by E. Nesbit
CHAPTER 11. BEFORE PHARAOH
It was the day after the adventure of Julius Caesar and the Little BlackGirl that Cyril, bursting into the bathroom to wash his hands fordinner (you have no idea how dirty they were, for he had been playingshipwrecked mariners all the morning on the leads at the back of thehouse, where the water-cistern is), found Anthea leaning her elbows onthe edge of the bath, and crying steadily into it.
'Hullo!' he said, with brotherly concern, 'what's up now? Dinner'll becold before you've got enough salt-water for a bath.'
'Go away,' said Anthea fiercely. 'I hate you! I hate everybody!'
There was a stricken pause.
'_I_ didn't know,' said Cyril tamely.
'Nobody ever does know anything,' sobbed Anthea.
'I didn't know you were waxy. I thought you'd just hurt your fingerswith the tap again like you did last week,' Cyril carefully explained.
'Oh--fingers!' sneered Anthea through her sniffs.
'Here, drop it, Panther,' he said uncomfortably. 'You haven't beenhaving a row or anything?'
'No,' she said. 'Wash your horrid hands, for goodness' sake, if that'swhat you came for, or go.'
Anthea was so seldom cross that when she was cross the others werealways more surprised than angry.
Cyril edged along the side of the bath and stood beside her. He put hishand on her arm.
'Dry up, do,' he said, rather tenderly for him. And, finding that thoughshe did not at once take his advice she did not seem to resent it, heput his arm awkwardly across her shoulders and rubbed his head againsther ear.
'There!' he said, in the tone of one administering a priceless cure forall possible sorrows. 'Now, what's up?'
'Promise you won't laugh?'
'I don't feel laughish myself,' said Cyril, dismally.
'Well, then,' said Anthea, leaning her ear against his head, 'it'sMother.'
'What's the matter with Mother?' asked Cyril, with apparent want ofsympathy. 'She was all right in her letter this morning.'
'Yes; but I want her so.'
'You're not the only one,' said Cyril briefly, and the brevity of histone admitted a good deal.
'Oh, yes,' said Anthea, 'I know. We all want her all the time. But Iwant her now most dreadfully, awfully much. I never wanted anything somuch. That Imogen child--the way the ancient British Queen cuddled herup! And Imogen wasn't me, and the Queen was Mother. And then her letterthis morning! And about The Lamb liking the salt bathing! And she bathedhim in this very bath the night before she went away--oh, oh, oh!'
Cyril thumped her on the back.
'Cheer up,' he said. 'You know my inside thinking that I was doing?Well, that was partly about Mother. We'll soon get her back. If you'llchuck it, like a sensible kid, and wash your face, I'll tell you aboutit. That's right. You let me get to the tap. Can't you stop crying?Shall I put the door-key down your back?'
'That's for noses,' said Anthea, 'and I'm not a kid any more than youare,' but she laughed a little, and her mouth began to get back into itsproper shape. You know what an odd shape your mouth gets into when youcry in earnest.
'Look here,' said Cyril, working the soap round and round between hishands in a thick slime of grey soapsuds. 'I've been thinking. We've onlyjust PLAYED with the Amulet so far. We've got to work it now--WORK itfor all it's worth. And it isn't only Mother either. There's Father outthere all among the fighting. I don't howl about it, but I THINK--Oh,bother the soap!' The grey-lined soap had squirted out under thepressure of his fingers, and had hit Anthea's chin with as much force asthough it had been shot from a catapult.
'There now,' she said regretfully, 'now I shall have to wash my face.'
'You'd have had to do that anyway,' said Cyril with conviction. 'Now, myidea's this. You know missionaries?'
'Yes,' said Anthea, who did not know a single one.
'Well, they always take the savages beads and brandy, and stays, andhats, and braces, and really useful things--things the savages haven'tgot, and never heard about. And the savages love them for theirkind generousness, and give them pearls, and shells, and ivory, andcassowaries. And that's the way--'
'Wait a sec,' said Anthea, splashing. 'I can't hear what you're saying.Shells and--'
'Shells, and things like that. The great thing is to get people to loveyou by being generous. And that's what we've got to do. Next time we gointo the Past we'll regularly fit out the expedition. You remember howthe Babylonian Queen froze on to that pocket-book? Well, we'll takethings like that. And offer them in exchange for a sight of the Amulet.'
'A sight of it is not much good.'
