I wish I had time to tell you all that happened to Kathleen, because the daily life of a pampered lap-child to a reigning Queen is one that you would find most interesting to read about. As interesting as your Rover or Binkie would find it to read—if he could read—about the life of one of Queen Alexandra’s Japanese Spaniels. But time is getting on, and I must make a long story short. And anyhow you can never tell all about everything, can you?
The next day the Jailers brought food to the prison, as well as a second draught of oblivion, which, of course, had no effect, and they spent the day wondering how they could escape. In the evening the Jailer’s son brought more food and more oblivion-cup, and he lingered while they ate. He did not look at all unkind, and Francis ventured to speak to him.
“I say,” he said.
“What do you say?” the Under-lad asked.
“Are you forbidden to talk to us?”
“No.”
“Then do tell us what they will do with us.”
“I do not know. But we shall have to know before long. The prisons are filling up quickly—they will soon be quite full. Then we shall have to let some of you out on what is called ticket-of-leave—that means with your artificial tails on, which prevent you getting away, even if the oblivion-cup doesn’t take effect.”
“I say,” it was Bernard’s turn to ask.