her where to find their purses, so that they need not arouse
suspicion by visiting their dormitories in a body.

"We'll be lighting the fire while you get the prog," they assured her.

So Wendy departed on her foraging expedition, collected the necessary
funds after much hunting in various drawers and coat pockets, hurried to
the orchard, and climbed the fence. Freddie Entwistle was still steadily
engaged in the rural occupation of ridding his father's field of
superfluous stones, but he kept an eye on the horizon, and at the sight
of Wendy's beckoning finger he flung duty to the winds.

"D'you want me?" he grinned, as he came panting across the newly
ploughed earth.

"Yes," said his siren sweetly. "I want you badly. Will you go to the
village and buy something for me?"

"I don't mind. What shall I get?"

"Half a pound of biscuits and something to fry."

"Bacon?" suggested her swain laconically.

"N-n-no. We had bacon for breakfast."

"Kippers or ham?"

"I don't think kippers; but really it must be anything you can get.
Here's the money. If there's any change, take it out in sweets."

"Right you are! I'll be as sharp as I can."

"It's something to have a knight-errant who's prepared to relieve a
maiden in distress," reflected Wendy, seating herself on the fence to
await the return of her chivalrous squire.

He came back in course of time with his pockets bulging with parcels,
evidently very proud of himself for having executed his lady's commands.
Her thanks and a commission of sweets left him radiant. He returned to
his stone-picking, living in a dream.

The party on the island received Wendy with enthusiasm. The fire was
burning beautifully in the bucket, the tin had been scoured with sand
and well washed, large ivy leaves had been picked to serve as plates,
and the company had their penknives ready.

"It's sausages!" exclaimed Wendy, opening one of the parcels; "and he's
actually bought some lard to fry them in. What a brain--and only twelve!
That boy'll be a general some day, if he doesn't die of over-cleverness.
Biscuits to eat with them, my children, and some chocs. for dessert. I
beg to propose that we accord a hearty vote of thanks to Freddie
Entwistle."

"For he's a jolly good fellow!
For he's a jolly good fellow!"

began Jess; but Diana promptly squashed her.

"Stop that noise! D'you want to give the whole show away, and have
Lennie, and Nora, and Betty, and all the rest of the kids