nxiety.

But Robert couldn't turn round all in a minute into a jumping position.
He wriggled and twisted and got on to the broad ledge, and by the time
he was ready to jump the walls of the tower had risen up thirty feet
above the others, who were still sinking with the carpet, and Robert
found himself in the embrasure of a window; alone, for even the owls
were not at home that day. The wall was smoothish; there was no climbing
up, and as for climbing down--Robert hid his face in his hands, and
squirmed back and back from the giddy verge, until the back part of him
was wedged quite tight in the narrowest part of the window slit.

He was safe now, of course, but the outside part of his window was like
a frame to a picture of part of the other side of the tower. It was very
pretty, with moss growing between the stones and little shiny gems; but
between him and it there was the width of the tower, and nothing in it
but empty air. The situation was terrible. Robert saw in a flash that
the carpet was likely to bring them into just the same sort of tight
places that they used to get into with the wishes the Psammead granted
them.

And the others--imagine their feelings as the carpet sank slowly and
steadily to the very bottom of the tower, leaving Robert clinging to the
wall. Robert did not even try to imagine their feelings--he had quite
enough to do with his own; but you can.

As soon as the carpet came to a stop on the ground at the bottom of the
inside of the tower it suddenly lost that raft-like stiffness which had
been such a comfort during the journey from Camden Town to the topless
tower, and spread itself limply over the loose stones and little earthy
mounds at the bottom of the tower, just exactly like any ordinary
carpet. Also it shrank suddenly, so that it seemed to draw away from
under their feet, and they stepped quickly off the edges and stood on
the firm ground, while the carpet drew itself in till it was its proper
size, and no longer fitted exactly into the inside of the tower, but
left quite a big space all round it.

Then across the carpet they looked at each other, and then every chin
was tilted up and every eye sought vainly to see where poor Robert had
got to. Of course, they couldn't see him.

'I wish we hadn't come,' said Jane.

'You always do,' said Cyril, briefly. 'Look here, we can't leave Robert
up there. I wish the carpet would fetch him down.'

The carpet seemed to awake from a dream an