried Jane, stamping in her agony of impatience. And they +went. Old Nurse brought in tea almost as soon as they were back in +Fitzroy Street. As she came in with the tray, the girls rushed at her +and 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, please +Heaven! 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 her +on the back with heartfelt affection. + +'I'm as well as ever I was in my life,' she said. 'What nonsense about +dying! 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 love +you. Get it out, Squirrel.' + +The glazed testimonial was dragged out from under the sofa and +displayed. + +'The glue's not dry yet,' said Cyril, 'look out!' + +'What a beauty!' cried old Nurse. 'Well, I never! And your pictures and +the beautiful writing and all. Well, I always did say your hearts was in +the right place, if a bit careless at times. Well! I never did! I don't +know 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 the +Psammead with laborious gentleness to put the question. 'How is it we +can remember what we saw in the future, and yet, when we WERE in the +future, 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 cannot +remember what hasn't happened yet.' + +'But the FUTURE hasn't happened yet,' Anthea persisted, 'and we remember +that 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't +you? So why not visions? You never do seem to understand the simplest +thing.' + +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 you +don'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 lake +and Prussian blue. If you mix Vermilion and Indigo you get the most +loathsome slate colour.' + +'Sepia's the nastiest colour in the box, I think,' said Jane, sucking +her brush. + +They were all painting. Nurse in the flush of grateful emotion, excited +by Robert's border of poppies, had presented each of the four with a +shilling paint-box, and had supplemented the gift with a pile of old +copies 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,' said +Robert. '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 get +Tyrian 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 have +to.' + +'I'd rather not have the purple,' said Anthea. + +'The Tyrian purple wasn't that colour when it came out of the fish, nor +yet afterwards, it wasn't,' said Robert; 'it was scarlet really, and +Roman Emperors wore it. And it wasn't any nice colour while the fish had +it. 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, naturally +annoyed, '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 rather +annoying tone, 'it wasn't a newspaper, it was in a book.' + +'How sweet Chinese white is!' said Jane, dreamily sucking her brush +again. + +'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 fish +turning 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 stop +painting because, as she said, Chinese white, though certainly sweet, +gives you a queer feeling in the back of the throat if you paint with it +too long. + +The Amulet was held up. 'Take us somewhere,' said Jane, 'anywhere you +like in the Past--but somewhere where you are.' Then she said the word. + +Next moment everyone felt a queer rocking and swaying--something like +what you feel when you go out in a fishing boat. And that was not +wonderful, when you come to think of it, for it was in a boat that they +found themselves. A queer boat, with high bulwarks pierced with holes +for oars to go through. There was a high seat for the steersman, and +the prow was shaped like the head of some great animal with big, staring +eyes. 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 no +clothes except a tunic from waist to knee, and round caps with knobs +on the top. They were very busy, and what they were doing was so +interesting to the children that at first they did not even wonder where +the Amulet had brought them. And the crew seemed too busy to notice the +children. They were fastening rush baskets to a long rope with a great +piece of cork at the end, and in each basket they put mussels or little +frogs. Then they cast out the rope, the baskets sank, but the cork +floated. And all about on the blue water were other boats and all the +crews of all the boats were busy with ropes and baskets and frogs and +mussels. + +'Whatever are you doing?' Jane suddenly asked a man who had rather more +clothes 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 to +be very much surprised at these queerly-dressed stowaways. + +'Setting lines for the dye shell-fish,' he said shortly. 'How did you +get here?' + +'A sort of magic,' said Robert carelessly. The Captain fingered an +Amulet 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 low +voice 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 of +it,' said Anthea. + +'And the Amulet's here too,' said Robert. 'We ought to be able to find +it 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 of +the sailors gleamed something red. It was the exact counterpart of their +precious 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 man +somewhere before.' + +'He's rather like our learned gentleman,' said Robert, 'but I'll tell +you who he's much more like--' At that moment that sailor looked up. His +eyes met Robert's--and Robert and the others had no longer any doubt as +to where they had seen him before. It was Rekh-mara, the priest who +had led them to the palace of Pharaoh--and whom Jane had looked back at +through the arch, when he was counselling Pharaoh's guard to take the +jewels 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 Amulet +through the folds of her frock, 'We can go back in a minute if anything +nasty happens.' + +For the moment nothing worse happened than an offer of food--figs and +cucumbers it was, and very pleasant. + +'I see,' said the Captain, 'that you are from a far country. Since +you have honoured my boat by appearing on it, you must stay here +till morning. Then I will lead you to one of our great ones. He loves +strangers from far lands.' + +'Let's go home,' Jane whispered, 'all the frogs are drowning NOW. I +think 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 baskets +only open from outside--I vote we stay.' + +So they stayed. + +'That's Tyre over there,' said the Captain, who was evidently trying to +be civil. He pointed to a great island rock, that rose steeply from the +sea, crowned with huge walls and towers. There was another city on the +mainland. + +'That's part of Tyre, too,' said the Captain; 'it's where the great +merchants 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. The +Captain's face changed. He frowned, and his eyes blazed with fury. + +'Insolent young barbarian!' he cried. 