“It’s jolly decent of the skipper to have brought us to such a ripping place,” said Cyril. “Do you know,” said Anthea, “this feels more real than anything else we’ve seen? It’s like a holiday in the country at home.” The children were left alone in a large hall. The floor was mosaic, done with wonderful pictures of ships and sea-beasts and fishes. Through an open doorway they could see a pleasant courtyard with flowers. “I should like to spend a week here,” said Jane, “and donkey ride every day.” Everyone was feeling very jolly. Even the Egyptian looked pleasanter than usual. And then, quite suddenly, the skipper came back with a joyous smile. With him came the master of the house. He looked steadily at the children and nodded twice. “Yes,” he said, “my steward will pay you the price. But I shall not pay at that high rate for the Egyptian dog.” The two passed on. “This,” said the Egyptian, “is a pretty kettle of fish.” “What is?” asked all the children at once. “Our present position,” said Rekh-marā. “Our seafaring friend,” he added, “has sold us all for slaves!” A hasty council succeeded the shock of this announcement. The Priest was allowed to take part in it. His advice was “stay”, because they were in no danger, and the Amulet in its completeness must be somewhere near, or, of course, they could not have come to that place at all. And after some discussion they agreed to this. The children were treated more as guests than as slaves, but the Egyptian was sent to the kitchen and made to work. Pheles, the master of the house, went off that very evening, by the King’s orders, to start on another voyage. And when he was gone his wife found the children amusing company, and kept them talking and singing and dancing till quite late. “To distract my mind from my sorrows,” she said. “I do like being a slave,” remarked Jane cheerfully, as they curled up on the big, soft cushions that were to be their beds. It was black night when they were awakened, each by a hand passed softly over its face, and a low voice that whispered— “Be quiet, or all is lost.” So they were quiet. “It’s me, Rekh-marā, the Priest of Amen,” said the whisperer. “The man who brought us has gone to sea again, and he has taken my Amulet from me by force, and I know no magic to get it back. Is there magic for that in the Amulet you bear?” Everyone was instantly awake by now. “We can go after him,” said Cyril, leaping up; “but he might take _ours_ as well; or he might be angry with us for following him.” “I’ll see to _that_,” said the Egyptian in the dark. “Hide your Amulet well.” There in the deep blackness of that room in the Tyrian country house the Amulet was once more held up and the word spoken.