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on the firm ground, while the carpet drew itself in till it was its proper size, and no longer fitted exactly into the inside of the tower, but left quite a big space all round it.
Then across the carpet they looked at each other, and then every chin was tilted up and every eye sought vainly to see where poor Robert had got to. Of course, they couldn’t see him.
‘I wish we hadn’t come,’ said Jane.
‘You always do,’ said Cyril, briefly. ‘Look here, we can’t leave Robert up there. I wish the carpet would fetch him down.’
The carpet seemed to awake from a dream and pull itself together. It stiffened itself briskly and floated up between the four walls of the tower. The children below craned their heads back, and nearly broke their necks in doing it. The carpet rose and rose. It hung poised darkly above them for an anxious moment or two; then it dropped down again, threw itself on the uneven floor of the tower, and as it did so it tumbled Robert out on the uneven floor of the tower.
‘Oh, glory!’ said Robert, ‘that was a squeak. You don’t know how I felt. I say, I’ve had about enough for a bit. Let’s wish ourselves at home again and have a go at that jam tart and mutton. We can go out again afterwards.’
‘Righto!’ said every one, for the adventure had shaken the nerves of all. So they all got on to the carpet again, and said—
‘I wish we were at home.’
And lo and behold, they were no more at home than before. The carpet never moved. The Phoenix had taken the opportunity to go to sleep. Anthea woke it up gently.
‘Look here,’ she said.
‘I’m looking,’ said the Phoenix.
‘We WISHED to be at home, and we’re still here,’ complained Jane.
‘No,’ said the Phoenix, looking about it at the high dark walls of the tower. ‘No; I quite see that.’
‘But we wished to be at home,’ said Cyril.
‘No doubt,’ said the bird, politely.
‘And the carpet hasn’t moved an inch,’ said Robert.
‘No,’ said the Phoenix, ‘I see it hasn’t.’
‘But I thought it was a wishing carpet?’
‘So it is,’ said the Phoenix.
‘Then why—?’ asked the children, altogether.
‘I did tell you, you know,’ said the Phoenix, ‘only you are so fond of listening to the music of your own voices. It is, indeed, the most lovely music to each of us, and therefore—’
‘You did tell us WHAT?’ interrupted an Exasperated.
‘Why, that the carpet only gives you three wishes a day and YOU’VE HAD THEM.’
There was a heartfelt silence.
‘Then how are we going to get home?’ said Cyril, at last.
‘I haven’t any idea,’ replied the Phoenix, kindly. ‘Can I fly out and get you any little thing?’
‘How could you carry the money to pay for it?’
‘It isn’t necessary. Birds always take what they want. It is not regarded as stealing, except in the case of magpies.’
The children were glad to find they had been right in supposing this to be the case, on the day when they had wings, and had enjoyed somebody else’s ripe plums.
‘Yes; let the Phoenix get us something to eat, anyway,’ Robert urged—’ (‘If it will be so kind you mean,’ corrected Anthea, in a whisper); ‘if it will be so kind, and we can be thinking while it’s gone.’
So the Phoenix fluttered up through the grey space of the tower and vanished at the top, and it was not till it had quite gone that Jane said—
‘Suppose it never comes back.’
It was not a pleasant thought, and though Anthea at once said, ‘Of course it will come back; I’m certain it’s a bird of its word,’ a further gloom was cast by the idea. For, curiously enough, there was no door to the tower, and all the windows were far, far too high to be reached by the most adventurous climber. It was cold, too, and Anthea shivered.
‘Yes,’ said Cyril, ‘it’s like being at the bottom of a well.’
The children waited in a sad and hungry silence, and got little stiff necks with holding their little heads back to look up the inside of the tall grey tower, to see if the Phoenix were coming.
At last it came. It looked very big as it fluttered down between the walls, and as it neared them the children saw that its bigness was caused by a basket of boiled chestnuts which it carried in one claw. In the other it held a piece of bread. And in its beak was a very large pear. The pear was juicy, and as good as a very small drink. When the meal was over every one felt better, and the question of how to get home was discussed without any disagreeableness. But no one could think of any way out of the difficulty, or even out of the tower; for the Phoenix, though its beak and claws had fortunately been strong enough to carry food for them, was plainly not equal to flying through the air with four well-nourished children.
‘We must stay here, I suppose,’ said Robert at last, ‘and shout out every now and then, and some one will hear us and bring ropes and ladders, and rescue us like out of mines; and they’ll get up a subscription to send us home, like castaways.’
‘Yes; but we shan’t be home before mother is, and then father’ll take away the carpet and say it’s dangerous or something,’ said Cyril.
‘I DO wish we hadn’t come,’ said Jane.
And every one else said ‘Shut up,’ except Anthea, who suddenly awoke the Phoenix and said—
‘Look here, I believe YOU can help us. Oh, I do wish you would!’
‘I will help you as far as lies in my power,’ said the Phoenix, at once. ‘What is it you want now?’
‘Why, we want to get home,’ said every one.
‘Oh,’ said the Phoenix. ‘Ah, hum! Yes. Home, you said? Meaning?’
‘Where we live—where we slept last night—where the altar is that your egg was hatched on.’
‘Oh, there!’ said the Phoenix. ‘Well, I’ll do my best.’ It fluttered on to the carpet and walked up and down for a few minutes in deep thought. Then it drew itself up proudly.
‘I CAN help you,’ it said. ‘I am almost sure I can help you. Unless I am grossly deceived I can help you. You won’t mind my leaving you for an hour or two?’ and without waiting for a reply it soared up through the dimness of the tower into the brightness above.
‘Now,’ said Cyril, firmly, ‘it said an hour or two. But I’ve read about captives and people shut up in dungeons and catacombs and things awaiting release, and I know each moment is an eternity. Those people always do something to pass the desperate moments. It’s no use our trying to tame spiders, because we shan’t have time.’
‘I HOPE not,’ said Jane, doubtfully.
‘But we ought to scratch our names on the stones or something.’
‘I say, talking of stones,’ said Robert, ‘you see that heap of stones against the wall over in that corner. Well, I’m certain there’s a hole in the wall there—and I believe it’s a door. Yes, look here—the stones are round like an arch in the wall; and here’s the hole—it’s all black inside.’
He had walked over to the heap as he spoke and climbed up to it—dislodged the top stone of the heap and uncovered a little dark space.
Next moment every one was helping to pull down the heap of stones, and very soon every one threw off its jacket, for it was warm work.
‘It IS a door,’ said Cyril, wiping his face, ‘and not a bad thing either, if—’
He was going to add ‘if anything happens