“Good Lord!” gasped the duke.
“Diable!” sputtered the count.
“Splendid!” cried Penelope, her eyes sparkling.
“Hang it all, Pen, don't interrupt the count,” snorted Bazelhurst, for want of something better to say and perhaps hoping that Deveaux might say in French what could not be uttered in English.
“Don't say it in French, count,” said little Miss Folsom. “It deserves English.”
“Go on, James,” sternly, from Lady Bazelhurst.
“Well, neither of us can swim, your ladyship, an' we'd 'a' drowned if Mr.—if Shaw had n't jumped in himself an' pulled us out. As it was, sir, Tompkins was unconscious. We rolled him on a log, sir, an' got a keg of water out of him. Then Mr.—er—Shaw told us to go 'ome and get in bed, sir.”
“He sent a message to you, sir,” added Tompkins, shivering mightily.
“Well, I 'll have one for him, never fear,” said his lordship, glancing about bravely. “I won't permit any man to assault my servants and brutally maltreat them. No, sir! He shall hear from me—or my attorney.”
“He told us to tell you, sir, that if he ever caught anybody from this place on his land he'd serve him worse than he did us,” said Tompkins.