The Story of the Amulet by E. Nesbit (important books to read txt) 📕

street, but there were handcarts and low trolleys running on thick log-wheels, and porters carrying packets on their heads, and a good many of the people were riding on what looked like elephants, only the great beasts were hairy, and they had not that mild expression we are accustomed to meet on the faces of the elephants at the Zoo.

“Mammoths!” murmured the learned gentleman, and stumbled over a loose stone.

The people in the streets kept crowding round them as they went along, but the Captain always dispersed the crowd before it grew uncomfortably thick by saying⁠—

“Children of the Sun God and their High Priest⁠—come to bless the City.”

And then the people would draw back with a low murmur that sounded like a suppressed cheer.

Many of the buildings were covered with gold, but the gold on the bigger buildings was of a different colour, and they had sorts of steeples of burnished silver rising above them.

“Are all these houses real gold?” asked Jane.

“The temples are covered with gold, of course,” answered the Captain, “but the houses are only oricalchum. It’s not quite so expensive.”

The learned gentleman, now very pale, stumbled along in a dazed way, repeating:

“Oricalchum⁠—oricalchum.”

“Don’t be frightened,” said Anthea; “we can get home in a minute, just by holding up the charm. Would you rather go back now? We could easily come some other day without you.”

“Oh, no, no,” he pleaded fervently; “let the dream go on. Please, please do.”

“The High Ji-jimmy is perhaps weary with his magic journey,” said the Captain, noticing the blundering walk of the learned gentleman; “and we are yet very far from the Great Temple, where today the Kings make sacrifice.”

He stopped at the gate of a great enclosure. It seemed to be a sort of park, for trees showed high above its brazen wall.

The party waited, and almost at once the Captain came back with one of the hairy elephants and begged them to mount.

This they did.

It was a glorious ride. The elephant at the Zoo⁠—to ride on him is also glorious, but he goes such a very little way, and then he goes back again, which is always dull. But this great hairy beast went on and on and on along streets and through squares and gardens. It was a glorious city; almost everything was built of marble, red, or white, or black. Every now and then the party crossed a bridge.

It was not till they had climbed to the hill which is the centre of the town that they saw that the whole city was divided into twenty circles, alternately land and water, and over each of the water circles were the bridges by which they had come.

And now they were in a great square. A vast building filled up one side of it; it was overlaid with gold, and had a dome of silver. The rest of the buildings round the square were of oricalchum. And it looked more splendid than you can possibly imagine, standing up bold and shining in the sunlight.

“You would like a bath,” said the Captain, as the hairy elephant went clumsily down on his knees. “It’s customary, you know, before entering the Presence. We have baths for men, women, horses, and cattle. The High Class Baths are here. Our Father Poseidon gave us a spring of hot water and one of cold.”

The children had never before bathed in baths of gold.

“It feels very splendid,” said Cyril, splashing.

“At least, of course, it’s not gold; it’s or⁠—what’s its name,” said Robert. “Hand over that towel.”

The bathing hall had several great pools sunk below the level of the floor; one went down to them by steps.

“Jimmy,” said Anthea timidly, when, very clean and boiled-looking, they all met in the flowery courtyard of the Public, “don’t you think all this seems much more like now than Babylon or Egypt⁠—? Oh, I forgot, you’ve never been there.”

“I know a little of those nations, however,” said he, “and I quite agree with you. A most discerning remark⁠—my dear,” he added awkwardly; “this city certainly seems to indicate a far higher level of civilization than the Egyptian or Babylonish, and⁠—”

“Follow me,” said the Captain. “Now, boys, get out of the way.” He pushed through a little crowd of boys who were playing with dried chestnuts fastened to a string.

“Ginger!” remarked Robert, “they’re playing conkers, just like the kids in Kentish Town Road!”

They could see now that three walls surrounded the island on which they were. The outermost wall was of brass, the Captain told them; the next, which looked like silver, was covered with tin; and the innermost one was of oricalchum.

And right in the middle was a wall of gold, with golden towers and gates.

“Behold the Temples of Poseidon,” said the Captain. “It is not lawful for me to enter. I will await your return here.”

He told them what they ought to say, and the five people from Fitzroy Street took hands and went forward. The golden gates slowly opened.

“We are the children of the Sun,” said Cyril, as he had been told, “and our High Priest, at least that’s what the Captain calls him. We have a different name for him at home.”

“What is his name?” asked a white-robed man who stood in the doorway with his arms extended.

“Ji-jimmy,” replied Cyril, and he hesitated as Anthea had done. It really did seem to be taking a great liberty with so learned a gentleman. “And we have come to speak with your Kings in the Temple of Poseidon⁠—does that word sound right?” he whispered anxiously.

“Quite,” said the learned gentleman. “It’s very odd I can understand what you say to them, but not what they say to you.”

“The Queen of Babylon found that too,” said Cyril; “it’s part of the magic.”

“Oh, what a dream!” said the learned gentleman.

The white-robed priest had been joined by others, and all were bowing low.

“Enter,” he said, “enter, Children of the Sun, with your High Ji-jimmy.”

In an inner courtyard stood the Temple⁠—all of silver, with gold pinnacles and