Cyril spoke with awe of John Brown's big hands and feet, and looked over his shoulder as he spoke. For that small hope of the Bruces had in the cloak-room inadvertently trodden upon Brown's hat, and had been startled by the way in which Brown had swung him round by his collar.
"I pinched him," said Betty proudly. "He shouldn't have gone above me. I'll pinch him every time."
Her sun-bonnet was tucked away under her arm, her boots and stockings were in the family lunch-basket that she carried, boy-like, swung over her shoulder, and she covered the ground most of the time with a hop, skip, and a jump, aided by a long stout stick.
"I suppose," she said, "we'll have to try the dangerous little coral islands this time. I know that's where the black pearl is hidden."
"Oh dear," sighed Nancy, "I don't like curral islands a bit. Let's go home to-day."
"Silly!" said Cyril loftily. "We've got to find the black pearl somehow."
"It'll be worth hundreds and thousands of pounds," said Elizabeth. "Just think of taking that to mother, just think of all we could do. It wouldn't matter then grandfather not speaking. We could drive past him in our carriage then! Come on my lass." This last was to Nancy.
"I want to go in the water, too, Betty," said the small lassie, following at a trot. "Don't want to be your old wife. I've been your wife for a lot of days now."
"I don't know who you mean when you say Betty," declared Elizabeth, and leapt forward so far that the other two had to sharpen their pace suddenly.
"Peter Lucky," said Nancy imploringly. "Oh, Peter Lucky, let Cywil be your wife a bit—do."