t."

"Nonsense--why?"

"I should leave half my toggery behind."

"You wouldn't: come along. Take my hands."

Macey took hold of his companion's hands, there was a bit of a struggle,
and he stood bemoaning his injuries; which consisted of pricks and
scratches, and a number of thorns buried deeply beneath his clothes.

"Nice place this is," he said dolefully.

"Lovely place for botanists," said Vane, merrily.

"Then I'm thankful I'm not a botanist."

"Where are the others?" asked Vane.

"I don't know. Distin wanted to lie down in the shade as soon as we
reached the edge of the wood, and Gil wouldn't leave him, out of
civility."

"Then you didn't come rabbit-shooting?"

"Rabbit-grandmothering! We only came for a walk, and of course I didn't
want to sit down and listen to Distin run down England and puff the West
Indies, so I wandered off into the wood and lost myself."

"What, there too?"

"Yes, and spent my time thinking about you."

"What! Because you wanted me to act as guide?"

"No, I didn't: it was because I got into a part where the oak trees and
fir trees were open, and there was plenty of grass. And there I kept on
finding no end of toadstools such as you delight in devouring."

"Ah!" exclaimed Vane eagerly. "Where was it?"

"Oh, you couldn't find the place again. I couldn't, but there were such
big ones; and what do you think I said?"

"How should I know?" said Vane, trampling down the brambles, so as to
make the way easier for his companion.

"I said I wish the nasty pig was here, and he could feast for a month."

"Thank you," said Vane. "I don't care. I can only pity ignorant
people. But whereabouts did you leave Gil and Distin?"

"I don't know, I tell you. Under an oak tree."

"Yes, but which?"

"Oh, somewhere. I had a pretty job to find my way out, and I didn't
till I had picked out a great beech tree to sleep in to-night, and began
thinking of collecting acorns for food."

"Why didn't you shout?"

"I did, till I was so hoarse I got down to a whisper. Oh, I say, why
did you let that bit of furze fly back?"

"Couldn't help it."

"I'm getting sick of Greythorpe. No police to ask your way, no gas
lamps, no cabs."

"None at all. It's a glorious place, isn't it, Aleck?"

"Well, I suppose it is when you know your way, and are not being pricked
with thorns."

"Ah, you're getting better," cried Vane. "What shall we do--go back
alone, or try and find them?"

"Go