ge of an Indian tree
offered a resting-place, and beside it was a little house where the
children could stay. The interior lacked none of the requisites of
living, not even the cooking utensils in the kitchen, and the family
portraits in the tablinum, delicately painted by an artist on small ivory
slabs. Everything was made to suit the size of children, but of the most
costly material and careful workmanship.

Behind the house was a little stable where four tiny horses with spotted
skins, the rarest and prettiest creatures imaginable--a gift from the
King of Media--were stamping the ground.

In another place was an enclosure containing gazelles, ostriches, young
giraffes, and other grass-eating animals. Bright-plumaged birds and
monkeys filled the tops of the trees, gay balls rose and fell on the jets
of the fountains, and child genii and images of the gods in bronze and
marble peered from the foliage. This whole enchanted world was comprised
within a narrow space, and, with its radiance of colour and wealth of
form, its perfume, songs, and warbling, exerted a bewildering influence
upon the excited imaginations of grown people as well as children.

Little Alexander, without even casting a glance at all this, drew
Charmian forward. He did not pause until he reached the shore of the
lotus pond; then, putting his fingers on his lips, he said: "There, now,
I'll show you. Look here!"

Rising cautiously upon tip-toe as he spoke, he pointed to the hollow in
the trunk of a tree. A pair of finches had built their nest in it, and
five young ones with big yellow beaks stretched their ugly little heads
hungrily upward.

"That's so pretty!" cried the prince. "And you must see the old ones come
to feed them." The beautiful boy's sweet face fairly beamed with delight,
and Charmian kissed him tenderly. Yet, even as she did so, she thought of
the young swallows hacked to death in his mother's galley, and a chill
ran through her veins.

Just at that moment voices were heard calling Alexander from a neglected
spot behind the dainty little house built for the children, and the boy
exclaimed peevishly:

"There, now, I showed you the little nest, so I forgot. Agatha fell
asleep and Smerdis went away, so we were alone. Then they sent me to
Horus, the gate-keeper, to get some of his spelt bread. He never says no
to anything, and it does taste so good. We're peasants, and have been
using the axe and the hoe, so we want something to eat.