The others said "No," but they weren't at all comforted.

Another silence, longer and more miserable, was broken by Cyril's
suddenly saying, "I don't want to frighten you girls, but I believe it's
beginning with me already. My foot's quite dead. I'm turning to stone, I
know I am, and so will you in a minute."

"Never mind," said Robert kindly, "perhaps you'll be the only stone one,
and the rest of us will be all right, and we'll cherish your statue and
hang garlands on it."

But when it turned out that Cyril's foot had only gone to sleep through
his sitting too long with it under him, and when it came to life in an
agony of pins and needles, the others were quite cross.

"Giving us such a fright for nothing!" said Anthea.

[Illustration: Martha emptied a toilet-jug of cold water over him]

The third and miserablest silence of all was broken by Jane. She
said--

"If we _do_ come out of this all right, we'll ask the Sammyadd to make
it so that the servants don't notice anything different, no matter what
wishes we have."

The others only grunted. They were too wretched even to make good
resolutions.