it, the copper-coloured ones will
not harm you now.'

It is impossible not to take the word of a Phoenix when it tells you
to. So the children at once got hold of the corners of the carpet,
and, pulling it from under the cook, towed it slowly in through the
shallowing water, and at last spread it on the sand. The cook, who had
followed, instantly sat down on it, and at once the copper-coloured
natives, now strangely humble, formed a ring round the carpet, and fell
on their faces on the rainbow-and-gold sand. The tallest savage spoke
in this position, which must have been very awkward for him; and Jane
noticed that it took him quite a long time to get the sand out of his
mouth afterwards.

'He says,' the Phoenix remarked after some time, 'that they wish to
engage your cook permanently.'

'Without a character?' asked Anthea, who had heard her mother speak of
such things.

'They do not wish to engage her as cook, but as queen; and queens need
not have characters.'

There was a breathless pause.

'WELL,' said Cyril, 'of all the choices! But there's no accounting for
tastes.'

Every one laughed at the idea of the cook's being engaged as queen; they
could not help it.

'I do not advise laughter,' warned the Phoenix, ruffling out his golden
feathers, which were extremely wet. 'And it's not their own choice. It
seems that there is an ancient prophecy of this copper-coloured tribe
that a great queen should some day arise out of the sea with a white
crown on her head, and--and--well, you see! There's the crown!'

It pointed its claw at cook's cap; and a very dirty cap it was, because
it was the end of the week.

'That's the white crown,' it said; 'at least, it's nearly white--very
white indeed compared to the colour THEY are--and anyway, it's quite
white enough.'

Cyril addressed the cook. 'Look here!' said he, 'these brown people want
you to be their queen. They're only savages, and they don't know any
better. Now would you really like to stay? or, if you'll promise not to
be so jolly aggravating at home, and not to tell any one a word about
to-day, we'll take you back to Camden Town.'

'No, you don't,' said the cook, in firm, undoubting tones. 'I've always
wanted to be the Queen, God bless her! and I always thought what a good
one I should make; and now I'm going to. IF it's only in a dream, it's
well worth while. And I don't go back to that nasty underground kitchen,
and me blamed for everything; that I don't