# Blue Magic/Chapter 3

CHAPTER III
THE AMULET
FEN had been lying for some time with closed eyes when something like a very light kiss on his forehead made him open them instantly, but nothing was to be seen. He sat, tense and expectant, when all at once a little chain of mummy-beads, with a small, greenish charm attached to it, dropped quietly into his lap. He looked up with a gasp.
"Siddereticus!" he cried, "please don't be invisible! Oh, I do want to see you!"
The Djinn, tall and impressive, stood beside him. He was clad in a blue robe which fell straight from neck to ankle, and on his head was a crimson fez. Fen ​gazed at him, speechless and awe-struck.
"Now I'm sure you're a Djinn!" he murmured at length.
"Greeting, Fen Effendi," said Siddereticus, seating himself cross-legged on the deck. "Alone again?"
"Well, they're not ashore to-day," answered Fen. "Father's up for'ard smoking, an' I think Larry went to talk to the engineer, an' Mother's writing letters, an' Sally's reading, I think."
"Very good," said Siddereticus, and, putting out his hand, picked up the chain from Fen's lap.
"Please tell me about it," said the little boy. "Is it a magic?"
"Well," replied Siddereticus, "it's an amulet—a sort of talisman, you know. They do different things—you wear them round your neck, and they protect you against evil spirits and sickness and famine and such."
​"Does this one do that?" asked Fen, eagerly. "What does the carving mean? It looks like people."
"It is. Two people standing hand in hand,—and it protects you from loneliness. It isn't as powerful a charm as some of them are, and it doesn't always work; but on the whole, I think it does pretty well."
He hung it about Fen's neck as he spoke, muttering a few words of Arabic. Fen, quite overcome, clasped his hands fervently.
"I sha'n't ever feel lonely with this on," he said, "I'll feel as if you were there. And oh," he added, "it was you that came in the middle of the water and made such a beautiful song, all for me! And the star was my night-lamp and shined in at me."
"I'm glad it obeyed instructions," said Siddereticus.
​"What did it mean, please," asked Fen, holding the amulet, "about the somethings singing in the dawn?"
"The Memnon?" said Siddereticus. "Alas, people say that it happens no more, but I, for one, believe that it does—in solitary dawns, when no living creature is about. But I'll tell you."
He lit a cigarette, and for a moment watched the blue smoke rising straight upward in the still air. Then he went on:
"Far into the desert, where it is sometimes overflowed by the Nile, stand two great statues, bigger than anything you can imagine, yet each one is carven from a single block of stone. Their mighty hands rest on their knees; the wind and the sand have worn away their faces; armies that are passed and gone have shattered the great crowns they used long ago to wear. Silent they sit there, as they ​have sat for ages, while the water creeps over their feet, and they are reflected in it. But—when the first rays of the sun touch them, and light up their mighty forms, they lift a faint, mystic voice and sing,—one high note that dies away as the sun rises—and then they are dumb again till another dawn."
Fen's eyes were wide and shining; he held the amulet with both hands and said not a word.
"So you see," said Siddereticus, "they sing in the dawn, and the storks fly, but I come and sing people to sleep in the dusk."
Just then Sally's voice could be heard, crying, "Oh, Fen!" and the Djinn sprang to his feet. Fen hastily thrust the amulet inside his dressing-gown, as Sally appeared at the head of the companionway. Siddereticus took one step toward her, made a quick pass with his hand, and had ​vanished over the side, his blue robe fluttering behind him, all before Sally could close her mouth, which she had opened in astonishment.
"So that's your Djinn, is it?" she said at last. "Well, I must say he's quite Djinnish-looking enough for anybody."
"You—you drove him away," faltered Fen, his hand pressed over the place where the amulet lay.
"Lan's sakes a-massy, chile!" cried Mammy, as she put Fen to bed that night; "wha' dis hyar heathen foolishness you-all got eroun' yo' naick?" and she put out her hand to it.
Fen shrank away from her with terror in his eyes.
"Don't touch it! Please!" he cried.
"Lemme dess take it offen you, so's I kin wash you nice," she begged. But Fen's distress was so real, and he clung ​to the amulet with such frantically repeated appeals, that Mammy was forced to yield.
"Dar, dar, honey!" she said soothingly; "Mammy woan' tech it. Dess you lay a-still, so's I kin wash you nice."
Fen listened and waited in vain for a song from the river, and went to sleep at last with his face to the star that Siddereticus had appointed as his night-light, and with his hand over the amulet that was to protect him from loneliness.