There was a dead silence in the boat, during which Kenneth and Scood exchanged glances, and their tired companion clutched the seat more tightly.
“I say, your name’s Blande, isn’t it?” said Kenneth suddenly.
“Yes; Maximilian—I mean Max Blande.”
“And you are going to stay with us?”
“I suppose so.”
The lad gave his tormentor a wistful look, but it had no effect.
“Long?”
“I don’t know. My father said I was to come down here. Is it much farther on?”
“Oh yes, miles and miles yet. We shall soon show you the Grey Mare’s Tail now.”
“Couldn’t we walk the rest of the way, then?”