“I told you,” I said sharply, for his doubt of my word made me feel hot and angry. “We only caught those two. I shouldn’t tell you a lie, sir.”
“Humph! Oh!” cried the old gentleman, looking at me searchingly, “you wouldn’t tell a lie about it, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course not,” I replied; “and we did not mean any harm, sir. We thought it would be good fun to come and catch some rabbits.”
“Oh, you did? Then I suppose it would be good fun to bring guns and come and shoot my pheasants. Perhaps you’d like to do that, eh?”
“I should,” said Mercer innocently.
“What!” roared the old gentleman. “Here, you two, take ’em both into scholastic custody, and tell Dr Browne I’m coming in the morning to put a stop to this sort of thing once and for all. Hopley, where’s that ferret?”
“Pocket, Sir Hawkus,” said the keeper bluntly.
“‘In—my—pocket,’ sir!” cried the old gentleman angrily. “I pay you wages, sir, as my servant, and I’ve a right to proper answers. Let’s see the ferret.”
The keeper took it out of the big pocket inside his velveteen jacket, and held it up, twisting and writhing to get free and down into one of the rabbit-holes.
“Throw it down and shoot it,” said the General.