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Maurice nodded, his face grave. "Go an' tell Croaker an' Ringdo the whole business, an' let that crow an' swamp-coon 'tend to you." Mr. Ringold fairly gasped. "Oh, the thankless, misguided wretches!" he exclaimed. "And to think that we were foolish enough to feel that we hadn't treated 'em with Christian kindness. Did you hear 'em say what time they was comin', boy?".
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"Croaker," Erie called. At the sound of her voice the crow stopped trying to tear the nosepiece from the lens and cocked his head side-wise. "Yes, we mustn't forget Billy, God bless him." Maurice squirmed in torture. Already the burning wild turnip was getting in its work. His throat felt as though it were filled with porcupine quills. He tried to voice a protest against the injustice Billy had done him but it ended in a wheeze. "Good!" cried the Admiral with a laugh and an applauding flourish of the hand, and[Pg 94] with this laugh, and smiles and bows from the ladies, Sir William and his companions pursued their way to the Minorca..
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