“We would, of course,” said Edward.
“Then, come close to me and I’ll tell ye,” whispered the loquacious being, who, it was plain, was bursting with her news. “Tweedledum is in a great rage and no mistakes, and he’s going to Ireland.”
Only Nancy did not smile at this piece of interesting information.
“Indeed,” said Edward Bacon, “how very interesting. We must be going. Don’t disturb yourself, Madam, we’ll just leave the way we came in, by the open front door. Good day.”
They hastened from the villa just as the last rays of the setting sun gleamed through a bank of clouds.
“Mad as a March hare,” Nancy heard one of the students say.
“She has fatty degeneration of the brain, I suppose,” said another.
Then they all laughed.
“It was a jolly good joke on us, just the same, to excite our curiosity and tell us that Tweedledum had gone to Ireland! By Jove, but that’s a thrilling bit of news,” exclaimed Edward Bacon.
They turned over the boat to drain it out, and once more embarked on the little river.