Cyril pushed the learned gentleman, as undoubtedly the first-born, through the arch--not into water, but on to a wooden floor, out of doors.

The others followed.
The Amulet grew smaller again, and there they all were, standing on the deck of a ship whose sailors were busy making her fast with chains to rings on a white quay-side.

The rings and the chains were of a metal that shone red-yellow like gold.
Everyone on the ship seemed too busy at first to notice the group of newcomers from Fitzroy Street.

Those who seemed to be officers were shouting orders to the men.
They stood and looked across the wide quay to the town that rose beyond it.

What they saw was the most beautiful sight any of them had ever seen--or ever dreamed of.
The blue sea sparkled in soft sunlight; little white-capped waves broke softly against the marble breakwaters that guarded the shipping of a great city from the wilderness of winter winds and seas.