I opened my eyes. "The bees? It's a very offensive power."
"No, Boy, the people. They simply swarm all over some persons, and it's all right."
I shuddered.
"Perhaps," said Berry, looking at me, "perhaps you have that power. Who knows?"
"Who will ever know?" said I defiantly.
"We can easily find out," said Berry eagerly.
I sat up. "It is," I said, "just conceivable that I have that power. I do not recollect my immersion in the Styx, but it is, I suppose, not impossible that, although I am not actually invulnerable, my sterling qualities may yet be so apparent to the bee mind that, even were I so indiscreet as to lay hands upon their hive, they would not so far forget themselves as to assail me. At the same time, it is equally on the cards that the inmates of the hive I so foolishly approached would be a dull lot—shall we say, Boeotian bees? Or an impulsive lot, who sting first and look for qualities afterwards. In short, mistakes will occur, and, as an orphan and a useful member of society, I must refuse to gratify your curiosity."
"I think you might try," said Daphne. "We want them to swarm awfully, and they might actually swarm on you. You never know."
"Pardon me, I do know. I have no doubt that they would swarm on me. No doubt at all."
"Well, then—"