The Story of the Amulet by E. Nesbit (autobiographies to read .TXT) 📕

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 sunrising,’ 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