Piece by piece she picked it up and buckled it on him, Carnaby during the somewhat irksome operation relieving his feelings by addressing various minatory remarks to the now discomfited Peckover. "You stir a foot, and I'll twist it off, my pigeon. You just mention we're here, and I'll pull your tongue out, my little magpie. So you'll play fast and loose—chrrr Lal, you're pinching me—fast and loose with my beautiful sister, will you? You just try it on, my chicken, and it will be the last article you ever do try on. I'll flatten you out, and then swab the floor with you."
With a running fire of such cheering announcements did Mr. Leo relieve the tedium of his process of adornment. At length the pieces of armour were fixed to him. There were absurd gaps in the covering; nevertheless, in the semi-darkness there was no manifest difference between him and the empty suits of mail.
"Now," directed Lalage, as she arranged him on a stand, "you stay there as still at you can. And you"—she turned to Peckover—"stir from the room if you dare. You just tell the young minx you won't have anything to do with her, and, if she poaches on other people's preserves there won't be much sport for her by this day week."
"Yes!" A husky voice filtered through the vizor of Carnaby's helmet, as he flourished the sword in his hand. "If you try fooling I'll cut your——"
"Hush!" Lalage commanded, as she drew back into the obscurity of a recess. "Some one coming."
"Nice evening this evening," muttered Peckover ruefully as the door softly opened.
CHAPTER XXIII
"Mr. Gage—Percy—are you there?"
"Yes, I'm here," was the lugubrious response.