“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. “That’s magic, if you like,” he said. And then Jane held up the Amulet, uttering the word of Power. At the sound of it and at the sight of the Amulet growing into the great arch the soldier fell flat on his face among the jewels with a cry of awe and terror. The children went through the arch with a quickness born of long practice. But Jane stayed in the middle of the arch and looked back. The others, standing on the dining-room carpet in Fitzroy Street, turned and saw her still in the arch. “Someone’s holding her,” cried Cyril. “We must go back.” But they pulled at Jane’s hands just to see if she would come, and, of course, she did come. Then, as usual, the arch was little again and there they all were. “Oh, I do wish you hadn’t!” Jane said crossly. “It _was_ so interesting. The priest had come in and he was kicking the soldier, and telling him he’d done it now, and they must take the jewels and flee for their lives.” “And did they?” “I don’t know. You interfered,” said Jane ungratefully. “I _should_ have liked to see the last of it.” As a matter of fact, none of them had seen the last of it—if by “it” Jane meant the adventure of the Priest and the Soldier. CHAPTER XII. THE SORRY-PRESENT AND THE EXPELLED LITTLE BOY “Look here, said Cyril, sitting on the dining-table and swinging his legs; “I really have got it.” “Got what?” was the not unnatural rejoinder of the others. Cyril was making a boat with a penknife and a piece of wood, and the girls were making warm frocks for their dolls, for the weather was growing chilly.