The Story of the Amulet, E. Nesbit [free ebook reader for iphone txt] 📗

they could have imagined possible, pulled out the padlock, the Nécessaire, 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-marā?”

“These unworthy sons of a conquered nation⁠ ⁠…” began Rekh-marā.

“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 midday 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-marā 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-marā 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,