Tell me instantly."
When I was a very little girl I knew an old woman who told me that if a
person was really good at heart, the holy angels would allow that
person, in the course of her life, twelve fibs without charge, provided
they was told for the good of somebody and not to do harm. Now at
such a moment as this I could not remember how many fibs of that kind I
had left over to my credit, but I knew there must be at least one, and
so I didn't hesitate a second. "They have gone to the Cat and Fiddle,"
said I. "I heard them tell their bath-chair men so, as they urged them
forward at the top of their speed. They stopped for a second here, sir,
and I heard the gentleman send a cabman for a clergyman, post haste, to
meet them at the Cat and Fiddle."
[Illustration: TO THE CAT AND FIDDLE]
If the sky had been lighted up by the eruption of Snortfrizzle's nose I
should not have been surprised.
"The fools! They can't! Cat and Fiddle! But they can't be half way
there. Martin, to the Cat and Fiddle!"
The man touched his hat. "But I couldn't do that, sir. I couldn't run
to the Cat and Fiddle. It's long miles, sir. Shall I get a carriage?"
"Carriage!" cried the old man, and then he began to look about him.
