The Professor looked down the line of his companions. "What is the sense of the Committee on this proposal?" said he. "Ah. Very good. We are agreed. Proceed, my dear sir."
"One minute," said Aunt Amanda. "Excuse my asking, but I should like to know who you are, anyway."
The Professor waved a fat hand towards his companions, and looking at Aunt Amanda, said:
"We belong, madam, to the Society for Piratical Research, under the patronage of his gracious Majesty, the King of this Island. You behold before you a committee of that Society; the Committee on Doubtful and Fabulous Tales, sometimes called for the sake of brevity, from the initials of its title, the Daft Committee. As Third Vice-President of the Society for Piratical Research, I have the honour to be Chairman of the Daft Committee. The seat of our Society is
far from here, in the principal city of this kingdom, the famous City of Towers, blest as the residence of his gracious Majesty, the most learned and liberal of princes. Our camp, which we made only late this evening, lies at no great distance from this spot. We did not wish to delay our researches until morning, and so, as Third Vice-President of the Society for Piratical Research, and Chairman of the Daft Committee, I—"
"Much obliged," said Toby. "We've no time to listen to any more. We must get on."
The Daft Committee, led by the Third Vice-President, fell in behind the mules, and the whole party moved forward, as rapidly as the mules and the committee could walk.
Aunt Amanda felt far from easy at the prospect of entering Low Dudgeon; but she had told Toby something of Ketch's strange words and manner regarding that place, and she was glad to leave the responsibility to him. Their dark and silent progress through the forest continued, and when they had gone what they thought must have been about half a mile, they knew they must be near their destination. Every eye was watchful and every ear was alert. A grunt from Toby in advance notified the others that they had arrived, and they filed out of the forest into the clearing, and saw before them the squat tower of Low Dudgeon in the moonlight.
The same light as before appeared from within, through the upper slits in the side of the tower. As they drew in their mules at the edge of the clearing, the Daft Committee came up, and the Third Vice-President spoke in a low voice.
"I presume," he said, "that this is Low Dudgeon. I have heard of it, but I have never seen it. It was formerly, some hundred years ago, the headquarters of the pirates. But something occurred here, I do