'No, silly. But, don't you see, when we've seen it we shall know whereit is, and we can go and take it in the night when everybody is asleep.'
'It wouldn't be stealing, would it?' said Anthea thoughtfully, 'becauseit will be such an awfully long time ago when we do it. Oh, there's thatbell again.'
As soon as dinner was eaten (it was tinned salmon and lettuce, and a jamtart), and the cloth cleared away, the idea was explained to the others,and the Psammead was aroused from sand, and asked what it thought wouldbe good merchandise with which to buy the affection of say, the AncientEgyptians, and whether it thought the Amulet was likely to be found inthe Court of Pharaoh.
But it shook its head, and shot out its snail's eyes hopelessly.
'I'm not allowed to play in this game,' it said. 'Of course I COULD findout in a minute where the thing was, only I mayn't. But I may go so faras to own that your idea of taking things with you isn't a bad one. AndI shouldn't show them all at once. Take small things and conceal themcraftily about your persons.'
This advice seemed good. Soon the table was littered over with thingswhich the children thought likely to interest the Ancient Egyptians.Anthea brought dolls, puzzle blocks, a wooden tea-service, a greenleather case with Necessaire written on it in gold letters. AuntEmma had once given it to Anthea, and it had then contained scissors,penknife, bodkin, stiletto, thimble, corkscrew, and glove-buttoner. Thescissors, knife, and thimble, and penknife were, of course, lost, butthe other things were there and as good as new. Cyril contributed leadsoldiers, a cannon, a catapult, a tin-opener, a tie-clip, and a tennisball, and a padlock--no key. Robert collected a candle ('I don't supposethey ever saw a self-fitting paraffin one,' he said), a penny Japanesepin-tray, a rubber stamp with his father's name and address on it, and apiece of putty.
Jane added a key-ring, the brass handle of a poker, a pot that had heldcold-cream, a smoked pearl button off her winter coat, and a key--nolock.
'We can't take all this rubbish,' said Robert, with some scorn. 'We mustjust each choose one thing.'
The afternoon passed very agreeably in the attempt to choose from thetable the four most suitable objects. But the four children could notagree what was suitable, and at last Cyril said--
'Look here, let's each be blindfolded and reach out, and the first thingyou touch you stick to.'
This was done.
Cyril touched the padlock.
Anthea got the Necessaire.
Robert clutched the candle.
Jane picked up the tie-clip.
'It's not much,' she said. 'I don't believe Ancient Egyptians woreties.'
'Never mind,' said Anthea. 'I believe it's luckier not to really choose.In the stories it's always the thing the wood-cutter's son picks up inthe forest, and almost throws away because he thinks it's no good, thatturns out to be the magic thing in the end; or else someone's lost it,and he is rewarded with the hand of the King's daughter in marriage.'
'I don't want any hands in marriage, thank you.' said Cyril firmly.
'Nor yet me,' said Robert. 'It's always the end of the adventures whenit comes to the marriage hands.'
'ARE we ready?' said Anthea.
'It IS Egypt we're going to, isn't it?--nice Egypt?' said Jane. 'Iwon't go anywhere I don't know about--like that dreadful big-wavyburning-mountain city,' she insisted.
Then the Psammead was coaxed into its bag. 'I say,
' said Cyril suddenly,'I'm rather sick of kings. And people notice you so in palaces. Besidesthe Amulet's sure to be in a Temple. Let's just go among the commonpeople, and try to work ourselves up by degrees. We might get taken onas Temple assistants.'
'Like beadles,' said Anthea, 'or vergers. They must have splendidchances of stealing the Temple treasures.'
'Righto!' was the general rejoinder. The charm was held up. It grew bigonce again, and once again the warm golden Eastern light glowed softlybeyond it.
As the children stepped through it loud and furious voices rang in theirears. They went suddenly from the quiet of Fitzroy Street dining-roominto a very angry Eastern crowd, a crowd much too angry to notice them.They edged through it to the wall of a house and stood there. The crowdwas of men, women, and children. They were of all sorts of complexions,and pictures of them might have been coloured by any child witha shilling paint-box. The colours that child would have used forcomplexions would have been yellow ochre, red ochre, light red, sepia,and indian ink. But their faces were painted already--black eyebrowsand lashes, and some red lips. The women wore a sort of pinafore withshoulder straps, and loose things wound round their heads and shoulders.The men wore very little clothing--for they were the working people--andthe Egyptian boys and girls wore nothing at all, unless you countthe little ornaments hung on chains round their necks and waists. Thechildren saw all this before they could hear anything distinctly.