'Do you call the ships of Tyre +LITTLE? 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 the +Tin Islands. She comes back rich and glorious. Her very anchor is of +silver.' + +'I'm sure we beg your pardon,' said Anthea hastily. 'In our country we +say "little" for a pet name. Your wife might call you her dear little +husband, you know.' + +'I should like to catch her at it,' growled the Captain, but he stopped +scowling. + +'It's a rich trade,' he went on. 'For cloth ONCE dipped, second-best +glass, and the rough images our young artists carve for practice, the +barbarian King in Tessos lets us work the silver mines. We get so much +silver there that we leave them our iron anchors and come back with +silver ones.' + +'How splendid!' said Robert. 'Do go on. What's cloth once dipped?' + +'You MUST be barbarians from the outer darkness,' said the Captain +scornfully. 'All wealthy nations know that our finest stuffs are twice +dyed--dibaptha. They're only for the robes of kings and priests and +princes.' + +'What do the rich merchants wear,' asked Jane, with interest, 'in the +pleasure-houses?' + +'They wear the dibaptha. OUR merchants ARE princes,' scowled the +skipper. + +'Oh, don't be cross, we do so like hearing about things. We want to know +ALL 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 the +time the long, narrow eyes of the Egyptian were watching, watching. They +felt as though he was watching them through the darkness, when they lay +down to sleep on a pile of cloaks. + +Next morning the baskets were drawn up full of what looked like whelk +shells. + +The children were rather in the way, but they made themselves as small +as they could. While the skipper was at the other end of the boat they +did ask one question of a sailor, whose face was a little less unkind +than the others. + +'Yes,' he answered, 'this is the dye-fish. It's a sort of murex--and +there'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 quite +different. 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 was +made fast in one of the two great harbours that lay inside a long +breakwater. The harbour was full of all sorts of ships, so that +Cyril and Robert enjoyed themselves much more than their sisters. The +breakwater and the quays were heaped with bales and baskets, and crowded +with 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 are +not more skilful. Why, we've got a fresh-water spring that comes out at +the bottom of the sea. Our divers dive down and bring up the fresh water +in skin bottles! Can your barbarian divers do as much?' + +'I suppose not,' said Robert, and put away a wild desire to explain +to the Captain the English system of waterworks, pipes, taps, and the +intricacies of the plumbers' trade. + +As they neared the quay the skipper made a hasty toilet. He did his +hair, combed his beard, put on a garment like a jersey with short +sleeves, an embroidered belt, a necklace of beads, and a big signet +ring. + +'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 you +of, 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 my +powers of magic. It was my magic that brought these barbarians to your +boat. And you know how they will profit you. I read your thoughts. Let +me come with you and see the end of them, and then I will work the spell +I promised you in return for the little experience you have so kindly +given 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, come +on.' + +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 good +and so unusual; they had actually seen the Amulet round the Egyptian's +neck. One or two, or all these things, suddenly raised the children's +spirits. They went off quite cheerfully through the city gate--it was +not arched, but roofed over with a great flat stone--and so through the +street, which smelt horribly of fish and garlic and a thousand other +things even less agreeable. But far worse than the street scents was the +scent of the factory, where the skipper called in to sell his night's +catch. I wish I could tell you all about that factory, but I haven't +time, and perhaps after all you aren't interested in dyeing works. I +will only mention that Robert was triumphantly proved to be right. The +dye WAS a yellowish-white liquid of a creamy consistency, and it smelt +more strongly of garlic than garlic itself does. + +While the skipper was bargaining with the master of the dye works the +Egyptian 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 you +distrust 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 yet +the pin that joined them. Our only chance of getting that is to remain +together. Once part these two halves and they may never be found in the +same time and place. Be wise. Our interests are the same.' + +Before anyone could say more the skipper came back, and with him the +dye-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 gold +and embroidery. He had necklaces of beads and silver, and a glass amulet +with a man's face, very like his own, set between two bull's heads, as +well as gold and silver bracelets and armlets. He looked keenly at the +children. Then he said-- + +'My brother Pheles has just come back from Tarshish. He's at his garden +house--unless he's hunting wild boar in the marshes. He gets frightfully +bored on shore.' + +'Ah,' said the skipper, 'he's a true-born Phoenician. "Tyre, Tyre for +ever! 