Chapter XXIII The Littlest of the Hostages

* * * * * “There!” said Cradock, bringing the punt alongside, with a dexterous flick of his paddle. “How’s that for an ancient mariner?” That small but determined hero-worshipper, Molly Cradock, buttressed about with many cushions at the other end of the punt, gave a little wriggle of pure ecstasy. “Splendid!” she said. “I’m so sorry our voyage is over. Shall we go into the house, or will you sit here and tell me some more?” “I don’t think we’ll go into the house,” said Cradock. “I’m com…