Every one of the party hesitated. A vision of the Old Tobacco Shop entered each mind. It had never seemed so cozy, so quiet, so secure as at that moment. How or when they would ever get there, in the natural course of events, no one knew. If they did not seize this opportunity, they might be lost forever. It was a chance such as they could scarcely have hoped for. "Could we take our belongings with us?" said the Sly Old Fox. "All that can be piled on the rug," said Shiraz. "Then I will buy it," said the Sly Old Codger. "I do not consider twenty pennies too much for such a rug. The rug is mine." "It's nothing of the sort," said Aunt Amanda, waking from deep thought. "Nobody's going to buy the rug. I'm captain of this expedition, and my orders is, to wait and see what's going to happen next. I'm sorry, sir, but the rug ain't exactly what we want. You must show us something else." The Rug-Merchant appeared greatly mortified. "I do not know how I could have made such a mistake," he said. "I should have known that these little trifles could not interest you. I trust you will believe that I meant no offense. I fear there is nothing in my poor collection which merits your notice. Permit me to wish you a safe journey. Do you intend to remain long in the City of Towers?" "That won't do," said Toby. "You must show us something else." The Rug-Merchant looked intently at Aunt Amanda. "You command it?" said he. "I do," said she. "To hear is to obey," said Shiraz. "I tremble to think how contemptible are the baubles I shall now offer you, but I trust you will not be angry with your servant." He turned to the young man, and spoke to him in an unknown tongue. "Be not offended, excellencies," he went on, "by your poor servant's ignorance in the art of pleasing." The young man disappeared behind one of the hanging rugs, and in a moment returned with certain small objects, which he stood upon the table in a row. They were eight hour-glasses, of a very ordinary kind, much like those already seen in the booth outside. The sand in each one was wholly in the upper glass, and was just beginning to trickle down into the lower. The strangers were obviously disappointed. "I fear your displeasure," said Shiraz, "but apart from my trifling rugs, these are all I have to offer." "And what," said the Sly Old Fox, "what may be the price of these interesting objects?" "The price," said Shiraz, fixing his beady eyes on Aunt Amanda, "the price is this and nothing less: your treasure on the mules outside; your share of the treasure on the mules." Everyone gasped. The treasure which they had gone through so many perils to secure, for these indifferent trinkets! A life of ease and plenty for an hour-glass! "Ahem!" said the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg. "Excuse me for saying it, but the--er--price appears to be a little bit high."