that guarded the shipping of a
great city from the wilderness of winter winds and seas. The quay was of
marble, white and sparkling with a veining bright as gold. The city
was of marble, red and white. The greater buildings that seemed to be
temples and palaces were roofed with what looked like gold and silver,
but most of the roofs were of copper that glowed golden-red on the
houses on the hills among which the city stood, and shaded into
marvellous tints of green and blue and purple where they had been
touched by the salt sea spray and the fumes of the dyeing and smelting
works of the lower town.

Broad and magnificent flights of marble stairs led up from the quay to a
sort of terrace that seemed to run along for miles, and beyond rose the
town built on a hill.

The learned gentleman drew a long breath. 'Wonderful!' he said,
'wonderful!'

'I say, Mr--what's your name,' said Robert. 'He means,' said Anthea,
with gentle politeness, 'that we never can remember your name. I know
it's Mr De Something.'

'When I was your age I was called Jimmy,' he said timidly. 'Would you
mind? I should feel more at home in a dream like this if I--Anything
that made me seem more like one of you.'

'Thank you--Jimmy,' said Anthea with an effort. It seemed such a cheek
to be saying Jimmy to a grown-up man. 'Jimmy, DEAR,' she added, with no
effort at all. Jimmy smiled and looked pleased.

But now the ship was made fast, and the Captain had time to notice other
things. He came towards them, and he was dressed in the best of all
possible dresses for the seafaring life.

'What are you doing here?' he asked rather fiercely. 'Do you come to
bless or to curse?'

'To bless, of course,' said Cyril. 'I'm sorry if it annoys you, but
we're here by magic. We come from the land of the sun-rising,' he went
on explanatorily.

'I see,' said the Captain; no one had expected that he would. 'I didn't
notice at first, but of course I hope you're a good omen. It's needed.
And this,' he pointed to the learned gentleman, 'your slave, I presume?'

'Not at all,' said Anthea; 'he's a very great man. A sage, don't they
call it? And we want to see all your beautiful city, and your temples
and things, and then we shall go back, and he will tell his friend, and
his friend will write a book about it.'

'What,' asked the Captain, fingering a rope, 'is a book?'

'A record--something written, or,' she added hastily, remembering the
Babylonian writing, 'or engr