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He turned to
Errington.
"Is this true? You came here on purpose, knowing the ground was private
property?"
Errington, in his turn, lifted his cap from his clustering brown curls
with that serene and stately court manner which was to him second
nature.
"We did," he confessed, quietly following Lorimer's cue, and seeing also
that it was best to be straightforward. "We heard you spoken of in
Bosekop, and we came to see if you would permit us the honor of your
acquaintance."
The old man struck his pine-staff violently into the ground, and his
face flushed wrathfully.
"Bosekop!" he exclaimed. "Talk to me of a wasp's nest! Bosekop! You
shall hear of me there enough to satisfy your appetite for news.
Bosekop! In the days when my race ruled the land, such people as they
that dwell there would have been put to sharpen my sword on the
grindstone, or to wait, hungry and humble, for the refuse of the food
left from my table!"
He spoke with extraordinary heat and passion,--it was evidently
necessary to soothe him.


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