Robert answered this appeal by unexpectedly bursting into “The British Grenadiers”, and to its quick-step they approached the gates of Babylon.
“Some talk of Alexander,
And some of Hercules,
Of Hector and Lysander,
And such great names as these.
But of all the gallant heroes...”
This brought them to the threshold of the gate, and two men in bright armour suddenly barred their way with crossed spears.
“Who goes there?” they said.
(I think I must have explained to you before how it was that the children were always able to understand the language of any place they might happen to be in, and to be themselves understood. If not, I have no time to explain it now.)
“We come from very far,” said Cyril mechanically. “From the Empire where the sun never sets, and we want to see your King.”
“If it’s quite convenient,” amended Anthea.
“The King (may he live for ever!),” said the gatekeeper, “is gone to fetch home his fourteenth wife. Where on earth have you come from not to know that?”
“The Queen then,” said Anthea hurriedly, and not taking any notice of the question as to where they had come from.
“The Queen,” said the gatekeeper, “(may she live for ever!) gives audience today three hours after sunrising.”