“And the stone ran along tinkling over the top of the water,” said Norah, recovering. “I never was so taken aback in my life. And all the small children and their nursemaids laughed at me. How was I to know water turned to ice like that? The only frozen thing I had ever seen was ice-cream in Melbourne!” “Billy never saw ice in his life,” said her father. “He would have thought it very bad magic.” “He’d have taken to his heels and made for the bush,” said Wally, grinning. “Probably he’d have made himself a boomerang and turned into an up-to-date black Robin Hood, living on those tame old Bushy Park deer.” “With his headquarters in the Hampton Court Maze!” added Jim. “Wouldn’t it have been an enormous attraction—the halfpenny papers would have called it ‘Wild Life in Quiet Places,’ and London would have run special motor-bus trips to see our Billy!” His laugh ended in a fit of coughing, which left him trembling. Norah patted him anxiously, watching him with troubled eyes. “Don’t you talk too much, or we’ll get sent away,” she warned him. “We’ll do the talking—dad and I. We’ve heaps to tell you: and such jolly plans.” “You have to make haste and get better,” said Mr. Linton, looking from one white face to the other. “Then we’re going to take possession of you.” “Kitchener will do that, I guess,” said Wally. “No, Kitchener won—not until you’re quite fit. You’ll be handed over to us, and it will be our job to get you thoroughly well. And Norah and I have agreed that it can’t be done in London.” “So we’re all going to Ireland,” said Norah, happily. “Ireland!” Jim uttered. “Yes. You’re sure to get leave, so that you can be thoroughly repaired. We’re going to find some jolly place in Donegal, where it’s quiet and peaceful, and we’re all going to buy rods and find out how to catch trout. Brown trout,” said Norah, learnedly. “We know all about it, because we bought ever so many guide-books and studied them all last night.” “I say!” ejaculated both patients as one man. “It sounds rather like Heaven,” said Jim, drawing a long breath. “Do you really think it can be managed, dad?” “I don’t see why not,” said his father. “We must get back to our job as soon as we can.” “Certainly you must. But there’s no sense in your going back until you are perfectly fit. They wouldn’t want you. And though you were not as badly gassed as many—thank goodness!—and your recovery won’t be such a trying matter as if you had had a bigger dose, every one agrees that gas takes its time.” “I shouldn’t wonder,” Jim said, grimly.