“The Babylonians were certainly more gentle than the Assyrians,” said the learned gentleman. “And they were not savages by any means. A very high level of culture,” he looked doubtfully at his audience and went on, “I mean that they made beautiful statues and jewellery, and built splendid palaces. And they were very learned—they had glorious libraries and high towers for the purpose of astrological and astronomical observation.” “Er?” said Robert. “I mean for—star-gazing and fortune-telling,” said the learned gentleman, “and there were temples and beautiful hanging gardens—” “I’ll go to Babylon if you like,” said Jane abruptly, and the others hastened to say “Done!” before she should have time to change her mind. “Ah,” said the learned gentleman, smiling rather sadly, “one can go so far in dreams, when one is young.” He sighed again, and then adding with a laboured briskness, “I hope you’ll have a—a—jolly game,” he went into his room and shut the door. “He said ‘jolly’ as if it was a foreign language,” said Cyril. “Come on, let’s get the Psammead and go now. I think Babylon seems a most frightfully jolly place to go to.” So they woke the Psammead and put it in its bass-bag with the waterproof sheet, in case of inclement weather in Babylon. It was very cross, but it said it would as soon go to Babylon as anywhere else. “The sand is good thereabouts,” it added. Then Jane held up the charm, and Cyril said— “We want to go to Babylon to look for the part of you that was lost. Will you please let us go there through you?” “Please put us down just outside,” said Jane hastily; “and then if we don’t like it we needn’t go inside.” “Don’t be all day,” said the Psammead. So Anthea hastily uttered the word of power, without which the charm could do nothing. “Ur—Hekau—Setcheh!” she said softly, and as she spoke the charm grew into an arch so tall that the top of it was close against the bedroom ceiling. Outside the arch was the bedroom painted chest-of-drawers and the Kidderminster carpet, and the washhand-stand with the riveted willow-pattern jug, and the faded curtains, and the dull light of indoors on a wet day. Through the arch showed the gleam of soft green leaves and white blossoms. They stepped forward quite happily. Even Jane felt that this did not look like lions, and her hand hardly trembled at all as she held the charm for the others to go through, and last, slipped through herself, and hung the charm, now grown small again, round her neck. The children found themselves under a white-blossomed, green-leafed fruit-tree, in what seemed to be an orchard of such trees, all white-flowered and green-foliaged. Among the long green grass under their feet grew crocuses and lilies, and strange blue flowers. In the branches overhead thrushes and blackbirds were singing, and the coo of a pigeon came softly to them in the green quietness of the orchard. “Oh, how perfectly lovely!” cried Anthea.