But that doubt was set at rest by the Psammead itself; for almost before the 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, into which the Psammead immediately crept.
“Now,” said Cyril, “what would you like us to do? Anything you’d like us to get for you?”
“Any little trick you like,” said the soldier. “If you can get a strange flower 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’s treasury. That’s what I’ve always wished for.”
At the word “wish” the children knew that the Psammead would attend to that bit of magic. It did, and the floor was littered with a spreading heap of gold and precious stones.
“Any other little trick?” asked Cyril loftily. “Shall we become invisible? Vanish?”
“Yes, if you like,” said the soldier; “but not through the door, you don’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 wooden pillars that stood against the wall. There was a sound of someone moving above.
The soldier was as much surprised as anybody.