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? What +frightful clothes, and what a lot of them! Observe the covering of their +feet. 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 backward +into the great sunken vat just near him. But if he had, flight would +have had to be the next move, so he restrained his impulse. + +There was something about this Tyrian adventure that was different from +all the others. It was, somehow, calmer. And there was the undoubted +fact that the charm was there on the neck of the Egyptian. + +So they enjoyed everything to the full, the row from the Island City to +the shore, the ride on the donkeys that the skipper hired at the gate of +the mainland city, and the pleasant country--palms and figs and cedars +all about. It was like a garden--clematis, honeysuckle, and jasmine +clung about the olive and mulberry trees, and there were tulips and +gladiolus, and clumps of mandrake, which has bell-flowers that look as +though they were cut out of dark blue jewels. In the distance were the +mountains of Lebanon. The house they came to at last was rather like +a bungalow--long and low, with pillars all along the front. Cedars and +sycamores grew near it and sheltered it pleasantly. + +Everyone dismounted, and the donkeys were led away. + +'Why is this like Rosherville?' whispered Robert, and instantly supplied +the 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 ripping +place,' said Cyril. + +'Do you know,' said Anthea, 'this feels more real than anything else +we'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, done +with wonderful pictures of ships and sea-beasts and fishes. Through an +open doorway they could see a pleasant courtyard with flowers. + +'I should like to spend a week here,' said Jane, 'and donkey ride every +day.' + +Everyone was feeling very jolly. Even the Egyptian looked pleasanter +than usual. And then, quite suddenly, the skipper came back with a +joyous smile. With him came the master of the house. He looked steadily +at the children and nodded twice. + +'Yes,' he said, 'my steward will pay you the price. But I shall not pay +at 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,' he +added, 'has sold us all for slaves!' + + +A hasty council succeeded the shock of this announcement. The Priest was +allowed to take part in it. His advice was 'stay', because they were in +no 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 after +some discussion they agreed to this. + +The children were treated more as guests than as slaves, but the +Egyptian was sent to the kitchen and made to work. + +Pheles, the master of the house, went off that very evening, by the +King's orders, to start on another voyage. And when he was gone his wife +found the children amusing company, and kept them talking and singing +and dancing till quite late. 'To distract my mind from my sorrows,' she +said. + +'I do like being a slave,' remarked Jane cheerfully, as they curled up +on the big, soft cushions that were to be their beds. + +It was black night when they were awakened, each by a hand passed softly +over 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 man +who brought us has gone to sea again, and he has taken my Amulet from me +by force, and I know no magic to get it back. Is there magic for that in +the Amulet you bear?' + +Everyone was instantly awake by now. + +'We can go after him,' said Cyril, leaping up; 'but he might take OURS +as well; or he might be angry with us for following him.' + +'I'll see to THAT,' said the Egyptian in the dark. 'Hide your Amulet +well.' + +There in the deep blackness of that room in the Tyrian country house the +Amulet was once more held up and the word spoken. + +All passed through on to a ship that tossed and tumbled on a wind-blown +sea. They crouched together there till morning, and Jane and Cyril were +not at all well. When the dawn showed, dove-coloured, across the steely +waves, they stood up as well as they could for the tumbling of the ship. +Pheles, that hardy sailor and adventurer, turned quite pale when he +turned round suddenly and saw them. + +'Well!' he said, 'well, I never did!' + +'Master,' said the Egyptian, bowing low, and that was even more +difficult than standing up, 'we are here by the magic of the sacred +Amulet 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 was +not. + +'Then,' said Pheles, 'I don't mind telling you that we're bound for the +Tin Isles. Tyre alone knows where the Tin Isles are. It is a splendid +secret we keep from all the world. It is as great a thing to us as your +magic to you.' + +He spoke in quite a new voice, and seemed to respect both the children +and 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 brave +gentlemen and this crew. You shall go with us, and see many wonders.' He +bowed and left them. + +'What are we going to do now?' said Robert, when Pheles had caused them +to be left along with a breakfast of dried fruits and a sort of hard +biscuit. + +'Wait till he lands in the Tin Isles,' said Rekh-mara, 'then we can +get the barbarians to help us. We will attack him by night and tear the +sacred Amulet from his accursed heathen neck,' he added, grinding his +teeth. + +'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 too +unwell 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! Wish +that we were where the Amulet will be when the ship is twenty miles from +the 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 setting +in a pale yellow line. It was the same ship, but it was changed, and +so were the crew. Weather-worn and dirty were the sailors, and their +clothes torn and ragged. And the children saw that, of course, though +they 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 it +daily these nine months--and now you are here? Have you no magic that +can help?' + +'What is your need?' asked the Egyptian quietly. + +'I need a great wave that shall whelm away the foreign ship that follows +us. A month ago it lay