Everyone was shouting so.
But a voice sounded above the other voices, and presently it wasspeaking in a silence.
'Comrades and fellow workers,' it said, and it was the voice of atall, coppery-coloured man who had climbed into a chariot that had beenstopped by the crowd. Its owner had bolted, muttering something aboutcalling the Guards, and now the man spoke from it. 'Comrades and fellowworkers, how long are we to endure the tyranny of our masters, who livein idleness and luxury on the fruit of our toil? They only give us abare subsistence wage, and they live on the fat of the land. We labourall our lives to keep them in wanton luxury. Let us make an end of it!'
A roar of applause answered him.
'How are you going to do it?' cried a voice.
'You look out,' cried another, 'or you'll get yourself into trouble.'
'I've heard almost every single word of that,' whispered Robert, 'inHyde Park last Sunday!'
'Let us strike for more bread and onions and beer, and a longer mid-dayrest,' the speaker went on. 'You are tired, you are hungry, you arethirsty. You are poor, your wives and children are pining for food. Thebarns of the rich are full to bursting with the corn we want, the cornour labour has grown. To the granaries!'
'To the granaries!' cried half the crowd; but another voice shoutedclear above the tumult, 'To Pharaoh! To the King! Let's present apetition to the King! He will listen to the voice of the oppressed!'
For a moment the crowd swayed one way and another--first towards thegranaries and then towards the palace. Then, with a rush like that of animprisoned torrent suddenly set free, it surged along the street towardsthe palace, and the children were carried with it. Anthea found itdifficult to keep the Psammead from being squeezed very uncomfortably.
The crowd swept through the streets of dull-looking houses with fewwindows, very high up, across the market where people were not buyingbut exchanging goods. In a momentary pause Robert saw a basket of onionsexchanged for a hair comb and five fish for a string of beads. Thepeople in the market seemed better off than those in the crowd; theyhad finer clothes, and more of them. They were the kind of people who,nowadays, would have lived at Brixton or Brockley.
'What's the trouble now?' a languid, large-eyed lady in a crimped,half-transparent linen dress, with her black hair very much braided andpuffed out, asked of a date-seller.
'Oh, the working-men--discontented as usual,' the man answered. 'Listento them. Anyone would think it mattered whether they had a little moreor less to eat. Dregs of society!' said the date-seller.
'Scum!' said the lady.
'And I've heard THAT before, too,' said Robert.
At that moment the voice of the crowd changed, from anger to doubt, fromdoubt to fear. There were other voices shouting; they shouted defianceand menace, and they came nearer very quickly. There was the rattle ofwheels and the pounding of hoofs. A voice shouted, 'Guards!'
'The Guards! The Guards!' shouted another voice, and the crowd ofworkmen took up the cry. 'The Guards! Pharaoh's Guards!' And swaying alittle once more, the crowd hung for a moment as it were balanced. Thenas the trampling hoofs came nearer the workmen fled dispersed, up alleysand into the courts of houses, and the Guards in their embossed leatherchariots swept down the street at the gallop, their wheels clatteringover the stones, and their dark-coloured, blue tunics blown open andback with the wind of their going.
'So THAT riot's over,' said the crimped-linen-dressed lady; 'that'sa blessing! And did you notice the Captain of the Guard? What a veryhandsome man he was, to be sure!'
The four children had taken advantage of the moment's pause before thecrowd turned to fly, to edge themselves and drag each other into anarched doorway.
Now they each drew a long breath and looked at the others.
'We're well out of THAT,' said Cyril.
'Yes,' said Anthea, 'but I do wish the poor men hadn't been driven backbefore they could get to the King. He might have done something forthem.'
'Not if he was the one in the Bible he wouldn't,' said Jane. 'He had ahard heart.' 'Ah, that was the Moses one,' Anthea explained. 'The Josephone was quite different. I should like to see Pharaoh's house. I wonderwhether it's like the Egyptian Court in the Crystal Palace.'
'I thought we decided to try to get taken on in a Temple,' said Cyril ininjured tones.
