For, to start with, 'e's 'idin', an' 'tis only to keep 'im 'id that I got 'Ucks to let yer loose.
An' nex' 'e's a gentleman, and why you should want to mix 'im up with yer Shakespeares I can't think." It is doubtful if Mr.Mortimer heard the conclusion of her outburst.
At the mention of Mr.Hucks he pressed a palm dramatically to his forehead; and now, withdrawing it, he handed her the two slips of paper with great politeness.
"True, I had forgotten," he murmured.

"Take your time, child--you will take your time, I beg." He waved his hand, and withdrew to rejoin his wife on the cabin-top.
Tilda studied the slips of paper, while Arthur Miles edged away again towards the gunwale for another look into the magic water.
"Stop that!" she commanded, glancing up and catching him in the act.
"Stop that, and read these for me: I can't manage handwriting." The boy took the first slip obediently and read aloud-- "_Madam, a horseman comes riding across the hill.

The sun flashes full on his arms.

By my halidame 'tis the Knight Hospitaller!_" "That seems pretty fair rot," criticised Tilda.

"Let's 'ave the other." "_ Madam, he has reined up his steed.