“If we are to guard the sacred treasure within”—he pointed to the hedged-in space—“speak with thy loud voice, and we shall obey.”
He pulled the trigger, and the cap went off. The noise was loud, for it was a two-shilling pistol, and the caps were excellent.
Every man, woman, and child in the village fell on its face on the sand.
The headman who had accepted the test rose first.
“The voice has spoken,” he said. “Lead them into the ante-room of the sacred thing.”
So now the four children were led in through the opening of the hedge and round the lane till they came to an opening in the inner hedge, and they went through an opening in that, and so passed into another lane.
The thing was built something like this, and all the hedges were of brushwood and thorns:
“It’s like the maze at Hampton Court,” whispered Anthea.
The lanes were all open to the sky, but the little hut in the middle of the maze was round-roofed, and a curtain of skins hung over the doorway.