a little about your city. It isn't a question. We want to
know if it's magic. That isn't a question either.'

'I was about to tell you,' said Mr. Noah, 'and I will not answer
questions. Of course it is magic. Everything in the world is magic,
until you understand it.

'And as to the city. I will just tell you a little of our history. Many
thousand years ago all the cities of our country were built by a great
and powerful giant, who brought the materials from far and wide. The
place was peopled partly by persons of his choice, and partly by a sort
of self-acting magic rather difficult to explain. As soon as the cities
were built and the inhabitants placed here the life of the city began,
and it was, to those who lived it, as though it had always been. The
artisans toiled, the musicians played, and the poets sang. The
astrologers, finding themselves in a tall tower evidently designed for
such a purpose, began to observe the stars and to prophesy.'

'I know that part,' said Philip.

'Very well,' said the judge. 'Then you know quite enough. Now I want to
ask a little favour of you both. Would you mind escaping?'

'If we only could,' Lucy sighed.

'The strain on my nerves is too much,' said Mr. Noah feelingly. 'Escape,
my dear children, to please me, a very old man in indifferent health and
poor spirits.'

'But how----'

'Oh, you just walk out. You, my boy, can disguise yourself in your
dressing-gown which I see has been placed on yonder chair, and I will
leave my cloak for you, little girl.'

They both said 'Thank you,' and Lucy added: 'But _how_?'

'Through the door,' said the judge. 'There is a rule about putting
prisoners on their honour not to escape, but there have not been any
prisoners for so long that I don't suppose they put you on honour. No?
You can just walk out of the door. There are many charitable persons in
the city who will help to conceal you. The front-door key turns easily,
and I myself will oil it as I go out. Good-bye--thank you so much for
falling in with my little idea. Accept an old man's blessing. Only
don't tell the gaoler. He would never forgive me.'

He got off his mat, rolled it up and went.

'Well!' said Lucy.

'Well!' said Philip.

'I suppose we go?' he said. But Lucy said, 'What about the gaoler? Won't
he catch it if we bolt?'

Philip felt this might be true. It was annoying, and as bad as being put
on one's honour.

'Bother!' was what he said.

And then the gaoler ca