“Now, sir,” cried Sir Francis angrily, “have the goodness to explain what you were doing there.”
This was to Ike, who seemed stupid and confused. The excitement of the fight had roused him up for a few minutes; but as soon as that was over he yawned very loudly, and when Sir Francis turned fiercely upon him and asked him that question he said aloud:
“Eh?”
“Answer me, you scoundrel!” cried Sir Francis. “You heard what I said.”
“Eh? Hah, yes. What had I been a-doing—heigh—ho—hum! Oh, how sleepy I am! What had I been a-doing here? What I been doing, Mars Grant?”
“You were asleep,” I said on being appealed to; and I spoke angrily, for I was smarting under the accusation and suspicion of being a thief.
“Asleep!” cried Ike. “To be sure. That’s it. Asleep I was under the bushes there. Dropped right off.”
“You repeat your lesson well,” said Sir Francis. “Pray, go up to the house—to the library, you boys—you, sir, follow me.”
Courtenay and Philip went on in advance, Sir Francis followed, and we were bringing up the rear when Ike exclaimed in remonstrance:
“That ain’t fair, master. You ought to sep’rate them two or a nyste bit of a tale they’ll make up between them.”