At that moment， not in the room itself but from somewhere very close， there came， first a rumbling， then a creaking， and then a roar of falling masonry， and the floor shook.
“There is great peril here，” said the Queen. “The whole palace is breaking up. If we are not out of it in a few minutes we shall be buried under the ruin.” She spoke as calmly as if she had been merely mentioning the time of day. “Come，” she added， and held out a hand to each of the children. Polly， who was disliking the Queen and feeling rather sulky， would not have let her hand be taken if she could have helped it. But though the Queen spoke so calmly， her movements were as quick as thought. Before Polly knew what was happening her left hand had been caught in a hand so much larger and stronger than her own that she could do nothing about it.