That's Rob.
Only I can't go to battle, so I send him. Don't you think that's a nice
idea?"
"Did he get killed?" asked Dudley, with interest; "I forget about him."
"It doesn't say--I expect he lived as long as Jonathan did, and then
perhaps David took him to be his servant. That's what I've settled with
Rob, that he shall be your servant if I die."
Dudley gave himself an impatient shake.
"Oh, shut up with that rot, you'll live as long as I do!"
Roy did not speak for a minute, then he said, slowly, "You remember my
will that I made when I was so ill?"
"Yes, what did you do with it?"
"Aunt Judy found it the next morning on the floor nearly under the bed.
She laughed a little at first, and then got quite grave when I explained
it, and she took it away and locked it up somewhere. But if I never
make another, you will remember that I have left Rob to you for your
servant."
Dudley looked up with a comical gleam in his eye.
"And who gave Rob to you, old chap?"
"I took him--at least he gave himself to me."
Roy's tone was dignity itself, but Dudley laughed.
"Well he doesn't belong to you any longer; the Queen has got him."
"I have lent him to her, that's all.
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