'You always do,' said Cyril, briefly. 'Look here, we can't leave
Robert up there. I wish the carpet would fetch him down.'

The carpet seemed to awake from a dream and pull itself together.
It stiffened itself briskly and floated up between the four walls
of the tower. The children below craned their heads back, and
nearly broke their necks in doing it. The carpet rose and rose.
It hung poised darkly above them for an anxious moment or two; then
it dropped down again, threw itself on the uneven floor of the
tower, and as it did so it tumbled Robert out on the uneven floor
of the tower.

'Oh, glory!' said Robert, 'that was a squeak. You don't know how
I felt. I say, I've had about enough for a bit. Let's wish
ourselves at home again and have a go at that jam tart and mutton.
We can go out again afterwards.'

'Righto!' said every one, for the adventure had shaken the nerves
of all. So they all got on to the carpet again, and said--

'I wish we were at home.'

And lo and behold, they were no more at home than before. The
carpet never moved. The Phoenix had taken the opportunity to go to
sleep. Anthea woke it up gently.

'Look here,' she said.

'I'm looking,' said the Phoenix.