The carpet seemed to awaken to new energy as soon as it had got rid
of their weight, and it rose high in the air. The others lay down
flat and peeped over the edge of the rising carpet.
'Are you hurt?' cried Cyril, and Robert shouted 'No,' and next
moment the carpet had sped away, and Jane and Robert were hidden
from the sight of the others by a stack of smoky chimneys.
'Oh, how awful!' said Anthea.
'It might have been worse,' said the Phoenix. 'What would have
been the sentiments of the survivors if that darn had given way
when we were crossing the river?'
'Yes, there's that,' said Cyril, recovering himself. 'They'll be
all right. They'll howl till some one gets them down, or drop
tiles into the front garden to attract attention of passersby.
Bobs has got my one-and-fivepence--lucky you forgot to mend that
hole in my pocket, Panther, or he wouldn't have had it. They can
tram it home.'
But Anthea would not be comforted.
'It's all my fault,' she said. 'I KNEW the proper way to darn, and
I didn't do it. It's all my fault. Let's go home and patch the
carpet with your Etons--something really strong--and send it to
fetch them.'
'All right,' said Cyril; 'but your Sunday jacket is stronger than
my Etons. We must just chuck mother's present, that's all.
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