'Yes, but we've got to know someone first. Couldn't we make friendswith a Temple doorkeeper--we might give him the padlock or something. Iwonder which are temples and which are palaces,' Robert added, glancingacross the market-place to where an enormous gateway with huge sidebuildings towered towards the sky. To right and left of it were otherbuildings only a little less magnificent.
'Did you wish to seek out the Temple of Amen Ra?' asked a soft voicebehind them, 'or the Temple of Mut, or the Temple of Khonsu?'
They turned to find beside them a young man. He was shaved clean fromhead to foot, and on his feet were light papyrus sandals. He was clothedin a linen tunic of white, embroidered heavily in colours. He was gaywith anklets, bracelets, and armlets of gold, richly inlaid. He worea ring on his finger, and he had a short jacket of gold embroiderysomething like the Zouave soldiers wear, and on his neck was a goldcollar with many amulets hanging from it. But among the amulets thechildren could see none like theirs.
'It doesn't matter which Temple,' said Cyril frankly.
'Tell me your mission,' said the young man. 'I am a divine father of theTemple of Amen Ra and perhaps I can help you.'
'Well,' said Cyril, 'we've come from the great Empire on which the sunnever sets.'
'I thought somehow that you'd come from some odd, out-of-the-way spot,'said the priest with courtesy.
'And we've seen a good many palaces. We thought we should like to see aTemple, for a change,' said Robert.
The Psammead stirred uneasily in its embroidered bag.
'Have you brought gifts to the Temple?' asked the priest cautiously.
'We HAVE got some gifts,' said Cyril with equal caution. 'You seethere's magic mixed up in it. So we can't tell you everything. But wedon't want to give our gifts for nothing.'
'Beware how you insult the god,' said the priest sternly. 'I also cando magic. I can make a waxen image of you, and I can say words which, asthe wax image melts before the fire, will make you dwindle away and atlast perish miserably.'
'Pooh!' said Cyril stoutly, 'that's nothing. _I_ can make FIRE itself!'
'I should jolly well like to see you do it,' said the priestunbelievingly.
'Well, you shall,' said Cyril, 'nothing easier. Just stand close roundme.'
'Do you need no preparation--no fasting, no incantations?' The priest'stone was incredulous.
'The incantation's quite short,' said Cyril, taking the hint; 'and asfor fasting, it's not needed in MY sort of magic. Union Jack, PrintingPress, Gunpowder, Rule Britannia! Come, Fire, at the end of this littlestick!'
He had pulled a match from his pocket, and as he ended the incantationwhich contained no words that it seemed likely the Egyptian had everheard he stooped in the little crowd of his relations and the priest andstruck the match on his boot. He stood up, shielding the flame with onehand.
'See?' he said, with modest pride. 'Here, take it into your hand.'
'No, thank you,' said the priest, swiftly backing. 'Can you do thatagain?'
'Yes.'
'Then come with me to the great double house of Pharaoh. He loves goodmagic, and he will raise you to honour and glory. There's no need ofsecrets between initiates,' he went on confidentially. 'The fact is,I am out of favour at present owing to a little matter of failure ofprophecy. I told him a beautiful princess would be sent to him fromSyria, and, lo! a woman thirty years old arrived. But she WAS abeautiful woman not so long ago. Time is only a mode of thought, youknow.'
The children thrilled to the familiar words.
'So you know that too, do you?' said Cyril.
'It is part of the mystery of all magic, is it not?' said the priest.'Now if I bring you to Pharaoh the little unpleasantness I spoke of willbe forgotten. And I will ask Pharaoh, the Great House, Son of the Sun,and Lord of the South and North, to decree that you shall lodge in theTemple. Then you can have a good look round, and teach me your magic.And I will teach you mine.'
This idea seemed good--at least it was better than any other which atthat moment occurred to anybody, so they followed the priest through thecity.
The streets were very narrow and dirty. The best houses, the priestexplained, were built within walls twenty to twenty-five feet high,and such windows as showed in the walls were very high up. The tops ofpalm-trees showed above the walls. The poor people's houses were littlesquare huts with a door and two windows, and smoke coming out of a holein the back.
'The poor Egyptians haven't improved so very much in their buildingsince the first time we came to Egypt,' whispered Cyril to Anthea.
The huts were roofed with palm branches, and everywhere there werechickens, and goats, and little naked children kicking about in theyellow dust. On one roof was a goat, who had climbed up and was eatingthe dry palm-leaves with snorts and head-tossings of delight. Over everyhouse door was some sort of figure or shape.
