And I will your most faithful friend and servant ever be.
I long for wealth, for ease and peace, for honour, fame, and might;
O spirits, hasten—hasten——
George hesitated, stammered, stopped! The necromancers rhymes were too much for his already overstocked brain. He made one more desperate effort, but Charles, with his habitual promptness, cut him short, shouting:
“——hasten us out of this sad plight!”
At this, the others tore out their handkerchiefs and laughed derisively.
George wheeled round quickly, and just in time to see five handkerchiefs shoved into as many pockets. He did not know what they had been doing with their handkerchiefs, but he was angry, and he said, snappishly: “Look here, if you boys can’t behave any better than that, you had better stay at home! I didn’t come here to amuse gigglers, and I won’t do it. No; I’ll stop right here; I won’t go on with the experiment.”
Charles knew’ that this was only an idle threat, but he said, hastily: “Now, George, you’re too old and too sensible to be vexed because we laugh at what is comical. To-morrow you’ll laugh yourself. And besides, what did we come here for? To rout the necromancer, or to be routed ourselves?”
“Of course; we came here to enjoy ourselves and have some fun,” chimed in Stephen.
“Yes, but you might behave yourselves,” the Sage growled. “Now, where was I? Oh, pshaw! it’s all a muddle! Only two or three more lines, and it would have been finished. Well,” brightening up, “perhaps the charm isn’t spoilt; and, Steve, hand me your bow and arrows.”