"It's always the way with the ladies, sir—bless 'em!" he replied cheerfully. "My poor old mother never could get on with the next-door neighbour, sir—no matter whether we lived in a small and humble way—or whether we was in what you might call the mansions of the great; mother being a caretaker, sir, and rather a good caretaker at that. Of course it isn't to be expected that a lady of the stiffness of Mrs. Crane should wish to lay herself down in the presence of people she doesn't really know; so I'll rig a sail up, sir, across the middle, and they can toss for sides if they can't decide any other way, sir. Leave it to me, sir; if you'll excuse the liberty, sir, I may say I know their little failings—an' I know just how to humour them, sir."
So the sail was rigged up, and Mrs. Stocker and Bessie took possession of one side of the hut, while Mrs. Ewart-Crane and Enid occupied the other. Pringle had collected brushwood and dried grasses, and had made two very respectable beds; the moon, when it came to the hour for retiring, was fine and fair above them, and the night was warm.
But before that there had come another great surprise, in the form of an impromptu supper. Certain provisions had been served out during the day, in a promiscuous fashion, by Pringle; but now, when everyone was gathered about the hut, the final preparations were being made, and "good nights" being said, Pringle appeared with something of a flickering smile about his face, and made a startling announcement.
"Ladies and gentlemen—supper is served!"
"Look here, my man—a joke is a joke—but pray remember your place, and don't carry a joke too far," said Daniel Meggison sternly. "Remember who you are—and take yourself off."
"This way, if you please, sir," said Pringle, taking not the faintest notice of Daniel Meggison. "Not far, sir—just round the corner, as you might say."
He led the way, and the others followed wonderingly. Presently they came to a little clearing, sheltered by the hill that rose behind it; and in that clearing was a fire upon the ground, and over the fire was propped the old cooking-pot that had been discovered in the hut. Bessie was bending over the cooking-pot, and from it there wafted to the hungry little company an appetizing odour.
"By Jove!—this is capital," exclaimed Gilbert. "We can sit round here in gipsy fashion, and enjoy it. Pringle—this is really clever of you."
"I see no necessity for my daughter to be occupied in a menial office," said Mr. Daniel Meggison stiffly. "After all, there are certain decencies to be observed, even in this place."
"Not me, sir—nothing to do with me, sir," said Pringle, answering Gilbert Byfield. "I certainly did gather the sticks for the fire—but that's about all, sir. The cooking idea wasn't mine at all; I doubt if I could have done it. Miss Meggison, sir, is the lady who's saved our lives, as you might say, sir, to-night."