“Your boat, is it?” said Brannigan.
“I sent down word to Peter Walsh to have her ready for me at twelve, or, if my daughter had taken her out——”
“It would be better,” said Brannigan, “if you were to see Peter Walsh yourself. Sure I don’t know what’s happened to your boat.”
“Where’s Peter Walsh?”
“He’s down at the end of the quay putting an extra coat of paint on Miss Priscilla’s boat. I don’t know what sense there is in doing the like, but of course he wouldn’t care to go contrary to what the young lady might say.”
Sir Lucius left the shop abruptly. At the door he ran into Lord Torrington and the police sergeant.
“Damn it all, Lentaigne,” said Lord Torrington, “how are we going to get out?”
“There was boats in it,” said the police sergeant, “plenty of them, when I gave your lordship’s message to Peter Walsh.”
“Where are they now?” said Lord Torrington. “What’s the good of telling me they were here when they’re not?”
The police sergeant looked cautiously round.