in wait for us, by the pillars of the gods, and +it follows, follows, to find out the secret of Tyre--the place of the +Tin Islands. If I could steer by night I could escape them yet, but +tonight 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 show +you 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 of +indiarubber, 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's +magic truth. + +'I will give it to you,' Robert said, 'in return for that charm about +your neck.' + +Pheles made no answer. He first laughed, snatched the compass from +Robert'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 by +the shilling compass from the Crystal Palace. + +No one ever knew how the other ship sailed, but suddenly, in the deep +night, 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 a +moment, then suddenly he altered the ship's course, and then he stood up +and spoke. + +'Good friends and gentlemen,' he said, 'who are bound with me in this +brave venture by our King's command, the false, foreign ship is close +on our heels. If we land, they land, and only the gods know whether they +might not beat us in fight, and themselves survive to carry back the +tale of Tyre's secret island to enrich their own miserable land. Shall +this be?' + +'Never!' cried the half-dozen men near him. The slaves were rowing hard +below 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 chain +that held it snapped, and it lay in the Priest's hand. + +Pheles laughed, standing balanced to the leap of the ship that answered +the oarstroke. + +'This is no time for charms and mummeries,' he said. 'We've lived like +men, and we'll die like gentlemen for the honour and glory of Tyre, our +splendid city. "Tyre, Tyre for ever! It's Tyre that rules the waves." I +steer 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 as +slaves--and slaves they shall be to us--when we live again. Tyre, Tyre +for 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 the +one he had snatched from Pheles. The word was spoken, and the two great +arches grew on the plunging ship in the shrieking wind under the dark +sky. From each Amulet a great and beautiful green light streamed and +shone far out over the waves. It illuminated, too, the black faces and +jagged teeth of the great rocks that lay not two ships' lengths from the +boat's peaked nose. + +'Tyre, Tyre for ever! It's Tyre that rules the waves!' the voices of the +doomed rose in a triumphant shout. The children scrambled through the +arch, and stood trembling and blinking in the Fitzroy Street parlour, +and in their ears still sounded the whistle of the wind, and the rattle +of the oars, the crash of the ships bow on the rocks, and the last shout +of the brave gentlemen-adventurers who went to their deaths singing, for +the 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 was +the 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 years +older, but at any rate it's not the other one. What did you say when you +wished?' + +'I forget,' said Jane. + +'I don't,' said the Psammead. 'You said, "Take us where YOU are"--and it +did, 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 with +that 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 Past +again till that date. You'll find it safer not to go where you're likely +to meet that Egyptian any more just at present.' + +'Of course we'll do as you say,' said Anthea soothingly, 'though there's +something about his face that I really do like.' + +'Still, you don't want to run after him, I suppose,' snapped the +Psammead. '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 even +the Psammead, at all foresaw, as you no doubt do quite plainly, exactly +what 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 very +wet day, go through their Amulet Arch into the golden desert, and there +find the great Temple of Baalbec and meet with the Phoenix whom they +never thought to see again. And how the Phoenix did not remember them at +all until it went into a sort of prophetic trance--if that can be called +remembering. But, alas! I HAVEN'T time, so I must leave all that out +though it was a wonderfully thrilling adventure. I must leave out, too, +all about the visit of the children to the Hippodrome with the Psammead +in its travelling bag, and about how the wishes of the people round +about them were granted so suddenly and surprisingly that at last the +Psammead had to be taken hurriedly home by Anthea, who consequently +missed half the performance. Then there was the time when, Nurse having +gone to tea with a friend out Ivalunk way, they were playing 'devil in +the dark'--and in the midst of that most creepy pastime the postman's +knock 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 they +should be safe. And safe they were, for she never thought of them again +for weeks and weeks. + +One really good thing happened when they took the Psammead to a +magic-lantern show and lecture at the boys' school at Camden Town. The +lecture was all about our soldiers in South Africa. And the lecturer +ended up by saying, 'And I hope every boy in this room has in his heart +the seeds of courage and heroism and self-sacrifice, and I wish that +every one of you may grow up to be noble and brave and unselfish, worthy +citizens of this great Empire for whom our soldiers have freely given +their lives.' + +And, of course, this came true--which was a distinct score for Camden +Town. + +As Anthea said, it was unlucky that the lecturer said boys, because now +she and Jane would have to be noble and unselfish, if at all, without +any outside help. But Jane said, 'I daresay we are already because of +our beautiful natures. It's only boys that have to be made brave by +magic'--which nearly led to a first-class row. + +And I daresay you would like to know all about the affair of the fishing +rod, and the fish-hooks, and the cook next door--which was amusing from +some points of view, though not perhaps the cook's--but there really is +no time even for that. + +The