Robert had a wild feeling that this glorious leader of the besieging party--being himself part of a wish--would be able to understand better than Martha, or the gipsies, or the policeman in Rochester, or the clergyman of yesterday, the true tale of the wishes and the Psammead. The only difficulty was that he knew he could never remember enough "quothas" and "beshrew me's," and things like that, to make his talk sound like the talk of a boy in a historical romance. However, he began boldly enough, with a sentence straight out of _Ralph de Courcy; or, The Boy Crusader_. He said-- "Grammercy for thy courtesy, fair sir knight. The fact is, it's like this--and I hope you're not in a hurry, because the story's rather a breather. Father and mother are away, and when we went down playing in the sand-pits we found a Psammead." "I cry thee mercy! A Sammyadd?" said the knight. "Yes, a sort of--of fairy, or enchanter--yes, that's it, an enchanter; and he said we could have a wish every day, and we wished first to be beautiful." "Thy wish was scarce granted," muttered one of the men-at-arms, looking at Robert, who went on as if he had not heard, though he thought the remark very rude indeed. "And then we wished for money--treasure, you know; but we couldn't spend it. And yesterday we wished for wings, and we got them, and we had a ripping time to begin with"-- "Thy speech is strange and uncouth," said Sir Wulfric de Talbot. "Repeat thy words--what hadst thou?" "A ripping--I mean a jolly--no--we were contented with our lot--that's what I mean; only, after we got into an awful fix." "What is a fix? A fray, mayhap?" "No--not a fray. A--a--a tight place." "A dungeon? Alas for thy youthful fettered limbs!" said the knight, with polite sympathy. "It wasn't a dungeon. We just--just encountered undeserved misfortunes," Robert explained, "and to-day we are punished by not being allowed to go out. That's where I live,"--he pointed to the castle. "The others are in there, and they're not allowed to go out. It's all the Psammead's--I mean the enchanter's fault. I wish we'd never seen him." "He is an enchanter of might?" "Oh yes--of might and main. Rather!" "And thou deemest that it is the spells of the enchanter whom thou hast angered that have lent strength to the besieging party," said the gallant leader; "but know thou that Wulfric de Talbot needs no enchanter's aid to lead his followers to victory." "No, I'm sure you don't," said Robert, with hasty courtesy; "of course not--you wouldn't, you know. But, all the same, it's partly his fault, but we're most to blame. You couldn't have done anything if it hadn't been for us." "How now, bold boy?" asked Sir Wulfric haughtily. "Thy speech is dark, and eke scarce courteous. Unravel me this riddle!"