CHAPTER VIII
THE HEN-HOUSE
I was half an hour at least in the society of these distressing bipeds, and alone with my own reflections and necessities. I was in great pain of my flayed hands, and had nothing to treat them with; I was hungry and thirsty, and had nothing to eat or to drink; I was thoroughly tired, and there was no place for me to sit. To be sure there was the floor, but nothing could be imagined less inviting.
At the sound of approaching footsteps, my good-humour was restored. The key rattled in the lock, and Master Ronald entered, closed the door behind him, and leaned his back to it.
"I say, you know!" he said, and shook a sullen young head.
"I know it*s a liberty," said I.
"It's infernally awkward; my position is infernally embarrassing," said he.
"Well," said I, "and what do you think of mine?"
This seemed to pose him entirely, and he remained gazing upon me with a convincing air of youth and innocence. I could have laughed, but I was not so inhumane.
"I am in your hands," said I, with a little gesture "You must do with me what you think right."
"Ah, yes!" he cried: "if I knew!"
"You see," said I, "it would be different if you had re-
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