only thing that there's time to tell about is the Adventure of +Maskelyne and Cooke's, and the Unexpected Apparition--which is also the +beginning of the end. + +It was Nurse who broke into the gloomy music of the autumn rain on the +window panes by suggesting a visit to the Egyptian Hall, England's Home +of Mystery. Though they had good, but private reasons to know that their +own particular personal mystery was of a very different brand, the +four all brightened at the idea. All children, as well as a good many +grown-ups, love conjuring. + +'It's in Piccadilly,' said old Nurse, carefully counting out the proper +number of shillings into Cyril's hand, 'not so very far down on the left +from the Circus. There's big pillars outside, something like Carter's +seed place in Holborn, as used to be Day and Martin's blacking when I +was 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 saw +no pillared building that was at all like Carter's seed warehouse or +Euston Station or England's Home of Mystery as they remembered it. + +At last they stopped a hurried lady, and asked her the way to Maskelyne +and Cooke's. + +'I don't know, I'm sure,' she said, pushing past them. 'I always shop +at the Stores.' Which just shows, as Jane said, how ignorant grown-up +people are. + +It was a policeman who at last explained to them that England's +Mysteries are now appropriately enough enacted at St George's Hall. + +So they tramped to Langham Place, and missed the first two items in +the programme. But they were in time for the most wonderful magic +appearances and disappearances, which they could hardly believe--even +with all their knowledge of a larger magic--was not really magic after +all. + +'If only the Babylonians could have seen THIS conjuring,' whispered +Cyril. '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 eyes +were fixed on the stage where Mr Devant was pouring out glasses of all +sorts of different things to drink, out of one kettle with one spout, +and the audience were delightedly tasting them, that Robert felt someone +in that vacant seat. He did not feel someone sit down in it. It was just +that 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 was +Rekh-mara, the Priest of Amen! + +Though the eyes of the audience were fixed on Mr David Devant, Mr David +Devant's eyes were fixed on the audience. And it happened that his eyes +were more particularly fixed on that empty chair. So that he saw quite +plainly 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 a +trick that he could not do himself if he tried. + +By this time a good many eyes in the audience had turned on the +clean-shaven, curiously-dressed figure of the Egyptian Priest. + +'Ladies and gentlemen,' said Mr Devant, rising to the occasion, 'this +is a trick I have never before performed. The empty seat, third from +the end, second row, gallery--you will now find occupied by an Ancient +Egyptian, warranted genuine.' + +He little knew how true his words were. + +And now all eyes were turned on the Priest and the children, and the +whole audience, after a moment's breathless surprise, shouted applause. +Only the lady on the other side of Rekh-mara drew back a little. She +KNEW no one had passed her, and, as she said later, over tea and cold +tongue, '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 you +apart.' + +'Oh, no,' Jane whispered. 'I did so want to see the Mascot Moth, and the +Ventriloquist.' + +'How did you get here?' was Robert's return whisper. + +'How did you get to Egypt and to Tyre?' retorted Rekh-mara. 'Come, let +us leave this crowd.' + +'There's no help for it, I suppose,' Robert shrugged angrily. But they +all got up. + +'Confederates!' said a man in the row behind. 'Now they go round to the +back and take part in the next scene.' + +'I wish we did,' said Robert. + +'Confederate yourself!' said Cyril. And so they got away, the audience +applauding to the last. + +In the vestibule of St George's Hall they disguised Rekh-mara as well as +they could, but even with Robert's hat and Cyril's Inverness cape he was +too striking a figure for foot-exercise in the London streets. It had to +be a cab, and it took the last, least money of all of them. They stopped +the cab a few doors from home, and then the girls went in and engaged +old Nurse's attention by an account of the conjuring and a fervent +entreaty for dripping-toast with their tea, leaving the front door open +so that while Nurse was talking to them the boys could creep quietly +in with Rekh-mara and smuggle him, unseen, up the stairs into their +bedroom. + +When the girls came up they found the Egyptian Priest sitting on the +side of Cyril's bed, his hands on his knees, looking like a statue of a +king. + +'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 more +interesting if you keep following us about in a decent country with no +more 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 years +later than YOUR time.' + +'The Amulet, then,' said the Priest, deeply thoughtful, 'gives the power +to move to and fro in time as well as in space?' + +'That's about it,' said Cyril gruffly. 'Look here, it'll be tea-time +directly. What are we to do with you?' + +'You have one-half of the Amulet, I the other,' said Rekh-mara. 'All +that is now needed is the pin to join them.' + +'Don't you think it,' said Robert. 'The half you've got is the same half +as the one we've got.' + +'But the same thing cannot be in the same place and the same time, and +yet be not one, but twain,' said the Priest. 'See, here is my half.' He +laid it on the Marcella counterpane. 