he Captain; 'it's where the great
merchants have their pleasure-houses and gardens and farms.'

'Look, look!' Cyril cried suddenly; 'what a lovely little ship!'

A ship in full sail was passing swiftly through the fishing fleet. The
Captain's face changed. He frowned, and his eyes blazed with fury.

'Insolent young barbarian!' he cried. 'Do you call the ships of Tyre
LITTLE? None greater sail the seas. That ship has been on a three years'
voyage. She is known in all the great trading ports from here to the
Tin Islands. She comes back rich and glorious. Her very anchor is of
silver.'

'I'm sure we beg your pardon,' said Anthea hastily. 'In our country we
say "little" for a pet name. Your wife might call you her dear little
husband, you know.'

'I should like to catch her at it,' growled the Captain, but he stopped
scowling.

'It's a rich trade,' he went on. 'For cloth ONCE dipped, second-best
glass, and the rough images our young artists carve for practice, the
barbarian King in Tessos lets us work the silver mines. We get so much
silver there that we leave them our iron anchors and come back with
silver ones.'

'How splendid!' said Robert. 'Do go on. What's cloth once dipped?'

'You MUST be barbarians from the outer darkness,' said the Captain
scornfully. 'All wealthy nations know that our finest stuffs are twice
dyed--dibaptha. They're only for the robes of kings and priests and
princes.'

'What do the rich merchants wear,' asked Jane, with interest, 'in the
pleasure-houses?'

'They wear the dibaptha. OUR merchants ARE princes,' scowled the
skipper.

'Oh, don't be cross, we do so like hearing about things. We want to know
ALL about the dyeing,' said Anthea cordially.

'Oh, you do, do you?' growled the man. 'So that's what you're here for?
Well, you won't get the secrets of the dye trade out of ME.'

He went away, and everyone felt snubbed and uncomfortable. And all the
time the long, narrow eyes of the Egyptian were watching, watching. They
felt as though he was watching them through the darkness, when they lay
down to sleep on a pile of cloaks.

Next morning the baskets were drawn up full of what looked like whelk
shells.

The children were rather in the way, but they made themselves as small
as they could. While the skipper was at the other end of the boat they
did ask one question of a sailor, whose face was a little less unkind
than the others.

'Yes,' he answered, 'this is the dye-fish. It's