"It is certainly well to be experienced in these matters," said Mrs. Ewart-Crane, lowering herself to the ground.
"It was quite easy," said Bessie, busying herself with the pot. "When Pringle and I came to look into things, we found that there were preserved meats and preserved vegetables; so it seemed to me that we might have a sort of stew. It's a little mixed—but I think it's nice. Pringle—the plates, please."
"Certainly, Miss," responded Pringle, and instantly produced, as if from the result of a conjuring trick, half a dozen battered old tin plates.
"This is wonderful—and most comfortable," said Mr. Edward Stocker.
"They took a bit of cleanin', sir," explained Pringle. "I found 'em under some of the rubbish in the hut—likewise a knife and fork and a big spoon. The big spoon's in the pot—and the knife and fork I suppose ought to be handed to one of the ladies."
"I have never eaten with my fingers yet—not even in the matter of asparagus," said Mrs. Ewart-Crane instantly.
"Then it's no use your makin' a start at this time of day—is it, ma'am?" responded Pringle, handing over the knife and fork to her with much politeness. "It's a three-pronger, ma'am—but still a fork's a fork."
The steaming food was handed out—Pringle deftly holding the battered tin plates to be filled. The little company was so ravenously hungry that even with that limited number of plates there was not much waiting, nor did it seem to be considered necessary that the plates should be washed for a newcomer. Mrs. Ewart-Crane ate with some elegance, and in a grim silence; the others used their fingers, and laughed a little among themselves at the strange meal. Then, when it was all over, and Pringle had collected the plates, and had taken away the cooking-pot, the men gathered about the fire—or what was left of it—and sat there on the ground, sharing what tobacco they had, contentedly enough. Mr. Tant did not smoke; he sat in a glum silence, staring into the dying fire.
Gradually the fire burnt itself out; but by that time the men had made their several arrangements for sleep. Mr. Tant and Daniel Meggison and Simon Quarle lay down near the hut in a sheltered place, and seemed to fall asleep in a few minutes; Gilbert and Stocker and Aubrey remained by the fire. Presently they too stretched themselves for slumber; at the last, Gilbert Byfield, hearing the murmur of the waves in the distance, thought sleepily how strange it was that he should have been brought to this place, and in such company; wondered, without any real uneasiness, what was to become of them all. A figure stealing towards him in the darkness roused him; and he raised himself on one elbow, to find Pringle bending respectfully over him.
"Anything I can do for you, sir?" asked Pringle, in a whisper.