'Where is yours?' + +Jane watching the eyes of the others, unfastened the string of the +Amulet and laid it on the bed, but too far off for the Priest to seize +it, even if he had been so dishonourable. Cyril and Robert stood beside +him, ready to spring on him if one of his hands had moved but ever so +little towards the magic treasure that was theirs. But his hands did not +move, only his eyes opened very wide, and so did everyone else's for +the Amulet the Priest had now quivered and shook; and then, as steel is +drawn to the magnet, it was drawn across the white counterpane, nearer +and nearer to the Amulet, warm from the neck of Jane. And then, as one +drop of water mingles with another on a rain-wrinkled window-pane, as +one bead of quick-silver is drawn into another bead, Rekh-mara's Amulet +slipped into the other one, and, behold! there was no more but the one +Amulet! + +'Black magic!' cried Rekh-mara, and sprang forward to snatch the Amulet +that had swallowed his. But Anthea caught it up, and at the same moment +the 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 his +sides. Before he had time to use his strength to free himself, Robert +had knotted the cord behind him and tied it to the bedpost. Then the +four children, overcoming the priest's wrigglings and kickings, tied his +legs with more rope. + +'I thought,' said Robert, breathing hard, and drawing the last knot +tight, 'he'd have a try for OURS, so I got the ropes out of the +box-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 with +the 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 as +much right to the thing as we have. This,' she took up the Amulet that +had swallowed the other one, 'this has got his in it as well as being +ours. 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 that +window and call the police--the guards, you know--and tell them you've +been 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 been +held in the far corner by the washhand-stand and the towel-horse, a +counsel rather long and very earnest. + +At last Anthea detached herself from the group, and went back to the +Priest. + +'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 the +Amulet--the whole one, I mean. And then it shall belong to you as much +as 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 WANT +to be fair? Only we want to bind you in the chains of honour and upright +dealing.' + +'Will you deal fairly by us?' said Robert. + +'I will,' said the Priest. 'By the sacred, secret name that is written +under 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't +swear 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 a +thing--it's the same as an oath to us--we do it. You trust us, and we'll +trust you.' She began to unbind his legs, and the boys hastened to untie +his 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 have +sworn by nothing, and my oath is nothing likewise. For there IS no +secret, sacred name under the altar of Amen-Ra.' + +'Oh, yes there is!' said a voice from under the bed. Everyone +started--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 Temple +of Amen,' said the Psammead shaking itself till the sand fell tinkling +on the bath edge. 'There IS a secret, sacred name beneath the altar of +Amen-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 his +natural brownness, 'I was only going to say that though there isn't any +name under--' + +'There IS,' said the Psammead threateningly. + +'Well, even if there WASN'T, I will be bound by the wordless oath +of your strangely upright land, and having said that I will be your +friend--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 go +down 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 with +Rekh-mara till then?' + +'Box-room,' said Cyril briefly, 'and smuggle up his meals. It will be +rather fun.' + +'Like a fleeing Cavalier concealed from exasperated Roundheads,' said +Robert. 'Yes.' + +So Rekh-mara was taken up to the box-room and made as comfortable as +possible in a snug nook between an old nursery fender and the wreck of +a 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 when +they had had their own tea they took him some. He did not like the tea +at 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 him +fairly happy and quite settled for the night. + + +But when they went up in the morning with a kipper, a quarter of which +each of them had gone without at breakfast, Rekh-mara was gone! There +was the cosy corner with the rag-bag, and the moth-eaten fur coat--but +the cosy corner was empty. + +'Good riddance!' was naturally the first delightful thought in each +mind. The second was less pleasing, because everyone at once remembered +that since his Amulet had been swallowed up by theirs--which hung +once more round the neck of Jane--he could have no possible means of +returning 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 half +Amulet straight away, get the whole Amulet, and come back.' + +'I don't know,' Anthea hesitated. 'Would that be quite fair? Perhaps he +isn'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, and +accidentally 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 of +those big trunks in the box-room. SHALL WE GO BACK AND LOOK?' he added +grimly. + +'No, no!' Jane shuddered. 'Let's go and tell the Psammead and see what +it says.' + +'No,' said Anthea, 'let's ask the learned gentleman. If anything has +happened to Rekh-mara a gentleman's advice would be more useful than a +Psammead's. And the learned gentleman'll only think it's a dream, like +he always does.' + +They tapped at the door, and on the 'Come in' entered. The learned +gentleman 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 the +dream will go. I am learning... Oh, what have I not learned in the last +hour!' + +'In the grey dawn,' said the Priest, 'I left my hiding-place, and +finding myself among these treasures from my own country, I remained. I +feel 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 ones +than ye can control. Already,' he explained to the children, 'he and I +are 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 to +do.' + +Rekh-mara hesitated, then told--and, oddly enough, none of the children +ever could remember afterwards what it was that he did tell. Perhaps he +used some magic to prevent their remembering. + +When he had done the learned gentleman was silent, leaning his elbow on +the table and his head on his hand. + +'Dear Jimmy,' said Anthea gently, 'don't worry about it. We are sure to +find 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 infinitely +desirable 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 the +Amulet is unwatched. Wish to be with it, and that it shall be under your +hand.' + +It was the simplest thing in the world! And yet none of them had ever +thought of it. + +'Come,' cried Rekh-mara, leaping up. 