“What does he mean?” asked Marjorie, staring blankly at her brother.
“I don’t know,” confessed Dick. “I beg your pardon,” he went on, addressing the Walrus, “but I didn’t quite hear what you said.”
“Sprechen sie Deutsch?” inquired the Walrus, with an encouraging smile.
“I can’t tell what the chap is talking about,” said Dick, turning to the others in dismay.
“Dond”t you undershtandt German, eh?” said the Walrus. “Ach! dat vos verry bad,” and he shook his head reproachfully.
“I don’t know,” argued Dick. “I can’t see that it matters much. We are not likely to go there, you know.”
“Not?” said the Walrus, lifting his eyebrows. “Vell, dere vos some funny peoples in der vorld. Perhaps you dond”t vant to go dere?”
“Not much,” admitted Dick.
The Walrus shrugged his shoulders, and looked commiseratingly at the dog, who gave a sniff, and shrugged his shoulders too.
“What we want to know,” said Dick, in a businesslike way, “is, Where are we now, and how are we to get back to England?”