The movement of its bright colours caught the eye of the Lamb, who went down on all fours instantly and began to pull at the red and blue threads.
'Aggedydaggedygaggedy,' murmured the Lamb; 'daggedy ag ag ag!' And before any one could have winked (even if they had wanted to, and it would not have been of the slightest use) the middle of the floor showed bare, an island of boards surrounded by a sea of linoleum.

The magic carpet was gone, AND SO WAS THE LAMB! There was a horrible silence.

The Lamb--the baby, all alone--had been wafted away on that untrustworthy carpet, so full of holes and magic.
And no one could know where he was.

And no one could follow him because there was now no carpet to follow on.
Jane burst into tears, but Anthea, though pale and frantic, was dry-eyed.
'It MUST be a dream,' she said.
'That's what the clergyman said,' remarked Robert forlornly; 'but it wasn't, and it isn't.' 'But the Lamb never wished,' said Cyril; 'he was only talking Bosh.' 'The carpet understands all speech,' said the Phoenix, 'even Bosh.

I know not this Boshland, but be assured that its tongue is not unknown to the carpet.' 'Do you mean, then,' said Anthea, in white terror, 'that when he was saying "Agglety dag," or whatever it was, that he meant something by it ?' 'All speech has meaning,' said the Phoenix.
'There I think you're wrong,' said Cyril; 'even people who talk English sometimes say things that don't mean anything in particular.' 'Oh, never mind that now,' moaned Anthea; 'you think "Aggety dag" meant something to him and the carpet ?' 'Beyond doubt it held the same meaning to the carpet as to the luckless infant,' the Phoenix said calmly.
'And WHAT did it mean?
Oh WHAT ?' 'Unfortunately,' the bird rejoined, 'I never studied Bosh.' Jane sobbed noisily, but the others were calm with what is sometimes called the calmness of despair.