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“I see! I see!” she cried eagerly. “That’s how the man who painted that picture imagined it looked when it was new, ages ago? He hasn’t imagined it badly, has he, Godmother? The boat is just passing the fortress, and it’s very much like the one we really went up, isn’t it? And he’s made the river clear, with grassy banks, just as it was. And the soldiers are quite good too. They did look like that! Oh! Godmother, how did they find this boat?”

“Here’s a notice that will tell you. It was dug up, you see, a few years ago—in 1910, to be precise—when men were at work on a road in Lambeth.”

“Under a road?” echoed Betty. “But how did it get there?”

“Have you forgotten already what you saw yesterday? Don’t you remember that the Thames then spread out all over what is now Lambeth as well as over Westminster on the opposite bank? This boat was found in what then was the bed of the river, and is now land covered with buildings.”

“Yes, I understand. Oh, Godmother, do you think it could be the very galley we saw? Perhaps it is!”