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Dickie strove to dissuade him. "Keep in the clear of that old hypocrite," she cautioned. "If he lets you have it at all it will be only with strings which will tangle you up later on." Gregory was on his way to the door. "A man needing money like I do at present has to get it where he can," he answered. "Will you see to getting the Pelican and Curlew started as soon as possible?"
You shall go to school with Edred and be brought up like my very own son." And, like Lord Arden's very own son, Dickie lived at the house in Arden Castle, and grew to love it more and more. He no longer wanted to get away from these present times to those old days when James the First was King. The times you are born in are always more home-like than any other times can be.
"I was wondering whether you'd let me go down and have a look at it?" "Of course," said the girl. "Come on." "Wait a minute," said Dickie, nerving himself to the test. If they didn't remember him they'd think he was mad, and never show him the Castle. Never mind! Now for it! "Did you ever have a tutor called Mr. Parados?" he asked. And again the others looked at him and at each other.
"You were dead game," Gregory cut in. "You saved me from that fellow's knife and you know it." Dickie Lang made no reply but sat with her arms resting on the cabin-table, looking off into space. Again she saw herself huddled against the rocks, looking down into the sunlit water of the cove, waiting for the men to come to the surface.
Dickie and the nurse sat most of the night talking by the replenished fire, for the tale seemed endless. Dickie learned that the Edred and Elfrida who belonged to his own times had a father who was supposed to be dead. "I am forbidden to tell them," said the nurse, "but thou canst help them, and shalt." "I should like that," said Dickie "but can't I see the white Mouldiwarp?"
Before you say anything more wait until you see what luck they've had. If I don't miss my guess we'll have fish enough for you now all right." Together they walked down the steep gangway to the swaying float. "If I can't get them at Diablo, I can't get them anywhere," exclaimed Dickie Lang. Then she shouted to the captain of the Curlew: "What luck, Jones?"
Not consciously, certainly, and yet Marion told herself miserably that things would never have tangled themselves into this knot if she had been at Bessacre. She could not leave Dickie, for even his father could not satisfy him for any length of time. It was his mother he clung to in the weariness of convalescence, and it was out of the question to move him yet.
Dickie laughed at his discomfiture until the tears shone in her eyes, while McCoy regarded his employer with suspicion. Aunt Mary finished polishing her spectacles and settled back to listen. "I'm all ready to hear it," she announced. "Perhaps you had better come nearer so you will not have to speak so loud." Dickie came to Gregory's rescue and explained the situation to her aunt.
"Where is 'oor 'ittle gal?" asked Dickie. "Lost, missie! lost!" said Andrew shaking his head mournfully. "I sha'n't never see her no more now. Parson he was very kind, an' offered a reward, an' set the perlice to work to find her. 'Twarn't all no good.
The excited jargon of the islanders as they came upon their disabled fellow confirmed the truth of his words. Jabbering to themselves, and casting sullen glances in the direction of the Petrel, they carried the man over the ledge to the beach. "Mr. Bandrist," said Dickie clearly. "I've as much right to be here as you have. You can't legally keep me from taking the engine out of this boat.
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