“To-night! Nonsense!” cried Waller. “They have gone right away—to Chichester, I think.”
“Maybe they went, sir, but it warn’t to Chichester; it was to Christchurch; and Tony Gusset got hold of something, and he’s gone after them, and some one I know telled me they were coming here to-night, and don’t mean to be put off this time.”
“Then I must go at once,” cried Godfrey excitedly.
“That’s right, sir,” said Bunny. “I brought you some things as will make you look like a fisher-lad when I have done with you. Can you slip them on in the dark?”
“Oh, yes, of course he can,” cried Waller. “I will help him.”
“The sooner the better, then, sir,” whispered the man, and, busying himself with the knots in a great cotton handkerchief, he soon shook out a big, broad, canvas petticoat, such as the fishers use, sewed right up the middle so as to give it the semblance of a clumsy pair of trousers.
Godfrey winced a little as he handled the stiff garment; but it was for liberty, and he soon had the canvas buttoned on.
“You had better take off that jacket, sir. I can’t see it, but I can feel as it don’t look a bit like a fisher-boy’s things. That’s your sort! Now then, Master Waller, pull that there jersey over his head. That’s the way. There, now, he feels like a regular sailor-lad. Here’s a sou’-wester, too. It’s rather an old un, but none the worse for that. There you are. Now then, I have got a bit of a pot here. You hold your hands, and I’ll fish out a dob of it with my knife. Then you give it a good rub round with your hands so as to go all over them, and then you can gorm them well over your face. Don’t be afraid of it, sir. It’ll make you look every bit a sailor, and won’t wash off in a month.”
Godfrey drew in his breath with a hiss.
“Why, what is it, Bunny?” said Waller.