“Oh, you think so, do you? Didn’t you instigate the Wallypug to become a traitor, and sell the kingdom for the sake of a horse?” said the Crow, referring to his paper.
“Certainly not!” I cried emphatically.
“Well, they say you did, anyhow,” said the Crow, “and they intend to chop off your head and the Wallypug’s too. It won’t matter you not having a hat then,” he continued grimly.
“But you don’t mean it, surely!” I exclaimed. “They certainly can’t be so ridiculous as to treat the affair seriously.”
“Well, you see,” said the bird, “things without doubt look very black against you. In the first place what did you want to come here at all for?”
“I’m sure I wish I hadn’t,” I remarked.
“Just so! So does every one else,” said the Crow rudely. “Then, when you did come, you were without a hat, which is in itself a very suspicious circumstance.”
“Why?” I interrupted.
“Respectable people don’t go gadding about without hats,” said the bird contemptuously, turning up his beak. “And then, the first morning after your arrival you must needs go prowling about the grounds before any one else was up.”