He doubled up and sat down hard in one
movement; then turned on his side, and gasped and gasped.
[Illustration: As a battering ram upon the first and second buttons of
his waistcoat.]
"Come along!" cried Tinker in a most imperative tone. "A row is a
horrid nuisance when there are women in it!" And he caught his
charges, either by an arm, and bustled them out of the dell and down
the road.
Dorothy laughed as she ran; never before had she seen vaunting
arrogance brought low in so sudden and signal a fashion. At last she
stopped, dabbed away the tears of mirth, and said, "Oh, Tinker, I am so
much obliged to you! It's all very well to laugh now; but it might
have been horrid!"
"It was the simplest thing in the world," said Tinker. Then, rubbing
his head ruefully, he added, "I wish those foreigners would not wear
gold buttons on their white waistcoats in the daytime. They have no
more notion of how to dress than a cat--the men haven't."
They hurried along, looking back now and again to see if they were
followed. They were not, for Count Sigismond was now sitting up in the
shady dell, staring round it with fishy eyes, and wondering dully
whether he owed his disaster entirely to an angel child, or whether
Mont Pelee had affected the neighbourhood.
Pages:
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181