Peckover felt somewhat uncomfortable when the visitors were announced. In his exuberance in making the most of a sham rescue he had overlooked the spectators, or at least had regarded them as negligible factors in the episode. After a few words of disingenuous congratulation, Mr. Fanning came to the point. He and Mr. Purvis had seen it stated, doubtless correctly, in the local paper that Mr. Gage had in his gratitude, etc., rewarded his purported rescuer in more than princely fashion. And Mr. Fanning and Mr. Purvis, whilst not withholding their meed of admiration from his lordship, whose illness they deplored, and who had, they generously admitted, done the best he could, were anxious to know where they came in, and could only say that it was hard for them to express in words their joint and several disappointment at being mentioned in connexion with the affair only in the roles of casual spectators. Whereas, Mr. Fanning urged with a suggestion of latent heat, it was they who brought the accident to its comparatively happy termination; but for them and the parts they played, he, Mr. Fanning, did not think they would that day be having the pleasure of addressing Mr. Gage, or at any rate he, Mr. Gage, the advantage of being in a position to listen to them; the depressing inference being obvious. As Peckover had by this time come to take a more comfortable and even jocular view of the affair, he was not inclined to give more notice to the claim than seeing in it evidence that the bogus rescue had deceived its witnesses. Moreover, as a Cockney, he had not much opinion of or consideration for the feelings of a farmer and a country butcher. "Oh, I don't think you did much," he replied off-handedly. "Begging your pardon, sir," Mr. Fanning maintained, "we did everything, if the lives of yourself and his lordship count for anything." "You didn't risk your lives," Peckover argued. "We did, begging your pardon, sir." "What, in three feet six inches of water?" "How," urged Mr. Fanning, "were we to know the depth? We were prepared to go much deeper." "I dare say," returned Peckover incredulously. "But as you didn't that doesn't come into the account. You did a lot of shouting, I admit, and nearly knocked my head off by flinging that infernal oar at me as though you thought you were harpooning a whale. Well, what do you want?" Mr. Fanning's face was lowering, and that of Mr. Purvis was overspread by a foolish grin of disappointment. Certainly matters were not turning out as they had anticipated on their walk to the Towers. They were being rudely awakened from their dreams of returning to their respective homes rich men.