The children had never before bathed in baths of gold.
“It feels very splendid,” said Cyril, splashing.
“At least, of course, it’s not gold; it’s or—what’s its name,” said Robert. “Hand over that towel.”
The bathing hall had several great pools sunk below the level of the floor; one went down to them by steps.
“Jimmy,” said Anthea timidly, when, very clean and boiled-looking, they all met in the flowery courtyard of the Public, “don’t you think all this seems much more like _now_ than Babylon or Egypt—? Oh, I forgot, you’ve never been there.”
“I know a little of those nations, however,” said he, “and I quite agree with you. A most discerning remark—my dear,” he added awkwardly; “this city certainly seems to indicate a far higher level of civilization than the Egyptian or Babylonish, and—”
“Follow me,” said the Captain. “Now, boys, get out of the way.” He pushed through a little crowd of boys who were playing with dried chestnuts fastened to a string.
“Ginger!” remarked Robert, “they’re playing conkers, just like the kids in Kentish Town Road!”
They could see now that three walls surrounded the island on which they were. The outermost wall was of brass, the Captain told them; the next, which looked like silver, was covered with tin; and the innermost one was of oricalchum.
And right in the middle was a wall of gold, with golden towers and gates.
“Behold the Temples of Poseidon,” said the Captain. “It is not lawful for me to enter. I will await your return here.”
He told them what they ought to say, and the five people from Fitzroy Street took hands and went forward. The golden gates slowly opened.
“We are the children of the Sun,” said Cyril, as he had been told, “and our High Priest, at least that’s what the Captain calls him. We have a different name for him at home.”
“What is his name?” asked a white-robed man who stood in the doorway with his arms extended.
“Ji-jimmy,” replied Cyril, and he hesitated as Anthea had done. It really did seem to be taking a great liberty with so learned a gentleman. “And we have come to speak with your Kings in the Temple of Poseidon—does that word sound right?” he whispered anxiously.
“Quite,” said the learned gentleman. “It’s very odd I can understand what you say to them, but not what they say to you.”