CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The Crown
“W
hat
do you think of it?” enquired Amanda.
Her brother, who was squatting among the reeds that fringed the millpool, peered down at the boat hidden so cunningly among the bushes before replying.
“It’s not at all bad,” he admitted. “Who fixed it up?”
“Scatty and I. It’s all part of the scheme. I’m afraid you’ve got to trust me for an hour or two longer, though.”
“I haven’t trusted you for a minute yet,” he observed drily, his eyes still fixed upon the boat.
In many ways it was an extraordinary craft. In foundation it consisted of the old ferry punt in which Amanda and Scatty got about in flood time, but its appearance had been considerably changed by a superstructure of light leafy branches and gorse, so that its real character was completely hidden, a
