“It is my father you are speaking of,” she said, her head very high, her tone haughty, “and I cannot tell where your amusement is.  Is my father here, or did I hear you say he had gone away?”

Two of the men looked foolish, the third took off his cap.

“I am sorry you should have overheard us, Miss Woolcot,” he said pleasantly.  “Still, there is no irreparable harm done, is there?  Yes, your father has gone away in a cab.  He couldn’t imagine how the little boy carne on his bed, and, as he couldn’t keep him here very well, I suppose he has taken him home.”

Something like a look of shame came into Judy’s bright eyes,

“I am afraid I must have put my father to some inconvenience,” she said quietly.  “It was I who left the Gen—­my brother here, because I didn’t know what to do with him for an hour or two.  But I quite meant to take him home myself.  Has he been gone long?”

“About half an hour,” the officer said, and tried not to look amused at the little girl’s old-fashioned manner.

“Ah, thank you.  Perhaps we can catch him up.  Come on, Pip,” and, nodding in a grave, distant manner, she turned away, and went down the veranda and through the gate with her brother.

“A nice hole we’re in,” he said.

Judy nodded.

“It’s about the very awfullest thing we’ve ever done in our lives.  Fancy the governor carting that child all the way from here!  Oh, lor’!”

Judy nodded again.

“Can’t you speak?” he said irritably.  “You’ve got us into this—­ I didn’t want to do it; but I’ll stand by you, of course.  Only you’ll have to think of something quick.”

Judy bit three finger-tips off her right-hand glove, and looked melancholy.

“There’s absolutely nothing to do, Pip,” she said slowly.  “I didn’t think it would turn out like this.  I suppose we’d better just go straight back and hand ourselves over for punishment.  He’ll be too angry to hear any sort of an excuse, so we’d better just grin and hear whatever he does to us.  I’m really sorry, too, that I made a laughing-stock of him up there.”

Pip was explosive.  He called her a little ass and a gowk and a stupid idiot for doing such a thing, and she did not reproach him or answer back once.

They caught a tram and went into Sydney, and afterwards to the boat.  They ensconced themselves in a corner at the far end, and discussed the state of affairs with much seriousness.  Then Pip got up and, strolled about a little to relieve his feelings, coming back in a second with a white, scared face.

“He’s on the boat,” he said, in a horrified whisper.

“Where-where—­where? what—­what—­what?” Judy cried, unintentionally mimicking a long-buried monarch.

“In the cabin, looking as glum as a boiled wallaby, and hanging on to the poor little General as if he thinks he’ll fly away.”

Judy looked a little frightened for the first time.  “Can’t we hide?  Don’t let him see us.  It wouldn’t be any good offering to take the General now.  We’re in for it now, Pip—­there’ll be no quarter.”