"It will amuse you immensely. And I am sure that you would never guess what it is going to talk about."
"What then?"
"Oh, I won't tell you. You shall hear. Let us have these chairs by the open door; it is so nice and cool."
The company had formed an expectant circle round the instrument. There was a subdued hush as Rupert Esdaile made the connection, while his mother waved her white hand slowly from left to right to mark the cadence of the sonorous address which was to break upon their ears.
"How about Lucy Araminta Pennyfeather?" cried a squeaky little voice. There was a rustle and a titter among the audience. Rupert glanced across at Captain Beesly. He saw a drooping jaw, two protruding eyes, and a face the colour of cheese.
"WHO WAS IT WHO HID THE ACE?"
"How about little Martha Hovedean of the Kensal Choir Union?" cried the piping voice.
Louder still rose the titters. Mrs. Esdaile stared about her in bewilderment. Rose burst out laughing, and the Captain's jaw drooped lower still, with a tinge of green upon the cheese-like face.
"Who was it who hid the ace in the artillery card-room at Peshawur? Who was it who was broke in consequence? Who was it——?"