Lionel, however, was full of excitement, and eager to be off again for a ride on the marvellous Magic Carpet.

“I say! you know! but it’s the rippingest thing I’ve ever heard of.  Why, we’ll be able to go anywhere.  Just think what an awful lot we’ll save in railway fares and cabs and those sort of things.  I suppose anybody can use it?” he inquired, turning to Shin Shira.

“Oh yes, of course,” declared the little Yellow Dwarf, “so long as you say, out loud, where you want to go to.”

“Oh!  Do let’s go out again—­just for a little while,” pleaded Lionel.  “Can’t we go to Gammage’s?  He lives over at Wimbledon.  It’s quite easy to get to, and it won’t take long.  We could be back to lunch, and I should so like him to see the Magic Carpet.  Do come, sir.”

“No,” I replied, shaking my head, “I’m too tired.  You two can go if you like, only be back in an hour and a half.”

“Oh, jolly!” cried Lionel.  “Come on, please—­let’s start at once.”

And he picked up the carpet under his arm.

“I think it would attract less attention if, instead of starting from the pavement, we went out of the window,” said Shin Shira.  “What do you say?”

“By all means,” I replied, “if you think best,” for you see, having ridden on it myself, I felt perfectly safe in trusting my young cousin on the Magic Carpet, and I felt sure that Shin Shira would not let him come to any harm.

So we opened the window, and a minute later the two were gaily floating away out of sight, both energetically waving their pocket-handkerchiefs until they disappeared.

I could tell by the noise in the street that their strange method of conveyance was attracting considerable attention; but as I felt thankful to note, no one seemed to connect their appearance with my rooms.

The next hour or so passed quickly enough, and I did not begin to get in the least anxious till I heard the clock strike two, and then I suddenly realised that they were over half-an-hour late.

“Oh, they’re all right,” I consoled myself with thinking.  “I expect Gammage is so interested in the wonderful carpet that they can’t get away.”

When three hours had passed, however, and there was no sign of their return, I began to get seriously alarmed.

“What can have happened?” I thought, and, to add to my discomfiture, a telegram arrived from Lionel’s parents inquiring if he had arrived in London safely from Marlborough.

I was able to reply, truthfully, that he had arrived safely, but, as hour after hour passed by without any trace of either Shin Shira or the boy, I became more and more disturbed.

At last I could stand it no longer, but putting on my hat, I hurried off to the nearest Police Station.

“H’m!  What do you say, sir?” said the Police Inspector whom I found there, seated before a large open book, when in a broken voice I had hurriedly explained that I feared that my young cousin was lost.  “Went off in company with a foreign-looking gent—­Just describe him to me, please, as near as you can.”