The children, bowing as well as they could in their embarrassment at finding themselves the centre of interest in a circle more grand, more golden and more highly coloured than they could have imagined possible, pulled out the padlock, the _Nécessaire_, and the tie-clip. “But it’s not tribute all the same,” Cyril muttered. “England doesn’t pay tribute!” Pharaoh examined all the things with great interest when the chief of the household had taken them up to him. “Deliver them to the Keeper of the Treasury,” he said to one near him. And to the children he said— “A small tribute, truly, but strange, and not without worth. And the magic, O Rekh-marā?” “These unworthy sons of a conquered nation...” began Rekh-marā. “Nothing of the kind!” Cyril whispered angrily. “... of a vile and conquered nation, can make fire to spring from dry wood—in the sight of all.” “I should jolly well like to see them do it,” said Pharaoh, just as the priest had done. So Cyril, without more ado, did it. “Do more magic,” said the King, with simple appreciation. “He cannot do any more magic,” said Anthea suddenly, and all eyes were turned on her, “because of the voice of the free people who are shouting for bread and onions and beer and a long mid-day rest. If the people had what they wanted, he could do more.” “A rude-spoken girl,” said Pharaoh. “But give the dogs what they want,” he said, without turning his head. “Let them have their rest and their extra rations. There are plenty of slaves to work.” A richly-dressed official hurried out. “You will be the idol of the people,” Rekh-marā whispered joyously; “the Temple of Amen will not contain their offerings.” Cyril struck another match, and all the court was overwhelmed with delight and wonder. And when Cyril took the candle from his pocket and lighted it with the match, and then held the burning candle up before the King the enthusiasm knew no bounds. “Oh, greatest of all, before whom sun and moon and stars bow down,” said Rekh-marā insinuatingly, “am I pardoned? Is my innocence made plain?” “As plain as it ever will be, I daresay,” said Pharaoh shortly. “Get along with you. You are pardoned. Go in peace.” The priest went with lightning swiftness. “And what,” said the King suddenly, “is it that moves in that sack? Show me, oh strangers.” There was nothing for it but to show the Psammead. “Seize it,” said Pharaoh carelessly. “A very curious monkey. It will be a nice little novelty for my wild beast collection.” And instantly, the entreaties of the children availing as little as the bites of the Psammead, though both bites and entreaties were fervent, it was carried away from before their eyes. “Oh, _do_ be careful!” cried Anthea. “At least keep it dry! Keep it in its sacred house!” She held up the embroidered bag. “It’s a magic creature,” cried Robert; “it’s simply priceless!” “You’ve no right to take it away,” cried Jane incautiously. “It’s a shame, a barefaced robbery, that’s what it is!”