Pan uttered a low moan, and shuffling his feet along the gravel, allowed himself to be led towards the gate.
Sydney shivered as he felt that he was approaching sentence.
“Is my father in the dining-room?”
“Yes, Master Sydney.—Here you, lift up them pretty hoofs o’ yours, will yer!”
“Is my uncle with him?”
“Yes, Master Syd.”
“Have they been trying to find us?”
“No, Master Syd. The skipper said as if you was such a young cur as to go and disgrace yourself like that ’ere by running away and desarting the King’s colours, he wouldn’t stir a step arter yer.”
“Oh!” groaned Sydney to himself. Then in a whisper, “What did my uncle say?”
“Said Amen to it, and that he’d been fool enough to give you the money to go with.”