I did not know then, what now I know, that my little boy who could not
learn his lessons and had always been in disgrace, was a born gentleman,
but my throat was thick and my eyes were swimming and to hide my emotion
I pretended to be ill.

"I know," said Martin. "Dizzingtory! [dysentery]. We allus has
dizzingtory when we're out asploring."

There was one infallible cure for that, though--milk!

"I allus drinks a drink of milk, and away goes the dizzingtory in a
jiffy."

This recalled the bottle, but when I twisted it round on my belt, hoping
to make amends for the lost biscuit, I found to my confusion that it had
suffered from the same misadventure, being cracked in the bottom, and
every drop of the contents gone.

That was the last straw, and the tears leapt to my eyes, but Martin went
on whistling and singing and ringing the big bell as if nothing had
happened.

The darkness deepened, the breath of night came sweeping over the sea,
the boom of the billows on the rock became still more terrible, and I
began to shiver.

"The sack!" cried Martin. "We allus sleeps in sacks when we're out
asploring."

I let him do what he liked with me now, but when he had packed me up in