The cats mewed and mewed and twisted their Persian forms in and out
and unfolded their Persian tails, and the children and the Phoenix
huddled together on the table.
The Phoenix, Robert noticed suddenly, was trembling.
'So many cats,' it said, 'and they might not know I was the
Phoenix. These accidents happen so quickly. It quite un-mans me.'
This was a danger of which the children had not thought.
'Creep in,' cried Robert, opening his jacket.
And the Phoenix crept in--only just in time, for green eyes had
glared, pink noses had sniffed, white whiskers had twitched, and as
Robert buttoned his coat he disappeared to the waist in a wave of
eager grey Persian fur. And on the instant the good carpet slapped
itself down on the floor. And it was covered with rats--three hundred
and ninety-eight of them, I believe, two for each cat.
'How horrible!' cried Anthea. 'Oh, take them away!'
'Take yourself away,' said the Phoenix, 'and me.'
'I wish we'd never had a carpet,' said Anthea, in tears.
They hustled and crowded out of the door, and shut it, and locked
it. Cyril, with great presence of mind, lit a candle and turned
off the gas at the main.
'The rats'll have a better chance in the dark,' he said.
The mewing had ceased. Every one listened in breathless silence.
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