'Amulets,' the priest explained, 'to keep off the evil eye.'
'I don't think much of your "nice Egypt",' Robert whispered to Jane;'it's simply not a patch on Babylon.'
'Ah, you wait till you see the palace,' Jane whispered back.
The palace was indeed much more magnificent than anything they had yetseen that day, though it would have made but a poor show beside thatof the Babylonian King. They came to it through a great square pillareddoorway of sandstone that stood in a high brick wall. The shut doorswere of massive cedar, with bronze hinges, and were studded with bronzenails. At the side was a little door and a wicket gate, and throughthis the priest led the children. He seemed to know a word that made thesentries make way for him.
Inside was a garden, planted with hundreds of different kinds of treesand flowering shrubs, a lake full of fish, with blue lotus flowers atthe margin, and ducks swimming about cheerfully, and looking, as Janesaid, quite modern.
'The guard-chamber, the store-houses, the queen's house,' said thepriest, pointing them out.
They passed through open courtyards, paved with flat stones, and thepriest whispered to a guard at a great inner gate.
'We are fortunate,' he said to the children, 'Pharaoh is even now inthe Court of Honour. Now, don't forget to be overcome with respect andadmiration. It won't do any harm if you fall flat on your faces. Andwhatever you do, don't speak until you're spoken to.'
'There used to be that rule in our country,' said Robert, 'when myfather was a little boy.'
At the outer end of the great hall a crowd of people were arguing withand even shoving the Guards, who seemed to make it a rule not to letanyone through unless they were bribed to do it. The children heardseveral promises of the utmost richness, and wondered whether they wouldever be kept.
All round the hall were pillars of painted wood. The roof was of cedar,gorgeously inlaid. About half-way up the hall was a wide, shallow stepthat went right across the hall; then a little farther on another; andthen a steep flight of narrower steps, leading right up to the throne onwhich Pharaoh sat. He sat there very splendid, his red and white doublecrown on his head, and his sceptre in his hand. The throne had a canopyof wood and wooden pillars painted in bright colours. On a low, broadbench that ran all round the hall sat the friends, relatives, andcourtiers of the King, leaning on richly-covered cushions.
The priest led the children up the steps till they all stood before thethrone; and then, suddenly, he fell on his face with hands outstretched.The others did the same, Anthea falling very carefully because of thePsammead.
'Raise them,' said the voice of Pharaoh, 'that they may speak to me.'
The officers of the King's household raised them.
'Who are these strangers?' Pharaoh asked, and added very crossly, 'Andwhat do you mean, Rekh-mara, by daring to come into my presence whileyour innocence is not established?'
'Oh, great King,' said the young priest, 'you are the very image ofRa, and the likeness of his son Horus in every respect. You know thethoughts of the hearts of the gods and of men, and you have divinedthat these strangers are the children of the children of the vile andconquered Kings of the Empire where the sun never sets. They know amagic not known to the Egyptians. And they come with gifts in theirhands as tribute to Pharaoh, in whose heart is the wisdom of the gods,and on his lips their truth.'
'That is all very well,' said Pharaoh, 'but where are the gifts?'
The children, bowing as well as they could in their embarrassment atfinding themselves the centre of interest in a circle more grand, moregolden and more highly coloured than they could have imagined possible,pulled out the padlock, the Necessaire, and the tie-clip. 'But it's nottribute all the same,' Cyril muttered. 'England doesn't pay tribute!'
Pharaoh examined all the things with great interest when the chief ofthe household had taken them up to him. 'Deliver them to the Keeper ofthe Treasury,' he said to one near him. And to the children he said--
'A small tribute, truly, but strange, and not without worth. And themagic, O Rekh-mara?'
'These unworthy sons of a conquered nation...' began Rekh-mara.
'Nothing of the kind!' Cyril whispered angrily.
'... of a vile and conquered nation, can make fire to spring from drywood--in the sight of all.'
'I should jolly well like to see them do it,' said Pharaoh, just as thepriest had done.
So Cyril, without more ado, did it.
'Do more magic,' said the King, with simple appreciation.
'He cannot do any more magic,' said Anthea suddenly, and all eyes wereturned on her, 'because of the voice of the free people who are shoutingfor bread and onions and beer and a long mid-day rest. If the people hadwhat they wanted, he could do more.'
