Weldon leaped on instant to the ground. "Do, do!" he almost groaned.
He was a generous youngster. "And forgive me!" he said. "If you can—it was a coward blow."
"Gladly I'll forgive you," I replied, and we clasped hands.
"I'll help you load the beast," said he.
But I put my foot on my baggage. "That mule," I said, "belongs to Sir Robert Ottley. I'll not risk the breaking of his back."
We looked at one another and I saw the Captain understood me. He turned rather sheepishly away, but did not mount immediately.
Miss Ottley was gazing over the desert. "You must know you are behaving like a child," she cuttingly remarked.
I shook my head at the Captain. "That means you are keeping a lady waiting," I observed.
He smiled wrily in spite of himself. "Scottish, are you not?" he asked.
"From Aberdeen."