Mrs Bosenna, then, gloved and armed with a pair of secateurs, stood next morning by the base of the Devoniensis holding debate with herself.
The issue—that she would decide to spare the offender for yet another year—was in truth determined; for already William Skin had planted one ladder against the house-wall and had shuffled off to the barn for another, to be hoisted on to the slope of the thatch, and there belayed with a rope around the chimney-stack. But she yet played with the resolve, taken last year, to be stern and order execution. She was still toying with it when the garden-gate clicked, and looking up, she perceived Captain Cai.
"Ah! . . . Good morning, Captain Hocken!"
Cai advanced along the pathway and gravely doffed his hat.
"Good morning, ma'am—if I don't intrude?"
"Not at all. In fact I was expecting you."
"Er—on which errand, ma'am?"
"—Which?" echoed Mrs Bosenna, as if she did not understand.
"Shall we take the more painful business first?" suggested Cai humbly. "If indeed it has not—er—wiped out the other. The damage done yesterday to your field, ma'am—"
"Have you brought Captain Hunken along with you?" asked Mrs Bosenna, interrupting him.
"No, ma'am. He will be here in half an hour, sharp." Cai consulted his watch.