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I saw Nat whip out his sword and swing about angrily in the direction of the shot, while the two women laid hands on either arm to check him; and at the same moment my father spoke up sharply in my ear. "Tumble out, lad," he commanded. "We are in bare time." I vaulted over the window-ledge and dropped into the street; my father after me, and Mr. Fett and Billy close behind.
The poor child, who had partaken but sparingly, lingered until the next noon before succumbing." "A strange fatality!" commented Mr. Badcock. Mr. Fett paused, and eyed him awhile in frank admiration before continuing. "The wonder to me is you didn't call it a coincidence," he murmured. "Well, and so it was," said Mr. Badcock, "only the word didn't occur to me." "The bodies," resumed Mr.
"I couldn't think upon no better way," the seaman repeated wistfully, almost plaintively. "She's what you might call sensitive to stones." "Intelligent beast!" commented Mr. Fett. "And I bought that mare only six months ago!" "But what business have you to be driving my cart and horses?" he demanded. "And what's the meaning of these stones you're carting?" "Ballast, your honour." "Ballast?"
On the instant the loud rattle and thunder of cartwheels broke forth again, and now but a short distance up the lane; also a voice almost as loudly vociferating; and, almost before Mr. Fett could run back to us, a whole volley of stones flew hurtling across the road. "Hi, there! Halt!"
"Speaking less as an expert than from an imagination quickened by terror of all missiles, I suggest that a hundredweight or so of empty bottles, nicely broken up, would lend a d d disagreeable diversity to the charge " "Not a bad idea at all," agreed my father. "And a certain sting to our defiance; since I understand these ruffians drink nothing stronger than water," Mr. Fett concluded.
"You say little, as a rule, Prosper. It is a good fault in kings." We walked back to the churchyard, where Mr. Fett sat up, rubbing his eyes in the dawn, and hailed us. "Good morning, signors! I have been dreaming that I came to a kingdom which, indeed, seemed to be an island, but on inspection proved to be a mushroom. What interpretation have you when a man dreams of mushrooms?"
"Have ye not seyn som tyme a pale face Among a prees, of him that hath be lad Toward his death, wher-as him gat no grace, And swich a colour in his face hath had, Men mighte knowe his face that was bistad, Amonges alle the faces in that route." CHAUCER. Man of Lawe's Tale. "Criticism," said Mr. Fett, with his mouth full of sausage, "is the flower of all the arts."
The old man, who proved to be the sexton, assured us not only of this, but also that previous to the interment of the Robinsons no mushrooms had grown within a mile of the spot. Micklethwaite detect that they differed at all from the common agaricus campestris. So, sirs, concludes my tale." Mr. Fett ended amid impressive silence.
"He has sobered down strangely from the urchin I remember on Winchester meads; and in the sobering he has grown exalted. A man might almost say," mused my father, "that the imp in him had shed itself off and taken flesh in that Master Fett I left snoring with his head on my dining-table. An earthy spirit, that Master Fett; earthy and yet somewhat inhuman.
Fett too, who could only manage to limp a little, climbed up to the loft soon after midday and lay down for a rest. "Sir John and I, left alone downstairs, took what we called a siesta, each in his chair, and Sir John's chair by the shaded window. For my part, I was glad enough for forty winks, and could have enlisted among the Seven Sleepers after those cruel four days in the mountains.
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