'Come NOW!' + +'May--may I come?' the learned gentleman timidly asked. 'It's only a +dream, you know.' + +'Come, and welcome, oh brother,' Rekh-mara was beginning, but Cyril and +Robert with one voice cried, 'NO.' + +'You weren't with us in Atlantis,' Robert added, 'or you'd know better +than to let him come.' + +'Dear Jimmy,' said Anthea, 'please don't ask to come. We'll go and be +back 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 perfect +Amulet to which I and these children have equal claims.' + +Jane held up the Amulet--Rekh-mara went first--and they all passed +through the great arch into which the Amulet grew at the Name of Power. + +The learned gentleman saw through the arch a darkness lighted by smoky +gleams. He rubbed his eyes. And he only rubbed them for ten seconds. + + +The children and the Priest were in a small, dark chamber. A square +doorway of massive stone let in gleams of shifting light, and the sound +of many voices chanting a slow, strange hymn. They stood listening. Now +and then the chant quickened and the light grew brighter, as though fuel +had 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 Egyptian +shivering. 'Take the Amulet and come away. It is cold here in the +morning 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 hung +round her neck, only it was thicker. Twice as thick. + +'It's HERE!' she said, 'I've got it!' And she hardly knew the sound of +her 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 strong +magic. Listen.' + +The chanting voices seemed to have grown louder and fiercer, and light +stronger. + +'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't +you see we've got back?' The learned gentleman merely stared at her. + +'Miss Anthea--Miss Jane!' It was Nurse's voice, very much higher and +squeaky and more exalted than usual. + +'Oh, bother!' said everyone. Cyril adding, 'You just go on with the +dream for a sec, Mr Jimmy, we'll be back directly. Nurse'll come up if +we don't. SHE wouldn't think Rekh-mara was a dream.' + +Then they went down. Nurse was in the hall, an orange envelope in one +hand, and a pink paper in the other. + +'Your Pa and Ma's come home. "Reach London 11.15. Prepare rooms as +directed in letter", and signed in their two names.' + +'Oh, hooray! hooray! hooray!' shouted the boys and Jane. But Anthea +could not shout, she was nearer crying. + +'Oh,' she said almost in a whisper, 'then it WAS true. And we HAVE got +our hearts' desire.' + +'But I don't understand about the letter,' Nurse was saying. 'I haven't +HAD no letter.' + +'OH!' said Jane in a queer voice, 'I wonder whether it was one of +those... they came that night--you know, when we were playing "devil +in the dark"--and I put them in the hat-stand drawer, behind the +clothes-brushes and'--she pulled out the drawer as she spoke--'and here +they are!' + +There was a letter for Nurse and one for the children. The letters told +how Father had done being a war-correspondent and was coming home; and +how Mother and The Lamb were going to meet him in Italy and all come +home together; and how The Lamb and Mother were quite well; and how +a telegram would be sent to tell the day and the hour of their +home-coming. + +'Mercy me!' said old Nurse. 'I declare if it's not too bad of You, Miss +Jane. I shall have a nice to-do getting things straight for your Pa and +Ma.' + +'Oh, never mind, Nurse,' said Jane, hugging her; 'isn't it just too +lovely for anything!' + +'We'll come and help you,' said Cyril. 'There's just something upstairs +we'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. 'Nice +help 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 a +considerable something, too. And it took much longer than they expected. + +A hasty rush into the boys' room secured the Psammead, very sandy and +very cross. + +'It doesn't matter how cross and sandy it is though,' said Anthea, 'it +ought to be there at the final council.' + +'It'll give the learned gentleman fits, I expect,' said Robert, 'when he +sees it.' + +But it didn't. + +'The dream is growing more and more wonderful,' he exclaimed, when the +Psammead had been explained to him by Rekh-mara. 'I have dreamed this +beast before.' + +'Now,' said Robert, 'Jane has got the half Amulet and I've got the +whole. Show up, Jane.' + +Jane untied the string and laid her half Amulet on the table, littered +with dusty papers, and the clay cylinders marked all over with little +marks like the little prints of birds' little feet. Robert laid down the +whole Amulet, and Anthea gently restrained the eager hand of the learned +gentleman as it reached out yearningly towards the 'perfect specimen'. + +And then, just as before on the Marcella quilt, so now on the dusty +litter of papers and curiosities, the half Amulet quivered and shook, +and then, as steel is drawn to a magnet, it was drawn across the dusty +manuscripts, nearer and nearer to the perfect Amulet, warm from the +pocket of Robert. And then, as one drop of water mingles with another +when the panes of the window are wrinkled with rain, as one bead of +mercury is drawn into another bead, the half Amulet, that was the +children'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 breathless +silence. + +'Yes,' said Anthea, 'and we've got our hearts' desire. Father and Mother +and 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's +hesitation. 