“I’m afraid there’s not much chance of that,” said Ronnie, “but who knows?” Then, starting to his feet, “Oh, Lord, here are the professor and Lizzie coming to look for us! We can finish our jaw in the garden, after our so-called dinner. Let us advance to meet them, it saves time, and looks empressé. Call up that dog, he is hunting water rats. Well, good-bye, old bridge,” he went on, slapping the grey stone parapet as he spoke, “I don’t expect we shall ever meet again, but I jolly well hope those visions will come true!”
CHAPTER II
BEKE
Professor Septimus Puckle must have been considerably over sixty years of age, a burly, slouching figure, moving with a ponderous and pompous gait; he had a grey beard, two shallow little brown eyes, and a dome-shaped head covered by a soft cap—he also wore a roomy suit of creased black-and-white flannel, and elastic-side boots. In these days, Lizzie, his niece, seemed elderly to me—possibly she may have been about forty. Her figure was remarkably pretty, and her sharp, clever face was illuminated by a pair of bright eyes which shone steadily behind a pince-nez. Perhaps her manner was somewhat abrupt and authoritative, but Lizzie was a capable and cultivated woman, with a level head and warm heart.
“So here you are!” began the professor; “we have come out to look for you.”
“Thanks awfully,” replied my brother, “but there’s not much fear of being lost in these parts, as apparently there is only one road.”
“Oh, we have others—several others,” protested Lizzie. “Where is Kipper?” now looking about. “We must be getting back to tea, as I have a choir practice at half-past five,” and she screamed “Kipper! Kipper! Kipper!”
After a momentary delay, Kipper emerged from under the bridge a deplorable object, dripping with muddy water, and immediately proceeded to shake himself in our vicinity.
“Get away! get away!” shouted the professor, making a drive at him with his stick.
“Oh, poor boy!” I interposed, “he has been hunting rats, and having such a happy time.”
“Yes, that’s all he thinks of, the horrid brute. I hate the sight of him,” declared his master.