it's all right.'

The Psammead ought to have been touched by this proof of
confidence. Perhaps, however, it looked upon it as a proof of
doubt, for it merely snarled--

'If you don't go now I'll never help you again.'

'OH,' whispered Anthea, 'dear Jane, don't! Think of Father and
Mother and all of us getting our heart's desire. And we can go
back any minute. Come on!'

'Besides,' said Cyril, in a low voice, 'the Psammead must know
there's no danger or it wouldn't go. It's not so over and above
brave itself. Come on!'

This Jane at last consented to do.

As they got nearer to the browny fence they saw that it was a
great hedge about eight feet high, made of piled-up thorn bushes.

'What's that for?' asked Cyril.

'To keep out foes and wild beasts,' said the girl.

'I should think it ought to, too,' said he. 'Why, some of the
thorns are as long as my foot.'

There was an opening in the hedge, and they followed the girl
through it. A little way further on was another hedge, not so