"Do what?" enquired Bindle from where he knelt beside the damaged Mr. Gupperduck.
"Give him that," said Mrs. Bindle, "he's temperance."
"Well, 'e ain't now," remarked Bindle with calm conviction.
"Oh, you villain!" The vindictiveness of Mrs. Bindle's tone caused the three listeners to look up, and even Mr. Gupperduck's eyelids, after a preliminary flutter, raised themselves, as he gazed about him wonderingly.
"Where am I?" he moaned.
"You're all right," said Mrs. Bindle, taking Bindle's place by Mr. Gupperduck's side. "You're safe now."
Mr. Gupperduck closed his eyes again, and Mrs. Bindle proceeded to wipe his face with a piece of flannel dipped in water.
"Pore ole Guppy!" murmured Bindle. "They done it in style any'ow. I wonder wot 'e's been up to. Must 'ave been sayin' things wot they didn't like. Wot was 'e talkin' about, ole sport?"
Bindle turned to the man with the sandy beard, who was sitting on a chair leaning forward with one hand on each knee, much as if he were watching a cock-fight.
"It was a Peace meeting," replied the man mournfully.