'A rude-spoken girl,' said Pharaoh. 'But give the dogs what they want,'he said, without turning his head. 'Let them have their rest and theirextra rations. There are plenty of slaves to work.'
A richly-dressed official hurried out.
'You will be the idol of the people,' Rekh-mara whispered joyously; 'theTemple of Amen will not contain their offerings.'
Cyril struck another match, and all the court was overwhelmed withdelight and wonder. And when Cyril took the candle from his pocket andlighted it with the match, and then held the burning candle up beforethe King the enthusiasm knew no bounds.
'Oh, greatest of all, before whom sun and moon and s
tars bow down,' saidRekh-mara insinuatingly, 'am I pardoned? Is my innocence made plain?'
'As plain as it ever will be, I daresay,' said Pharaoh shortly. 'Getalong with you. You are pardoned. Go in peace.' The priest went withlightning swiftness.
'And what,' said the King suddenly, 'is it that moves in that sack?
Show me, oh strangers.'
There was nothing for it but to show the Psammead.
'Seize it,' said Pharaoh carelessly. 'A very curious monkey. It will bea nice little novelty for my wild beast collection.'
And instantly, the entreaties of the children availing as little as thebites of the Psammead, though both bites and entreaties were fervent, itwas carried away from before their eyes.
'Oh, DO be careful!' cried Anthea. 'At least keep it dry! Keep it in itssacred house!'
She held up the embroidered bag.
'It's a magic creature,' cried Robert; 'it's simply priceless!'
'You've no right to take it away,' cried Jane incautiously. 'It's ashame, a barefaced robbery, that's what it is!'
There was an awful silence. Then Pharaoh spoke.
'Take the sacred house of the beast from them,' he said, 'and imprisonall. Tonight after supper it may be our pleasure to see more magic.Guard them well, and do not torture them--yet!'
'Oh, dear!' sobbed Jane, as they were led away. 'I knew exactly what itwould be! Oh, I wish you hadn't!'
'Shut up, silly,' said Cyril. 'You know you WOULD come to Egypt. It wasyour own idea entirely. Shut up. It'll be all right.'
'I thought we should play ball with queens,' sobbed Jane, 'and have noend of larks! And now everything's going to be perfectly horrid!'
The room they were shut up in WAS a room, and not a dungeon, as theelder ones had feared. That, as Anthea said, was one comfort. Therewere paintings on the wall that at any other time would have been mostinteresting. And a sort of low couch, and chairs. When they were aloneJane breathed a sigh of relief. 'Now we can get home all right,' shesaid.
'And leave the Psammead?' said Anthea reproachfully.
'Wait a sec. I've got an idea,' said Cyril. He pondered for a fewmoments. Then he began hammering on the heavy cedar door. It opened, anda guard put in his head.
'Stop that row,' he said sternly, 'or--'
'Look here,' Cyril interrupted, 'it's very dull for you isn't it? Justdoing nothing but guard us. Wouldn't you like to see some magic? We'renot too proud to do it for you. Wouldn't you like to see it?'
'I don't mind if I do,' said the guard.
'Well then, you get us that monkey of ours that was taken away, andwe'll show you.'
'How do I know you're not making game of me?' asked the soldier.'Shouldn't wonder if you only wanted to get the creature so as to set iton me. I daresay its teeth and claws are poisonous.' 'Well, look here,'said Robert. 'You see we've got nothing with us? You just shut the door,and open it again in five minutes, and we'll have got a magic--oh, Idon't know--a magic flower in a pot for you.'
'If you can do that you can do anything,' said the soldier, and he wentout and barred the door.
Then, of course, they held up the Amulet. They found the East by holdingit up, and turning slowly till the Amulet began to grow big, walked homethrough it, and came back with a geranium in full scarlet flower fromthe staircase window of the Fitzroy Street house.
'Well!' said the soldier when he came in. 'I really am--!'
'We can do much more wonderful things than that--oh, ever so much,' saidAnthea persuasively, 'if we only have our monkey. And here's twopencefor yourself.'
The soldier looked at the twopence.
'What's this?' he said.
Robert explained how much simpler it was to pay money for things thanto exchange them as the people were doing in the market. Later on thesoldier gave the coins to his captain, who, later still, showed them toPharaoh, who of course kept them and was much struck with the idea.That was really how coins first came to be used in Egypt. You will notbelieve this, I daresay, but really, if you believe the rest of thestory, I don't see why you shouldn't believe this as well.
'I say,' said Anthea, struck by a sudden thought, 'I suppose it'll beall right about those workmen? The King won't go back on what he saidabout them just because he's angry with us?'
'Oh, no,' said the soldier, 'you see, he's rather afraid of magic. He'llkeep to his word right enough.'
'Then THAT'S all right,' said Robert; and Anthea said softly andcoaxingly--
'Ah, DO get us the monkey, and then you'll see some lovely magic.Do--there's a nice, kind soldier.'
'I don't know where they've put your precious monkey, but if I can getanother chap to take on my duty here I'll see what I can do,' he saidgrudgingly, and went out.
'Do you mean,' said Robert, 'that we're going off without even TRYINGfor the other half of the Amulet?'
'I really think we'd better,' said Anthea tremulously. 'Of course theother half of the Amulet's here somewhere or our half wouldn't havebrought us here. I do wish we could find it. It is a pity we don'tknow any REAL magic. Then we could find out. I do wonder where itis--exactly.'
If they had only known it, something very like the other half of theAmulet was very near them. It hung round the neck of someone, andthat someone was watching them through a chink, high up in the wall,specially devised for watching people who were imprisoned. But they didnot know.
There was nearly an hour of anxious waiting. They tried to take aninterest in the picture on the wall, a picture of harpers playingvery odd harps and women dancing at a feast. They examined the paintedplaster floor, and the chairs were of white painted wood with colouredstripes at intervals.
But the time went slowly, and everyone had time to think of how Pharaohhad said, 'Don't torture them--YET.'
'If the worst comes to the worst,' said Cyril, 'we must just bunk, andleave the Psammead. I believe it can take care of itself well enough.They won't kill it or hurt it when they find it can speak and givewishes. They'll build it a temple, I shouldn't wonder.'
'I couldn't bear to go without it,' said Anthea, 'and Pharaoh said"After supper", that won't be just yet. And the soldier WAS curious. I'msure we're all right for the present.'
All the same, the sounds of the door being unbarred seemed one of theprettiest sounds possible.
'Suppose he hasn't got the Psammead?' whispered Jane.
But that doubt was set at rest by the Psammead itself; for almost beforethe door was open it sprang through the chink of it into Anthea's arms,shivering and hunching up its fur.
'Here's its fancy overcoat,' said the soldier, holding out the bag, intowhich the Psammead immediately crept.
'Now,' said Cyril, 'what would you like us to do? Anything you'd like usto get for you?'
'Any little trick you like,' said the soldier. 'If you can get a strangeflower blooming in an earthenware vase you can get anything, I suppose,'he said. 'I just wish I'd got two men's loads of jewels from the King'streasury. That's what I've always wished for.'
At the word 'WISH' the children knew that the Psammead would attend toTHAT bit of magic. It did, and the floor was littered with a spreadingheap of gold and precious stones.
'Any other little trick?' asked Cyril loftily. 'Shall we becomeinvisible? Vanish?'
'Yes, if you like,' said the soldier; 'but not through the door, youdon't.'
He closed it carefully and set his broad Egyptian back against it.
'No! no!' cried a voice high up among the tops of the tall woodenpillars that stood against the wall. There was a sound of someone movingabove.
The soldier was as much surprised as anybody.
'That's magic, if you like,' he said.
And then Jane held up the Amulet, uttering the word of Power. At thesound of it and at the sight of the Amulet growing into the great archthe soldier fell flat on his face among the jewels with a cry of awe andterror.
The children went through the arch with a quickness born of longpractice. But Jane stayed in the middle of the arch and loo
ked back.
The others, standing on the dining-room carpet in Fitzroy Street, turnedand saw her still in the arch. 'Someone's holding her,' cried Cyril. 'Wemust go back.'
But they pulled at Jane's hands just to see if she would come, and, ofcourse, she did come.
Then, as usual, the arch was little again and there they all were.
'Oh, I do wish you hadn't!' Jane said crossly. 'It WAS so interesting.The priest had come in and he was kicking the soldier, and tellinghim he'd done it now, and they must take the jewels and flee for theirlives.'
'And did they?'
'I don't know. You interfered,' said Jane ungratefully. 'I SHOULD haveliked to see the last of it.'
As a matter of fact, none of them had seen the last of it--if by 'it'Jane meant the adventure of the Priest and the Soldier.