. 'By the sacred, secret name that is written
under the Altar of Amen-Ra, I will deal fairly by you. Will you, too,
take the oath of honourable partnership?'

'No,' said Anthea, on the instant, and added rather rashly. 'We don't
swear in England, except in police courts, where the guards are,
you know, and you don't want to go there. But when we SAY we'll do a
thing--it's the same as an oath to us--we do it. You trust us, and we'll
trust you.' She began to unbind his legs, and the boys hastened to untie
his arms.

When he was free he stood up, stretched his arms, and laughed.

'Now,' he said, 'I am stronger than you and my oath is void. I have
sworn by nothing, and my oath is nothing likewise. For there IS no
secret, sacred name under the altar of Amen-Ra.'

'Oh, yes there is!' said a voice from under the bed. Everyone
started--Rekh-mara most of all.

Cyril stooped and pulled out the bath of sand where the Psammead slept.
'You don't know everything, though you ARE a Divine Father of the Temple
of Amen,' said the Psammead shaking itself till the sand fell tinkling
on the bath edge. 'There IS a secret, sacred name beneath the altar of
Amen-Ra. Shall I call on that name?'

'No, no!' cried the Priest in terror.

'No,' said Jane, too. 'Don't let's have any calling names.'

'Besides,' said Rekh-mara, who had turned very white indeed under his
natural brownness, 'I was only going to say that though there isn't any
name under--'

'There IS,' said the Psammead threateningly.

'Well, even if there WASN'T, I will be bound by the wordless oath
of your strangely upright land, and having said that I will be your
friend--I will be it.'

'Then that's all right,' said the Psammead; 'and there's the tea-bell.
What are you going to do with your distinguished partner? He can't go
down to tea like that, you know.'

'You see we can't do anything till the 3rd of December,' said Anthea,
'that's when we are to find the whole charm. What can we do with
Rekh-mara till then?'

'Box-room,' said Cyril briefly, 'and smuggle up his meals. It will be
rather fun.'

'Like a fleeing Cavalier concealed from exasperated Roundheads,' said
Robert. 'Yes.'

So Rekh-mara was taken up to the box-room and made as comfortable as
possible in a snug nook between an old nursery fender and the wreck of
a big four-poster. They gave him a big rag-bag to sit on, and an old,
moth-eaten fur coat off the nail on the door to keep him warm. And when
they h