'Hallo! hallo!' roared Antony. 'What on earth'——
Then, remembering where he was, he jumped out of bed, flew through the saloon, and opened the back-door.
A great, fat young face beamed up at him from the foot of the steps like a setting sun.
'It's only me, sir. It's only Chops, come for your boots, sir.'
'Here you are, Chops lad. But mind you don't black these; they're patent leather.'
'Lo'd love ye, sir, I knows to a nicety. I never does black patenters. Only just spits on 'em, sir. Back presently, sir, wi' your cup o' tea.'
The figure retreated, taking the fat face and the patent leather boots with it, and Frank Antony Blake yawned a bit and then proceeded to dress, wondering to himself what pleasure, if any, the coming day might bring him.
CHAPTER IV.
'EVER BEEN AN INFANT PRODIGY?' SAID LOTTY.
BUT the boy Chops returned almost immediately. 'Which I told Skeleton,' he said touching his forelock with his left hand by way of salute, 'to bring yer a cup o' nice tea, sir, an' breakfus is at eight; an' I brought ye these, as I doesn't like to see a gent in 'is stockin'-soles like, an' mayblins ye 'asn't got another pair o' shoes to yer name. These will fit, sir, I thinks, thinks I.'
Antony had been standing in the back-door of the caravan, looking out upon the brightness of a beautiful morning and the sunlight on the sea.