"Very well: Mr. Sperry, Mr. Daddleskink."
She pronounced the abominable syllables quite composedly. But upon Mr. Sperry they produced an immediate effect.
"Wha-at!" he cried with a broad grin. "What's the name?"
"Daddleskink," explained the Tyro mildly. "An umlaut over the K, and the final Z silent as in 'buzz.'"
"Daddleskink," repeated the other. "Daddle—Haw! haw! haw!!"
"Cut it, Diddy!" admonished young Journay, giving him a surreptitious dig in the ribs. "Your work is coarse."
Temporarily the trouble-seeker subsided, but presently above the conversation, which had again become general, his cackling voice was heard inquiring from Judge Enderby:—
"Say, Judge, how do you catch a diddleskink? Haw—haw—haw!"
This was rather further than the Empress intended that reprisals for lèse-majesté should go. Still, she was curious to see how her strange acquaintance would bear himself under the test. She watched him from the corner of an observant eye. Would he be disconcerted by the brusqueness of the attack? Would he lose his temper? Would he cheapen himself to answer in kind? What would he do or say?
Habituation to a rough, quick-action life had taught the Tyro to keep his wits, his temper, and his speech. No sign indicated that he had heard the offensive query. He stood quietly at ease, listening to some comments of Lord Guenn on the European situation. Judge Enderby, however, looked the questioner up and down with a disparaging regard and snorted briefly. Feeling himself successful thus far, Sperry turned from a flank to a direct onset.