‘We like to keep what we have, in Neopalia,’ said he.
I asked him if he would provide us with a meal, and, assenting gruffly, he left us alone. The food was some time in coming, and we stood at the window, peering through our prison bars. Our high spirits were dashed by the unfriendly reception; my island should have been more gracious; it was so beautiful.
‘However it’s a better welcome than we should have got two hundred years ago,’ I said with a laugh, trying to make the best of the matter.
Dinner, which the landlord himself brought in, cheered us again, and we lingered over it till dusk began to fall, discussing whether I ought to visit the lord, or whether, seeing that he had not come to receive me, my dignity did not demand that I should await his visit; and it was on this latter course that we finally decided.
‘But he’ll hardly come to-night,’ said Denny, jumping up. ‘I wonder if there are any decent beds here!’
Hogvardt and Watkins had, by my directions, sat down with us; the former was now smoking his pipe at the window, while Watkins was busy overhauling our luggage. We had brought light bags, the rods, guns, and other smaller articles. The rest was in the yacht. Hearing beds mentioned, Watkins shook his head in dismal presage, saying,
‘We had better sleep on board, my lord.’
‘Not I! What, leave the island now we’ve got here? No, Watkins!’
‘Very good, my lord,’ said Watkins impassively.
A sudden call came from Hogvardt, and I joined him at the window.