“Yes,” said Phoena, “but we want quality, not quantity.”
But though the boys applauded this remark, they nevertheless felt that there was something, too, to be said for Di’s argument.
“Go on, you girls,” said Jack, “we must discuss this by ourselves.”
“I do wonder how they’ll settle it,” said Fay, who was sorely divided in her mind as to which course would prove best to produce peace and concord. She would have been far more troubled had she guessed the resolution regarding the punishment to be inflicted on Andrew which had been decided upon.
“The execution of the sentence must take place after dinner,” Jack had ruled, “and in the meanwhile none of us must cast so much as a single glance at the renegade knight, commonly known as Andrew Durand.”
And so rigorously did they all obey this command, that when after dinner all the boys disappeared, leaving Andrew alone, he was so tired of being sent to Coventry, that he quite hailed Hubert’s return as the bearer of a formal citation. This was to summon him to appear before his co-knights to answer certain charges against him.
“What do you mean, you little donkey?” cried Andrew, impatiently, as Hubert was conscientiously but laboriously delivering himself of his errand, “I was just going out butterfly hunting, and I can’t stop here for ever listening to your rotten message.”
“You’ve got to come down to the river-meadow,” said Hubert, punctuating each word with a nod of his head, “and if you don’t come dreckly they’ll come and fetch you.”
“I shall come when it suits me,” was Andrew’s reply.
“He’s trying to be cock-lofty,” was Hubert’s report to those who sent him, “but I believe he is coming all the same.”