"To think that my wife is a bag," he said wearily. It was an autumn afternoon in the county of Devon. There were we staying at a retired farmhouse, fleeting the time carelessly, simply, healthily. Sickened by forty-eight hours of continuous rain, we had fastened greedily upon the chance which a glorious October day at length offered, and had set out, complete with sandwiches, for one of the longer walks. Daphne constituted herself guide. We never asked her to. But as such we just accepted her. We were quite passive in the matter. Going, she had guided us with a careless confidence which shamed suspicion. But coming back, she had early displayed unmistakable signs of hesitation and anxiety. Thereafter she had plunged desperately, with the result that at three o'clock we found ourselves reduced to a swine-herd who had been drinking. The latter detailed to us four several routes, and assured us that it was utterly impossible to miss any one of them. To put it quite shortly, he was mistaken. Within half an hour we had missed them all. Lost on a heath (which I have every reason to suppose was blasted) in a strange county, and not a soul in sight. That was the position. We plodded in silence across the meadow. "Didn't say anything about a bog, did he? said Berry, drawing his left leg out of some mire with a noise that made me shudder. Jill slid a warm arm into mine, and broke into long laughter. "Don't encourage the fool," said Daphne. We skirted the wood successfully to find that there never could have been a cart-track. Berry leaned against a wall of stones. "What a picture," he said ecstatically. "The setting sun, the little band, the matron and the maid, mist rising, shadows falling--subject for next year's Academy, 'The Walkers.'" "Idiot!" said Daphne shortly. "Do I hear aright?" said Berry. "I said 'idiot.'" Berry covered his face with his hat, and begged us to excuse his emotion. Daphne stamped her foot. "I have an idea," said I. "If it's one of your usual ones, we don't want it," said Daphne. "Thank you, dear. We are undoubtedly lost. No, that is not my idea. But, as a would-have-been boy-scout, I recognize in this spot a natural camping-place. That water is close at hand, we know from Scout Berry. Jonah can take the first watch, Berry the second, Jonah the third, and--and so on. My own energy I shall reserve for the dog-watch." "Oh, stop him, somebody," wailed Daphne. "I said dog-watch, dear, not stop-watch. Before we bivouac I will scale yon beetling mount if peradventure I may perceive one that will point us homeward. Scout Berry!" "Sir," said Berry. "You know your duties!" "I do that, sir." "Tis well. If the worst comes to the worst, kill the women out of hand, or with your own hand--I don't care which. Age before honesty, you know."