“I forgot. I went myself,” he said. “Of course. But I couldn’t find the bellows. You haven’t taken them, have you?”
“No,” I said gently, thinking that he was wandering in his mind.
“How tiresome! That water wants aerating badly.”
“Bellers, sir?” growled Dumlow, who was looking on; “I took ’em to make the kittle bile, and didn’t have no time to put ’em back ’cause of the boats coming.”
“Ah, the boats,” cried Mr Preddle, excitedly. “Jarette knocked me down.”
“And he got knocked down hisself, sir. Reg’lar one for his nob,” said Dumlow.
“Then we won, Dale?”
“Oh yes, we’ve won,” I cried, “and the boats are a couple of miles away.”
“Let me examine your head again,” said Mr Frewen.
“What, for that!” cried the naturalist. “Oh, it’s nothing—makes me feel a little giddy and headachy, that’s all. But I think I’ll go and sit out of the sun for a bit. Why, we’re sailing again.”