dear Mr. Campbell," as her mother called him, in "a most touching and
strengthening" discourse he delivered from the pulpit on the subject. If
Binny were naughty--and Binny _was_ naughty beyond all hope of
redemption, according to the books; there could be no doubt about that,
for he not only committed one, but each and every sin sufficient in itself
for condemnation, all in one day, too, when he could, and twice over if
there were time. He disobeyed orders. He fought cads. He stole apples. He
told lies--in fact, he preferred to tell lies; truth had no charm for him.
And all these things he was in the habit of doing regularly to the best of
his ability when he was "cut off"; and how such an end could be all for
the best, if the wicked must perish, and it is not good to perish, was the
puzzle. There was something she could not grasp of a contradictory nature
in it all that tormented her. The doctrine of Purgatory might have been a
help, but she had not heard of it.

She told the twins the story of Binny's sad end once in the orthodox way,
as a warning, but the warning was the only part of it which failed to
impress them. "And do you know," she said solemnly, "there were some green
apples found in his pockets after he was dead, actually!"

"What a pity!" Diavolo exclaimed. If they had been found in his stomach it
would have been so much more satisfactory. "How did he get the apples? Off
the tree or out of the storeroom?"

"I don't know," said Evadne.

"They wouldn't have green apples in the storeroom," Angelica thought.

"Oh, yes, they might," Diavolo considered. "Those big cooking fellows, you
know--they're green enough."