to me here--slowly, so that those dogs and slaves
can see the working of the great Queen's magic.'

'Oh, you ARE a tiresome woman,' said the Psammead in its bag, but it
puffed itself out.

Next moment there was a crash. The glass swing doors and all their
framework were smashed suddenly and completely. The crowd of angry
gentlemen sprang aside when they saw what had done this.

But the nastiest of them was not quick enough, and he was roughly pushed
out of the way by an enormous stone bull that was floating steadily
through the door. It came and stood beside the Queen in the middle of
the courtyard.

It was followed by more stone images, by great slabs of carved stone,
bricks, helmets, tools, weapons, fetters, wine-jars, bowls, bottles,
vases, jugs, saucers, seals, and the round long things, something like
rolling pins with marks on them like the print of little bird-feet,
necklaces, collars, rings, armlets, earrings--heaps and heaps and
heaps of things, far more than anyone had time to count, or even to see
distinctly.

All the angry gentlemen had abruptly sat down on the Museum steps except
the nice one. He stood with his hands in his pockets just as though
he was quite used to seeing great stone bulls and all sorts of small
Babylonish objects float out into the Museum yard.

But he sent a man to close the big iron gates.

A journalist, who was just leaving the museum, spoke to Robert as he
passed.

'Theosophy, I suppose?' he said. 'Is she Mrs Besant?'

'YES,' said Robert recklessly.

The journalist passed through the gates just before they were shut.

He rushed off to Fleet Street, and his paper got out a new edition
within half an hour.

MRS BESANT AND THEOSOPHY

IMPERTINENT MIRACLE AT THE BRITISH MUSEUM.

People saw it in fat, black letters on the boards carried by the sellers
of newspapers. Some few people who had nothing better to do went down
to the Museum on the tops of omnibuses. But by the time they got there
there was nothing to be seen. For the Babylonian Queen had suddenly seen
the closed gates, had felt the threat of them, and had said--

'I wish we were in your house.'

And, of course, instantly they were.

The Psammead was furious.

'Look here,' it said, 'they'll come after you, and they'll find ME.
There'll be a National Cage built for me at Westminster, and I shall
have to work at politics. Why wouldn't you leave the things in their
places?'

'What a temper you have, h