patterns, and the most wonderful things made of flint and
different sorts of stone, beads, and ornaments, and tools and
weapons of all sorts and kinds.

'It is really wonderful,' said Cyril patronizingly, 'when you
consider that it's all eight thousand years ago--'

'I don't understand you,' said the girl.

'It ISN'T eight thousand years ago,' whispered Jane. 'It's
NOW--and that's just what I don't like about it. I say, DO let's
get home again before anything more happens. You can see for
yourselves the charm isn't here.'

'What's in that place in the middle?' asked Anthea, struck by a
sudden thought, and pointing to the fence.

'That's the secret sacred place,' said the girl in a whisper.
'No one knows what is there. There are many walls, and inside
the insidest one IT is, but no one knows what IT is except the
headsmen.'

'I believe YOU know,' said Cyril, looking at her very hard.

'I'll give you this if you'll tell me,' said Anthea taking off a
bead-ring which had already been much admired.

'Yes,' said the girl, catching eagerly at the ring. 'My father
is one of the heads, and I know a water charm to make him talk in
his sleep. And he has spoken. I will tell you. But if they