And smiling and sighing, she opened her book and went into it, and the children went slowly back to the Palace. The fight was over, the Book People had gone back into their books, and it was almost as though they had never left them—not quite, for the children had seen the faces of the heroes, and the books where these lived could never again now be the same to them. All books, indeed, would now have an interest far above any they had ever held before—for any of these people might be found in any book. You never know. [Illustration: _Book Heroines._] The Princess Freia met them in the Palace courtyard, and clasped their hands and called them the preservers of the country, which was extremely pleasant. She also told them that a slight skirmish had been fought on the Mussel-beds south of the city, and the foe had retreated. “But Reuben tells me,” she added—“that boy is really worth his weight in pearls—that the main body are to attack at midnight. We must sleep now, to be ready for the call of duty when it comes. Sure you understand your duties? And the power of your buttons and your antidotes? I might not have time to remind you later. You can sleep in the armory—you must be awfully tired. You’ll be asleep before you can say Jack Sprat.” So they lay down on the seaweed, heaped along one end of the Oysters’ armory, and were instantly asleep. It may have been their natures, or it may have been the influence of the magic coats. But whatever the cause, it is certain that they lay down without fear, slept without dreams, and awoke without alarm when an Oyster corporal touched their arms and whispered, “Now!” They were wide awake on the instant and started up, picking their oyster shields from the ground beside them. “I feel just like a Roman soldier,” Cathay said. “Don’t you?” And the others owned that so far as they knew the feelings of a Roman soldier, those feelings were their own. The shadows of the guardroom were changed and shifted and flung here and there by the torches carried by the busy Oysters. Phosphorescent fish these torches were, and gave out a moony light like that of the pillars in the Cave of Learning. Outside the Lobster-guarded arch the water showed darkly clear. Large phosphorescent fish were twined round pillars of stone, rather like the fish you see on the lampposts on the Thames Embankment, only in this case the fish were the lamps. So strong was the illumination that you could see as clearly as you can on a moonlit night on the downs, where there are no trees to steal the light from the landscape and bury it in their thick branches. All was hurry and bustle. The Salmoners had sent a detachment to harass the flank of the enemy, and the Sea Urchins, under the command of Reuben, were ready in their seaweed disguises.