“Like this?”
“Of course. It’s no worse for you than it is for me. Come along.”
Max felt as if he could not help himself, and, yielding to the pressure, he followed his young host out on to the terrace-like rock, where they were joined by Scoodrach, who came up with his eyes so wide open that they showed the whites all round.
As the red-headed lad came up, he essayed to speak, but only made an explosive sound.
“Look here, Scood, if you laugh, Max Blande will pitch you overboard. Now then, what is it?”
“Tonald—”
“Well, what about Donald?”
“She’s chust waitin’ for the young chentleman.”
“Where?”
“In ta castle yaird.”