“Real good pitch, sir, same as they pays over the bottoms of their boats.”
“Oh, but surely that isn’t necessary,” cried Waller angrily.
“He’s right,” said Godfrey, as he began to rub the sticky brown produce of the fir well over his hands and face. “It’s the best disguise I could assume.”
“Hist!” said Waller. “Didn’t I hear something?”
Bunny turned to the window, looked out cautiously, and drew in his head again.
“They’ve come,” he whispered. “Now sir, can’t you get us down to the back door, so that we can slip away at once?”
“No,” said Waller excitedly. “We should have to cross the hall, and they’d be there.”
“I’m all right,” said Bunny. “I can slip down easier than I got up. What about this here young gentleman? He won’t find it so easy with that there canvas on.”
“No,” cried Waller. “He couldn’t get down. I don’t believe I could. What in the world are we to do?”
“Ar’n’t got a bit of rope, I suppose, sir?” whispered Bunny.