'A learning greater and deeper than that of any man of my +land and my time. But learning too great is useless. If I go back to my +own land and my own age, who will believe my tales of what I have seen +in the future? Let me stay here, be the great knower of all that has +been, in that our time, so living to me, so old to you, about which your +learned 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 your +lungs without feeling the effects of it, sooner or later. Prepare the +mystic circle and consult the Amulet.' + +'Oh, WHAT a dream!' cried the learned gentleman. 'Dear children, if +you love me--and I think you do, in dreams and out of them--prepare the +mystic 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 thick +and yellow with the fog that by some strange decree always attends the +Cattle Show week. And in the street costers were shouting. 'Ur Hekau +Setcheh,' Jane said the Name of Power. And instantly the light went +out, and all the sounds went out too, so that there was a silence and +a darkness, both deeper than any darkness or silence that you have ever +even dreamed of imagining. It was like being deaf or blind, only darker +and quieter even than that. + +Then out of that vast darkness and silence came a light and a voice. The +light was too faint to see anything by, and the voice was too small +for you to hear what it said. But the light and the voice grew. And the +light was the light that no man may look on and live, and the voice was +the sweetest and most terrible voice in the world. The children cast +down 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, terrible +voice, 'to any land or any time. Only when it was imperfect could such +things be. But men may pass through the perfect charm to the perfect +union, which is not of time or space.' + +'Would you be so very kind,' said Anthea tremulously, 'as to speak so +that we can understand you? The Psammead said something about Rekh-mara +not 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 that +other time and land there be found a soul so akin to it as to offer it +refuge, in the body of that land and time, that thus they two may be one +soul in one body.' + +The children exchanged discouraged glances. But the eyes of Rekh-mara +and the learned gentleman met, and were kind to each other, and promised +each other many things, secret and sacred and very beautiful. + +Anthea saw the look. 'Oh, but,' she said, without at all meaning to say +it, 'dear Jimmy's soul isn't at all like Rekh-mara's. I'm certain it +isn't. I don't want to be rude, but it ISN'T, you know. Dear Jimmy's +soul is as good as gold, and--' + +'Nothing that is not good can pass beneath the double arch of my perfect +Amulet,' 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 of +great 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 to +each 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 had +been there since the Name of Power had first been spoken--it glowed +with a light more bright yet more soft than the other light--a glory and +splendour and sweetness unspeakable. 'Come!' cried Rekh-mara, holding +out his hands. + +'Come!' cried the learned gentleman, and he also held out his hands. + +Each moved forward under the glowing, glorious arch of the perfect +Amulet. + +Then Rekh-mara quavered and shook, and as steel is drawn to a magnet +he was drawn, under the arch of magic, nearer and nearer to the learned +gentleman. And, as one drop of water mingles with another, when the +window-glass is rain-wrinkled, as one quick-silver bead is drawn to +another quick-silver bead, Rekh-mara, Divine Father of the Temple of +Amen-Ra, was drawn into, slipped into, disappeared into, and was one +with Jimmy, the good, the beloved, the learned gentleman. + +And suddenly it was good daylight and the December sun shone. The fog +has passed away like a dream. + +The Amulet was there--little and complete in jane's hand, and there +were the other children and the Psammead, and the learned gentleman. But +Rekh-mara--or the body of Rekh-mara--was not there any more. As for his +soul... + +'Oh, the horrid thing!' cried Robert, and put his foot on a centipede +as long as your finger, that crawled and wriggled and squirmed at the +learned 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 of +stubborn gentleness. + +'HIS heart's desire,' said the Psammead, 'is the perfect Amulet you hold +in your hand. Yes--and has been ever since he first saw the broken half +of it.' + +'We've got ours,' said Anthea softly. + +'Yes,' said the Psammead--its voice was crosser than they had ever heard +it--'your parents are coming home. And what's to become of ME? I shall +be found out, and made a show of, and degraded in every possible way. I +KNOW they'll make me go into Parliament--hateful place--all mud and no +sand. That beautiful Baalbec temple in the desert! Plenty of good sand +there, and no politics! I wish I were there, safe in the Past--that I +do.' + +'I wish you were,' said the learned gentleman absently, yet polite as +ever. + +The Psammead swelled itself up, turned its long snail's eyes in one +last lingering look at Anthea--a loving look, she always said, and +thought--and--vanished. + +'Well,' said Anthea, after a silence, 'I suppose it's happy. The only +thing it ever did really care for was SAND.' + +'My dear children,' said the learned gentleman, 'I must have fallen +asleep. 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 it +into the hand of the learned gentleman. 'Here--it's yours--your very +own--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 stairs +to 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 a +treasure! The dear children! It must be their affection that has given +me these luminous apercus. I seem to see so many things now--things I +never saw before! The dear children! The dear, dear children!' + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Story of the Amulet, by E. Nesbit + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF THE AMULET *** + +***** This file should be named 837.txt or 837.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/8/3/837/ + +Produced by Jo Churcher + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |