LITMIR.BIZ

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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 table-cloth 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

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