But I felt sure she would manage it, and Peterkin was even surer than I.
The last thing she said was—
'Of course, I shall have very little luggage; not more than you two boys can easily carry between you.'
CHAPTER VIII
A TERRIBLE IDEA
That was on a Wednesday, and the same day the next week was to be the day. On the Monday, as we had planned, we strolled along Rock Terrace. Luckily, it was a fine day, and we could look well about us without appearing to have any particular reason for doing so. It would have seemed rather funny if we had been holding up umbrellas, or, I should say, if I had been, for when it rained Peterkin wasn't allowed to come to meet me.
We stood still in front of the parrot's house. He was out on the balcony. I wondered if he would notice us, or if he did, if he would condescend to speak to us.
Yes, I felt that his ugly round eyes—don't you think all parrots' eyes are ugly, however pretty their feathers are?—were fixed on us, and in a moment or two came his squeaky, croaky voice—