Songs were sung, and the laureate of the Sea-Dwellers, a young M.A.with pale blue eyes and no chin, recited an ode beginning-- Now that we have our Noble Ark No more we tremble in the dark When the great seas and the winds cry out, For we are safe without a doubt.
At undue risings of the tide Within our Ark we'll safely hide, And bless the names of those who thus Have built a painted Ark for us.
There were three hundred and seventeen more lines, very much like these, and every one said it was wonderful, and the laureate was a genius, and how did he do it, and what brains, eh?
and things like that.
And Philip and Lucy had crowns too.

The Lord High Islander made a vote of thanks to Philip, who modestly replied that it was nothing, really, and anybody could have done it.

And a spirit of gladness spread about among the company so that every one was smiling and shaking hands with everybody else, and even the M.A.'s were making little polite old jokes, and slapping each other on the back and calling each other 'old chap,' which was not at all their habit in ordinary life.

The whole castle was decorated with garlands of pink and green seaweed like the wreaths that people were wearing, and the whole scene was the gayest and happiest you can imagine.
And then the dreadful thing happened.
Philip and Lucy were standing in their seaweed tunics, for of course they had, since the first day, worn the costume of the country, on the platform in the courtyard.

Mr.Noah had just said, 'Well, then, we will enjoy this enjoyable day to the very end and return to the city to-morrow,' when a shadow fell on the group.