Part 20 (1/2)

”Not so close as you imagine,” was the answer. ”Probably he is waiting until they come nearer together.”

The next moment there stepped boldly forth the slight, brown figure; the birds instantly rose from the water and, with swift, straight flight, made down the valley; but they had not got many yards when there were two white puffs of smoke, both birds almost simultaneously came tumbling to the ground, and then followed the double report of a gun.

”Waveney has got his eye in to-day for certain,” Sir Hugh said. ”But what's the use of his bringing the birds along?--they're no good to anybody.”

”I thought perhaps they might be of some use for salmon-flies,” Captain Waveney explained, as he came up. ”Aren't they, Roderick?”

The keeper regarded the two birds contemptuously, and shook his head.

”Well, Waveney, we will give you five minutes' grace, if you like,” Sir Hugh said. ”Sit down and have a pipe.”

But this slim and wiry warrior had not even taken the gun from his shoulder.

”No, no,” said he, ”if you are ready, I am. I can get plenty of smoking done in the South.”

So they began again; but the afternoon was now on the wane, and the beats were leading them homewards. Only two small incidents that befell the novice need mentioning. The first happened in this wise: the dogs were ranging widely over what appeared to be rather a barren beat, when suddenly one of them came to a dead point a considerable distance on. Of course Captain Waveney and Sir Hugh hurried forward; but Lionel could not, for he had got into trouble with a badly jammed cartridge. Just as he heard the first shot fired, he managed to get the empty case extracted and to replace it with a full one; and then he was about to hasten forward when he saw the covey rise--a large covey it was--while Captain Waveney got a right and left, and Sir Hugh fired his remaining barrel, for he had not had time to reload. At the same instant Lionel found that one of the birds had doubled back and was coming right over his head; up went his gun; he blazed away; and down rolled the grouse some dozen yards behind him.

”Well done!” Sir Hugh called out, ”A capital shot!”

”A ghastly fluke, Sir Hugh!” Lionel called out, in return. ”I simply fired in the air.”

”And a very good way of firing, too!” was the nave rejoinder.

But his next achievement was hardly so creditable. They were skirting the edge of a birch-wood that clothed the side of a steep precipice overlooking the Aivron, where there were some patches of bracken among the heather, when the setter in front of him--a young dog--began to draw rather falteringly on to something.

”Ware rabbit, Hector!” the keeper said, in an undertone.

But meanwhile the older dog, that was backing in front of Captain Waveney, whether it was impatient of this uncertainty on the part of its younger companion, or whether it was jealous, managed, un.o.bserved, to steal forward a foot or two, until suddenly it stopped rigid.

”Good dog, Iris, good dog!” Captain Waveney said (for he had overlooked that little bit of stealthy advance), and he s.h.i.+fted his gun from his right hand to his left, and stooped down and patted the animal's neck--though all the time he was looking well ahead.

Then all at once there was a terrific whir of wings; Waveney quickly put his gun to his shoulder--paused--took it down again; at the same moment Lionel, finding a bird within his proper field, as he considered--though it was going away at a prodigious speed--took steady aim and fired. That distant object dropped--there was not a flutter. Of course the keeper and Sir Hugh were still watching the young dog; but when this doubtful scent came to nothing, Sir Hugh turned to Lionel.

”That was a long shot of yours, Mr. Moore,” said he. ”And very excusable.”

”Excusable?” said Lionel, wondering what he had done this time.

”Of course you knew that was a blackc.o.c.k?” the other said.

”A blackc.o.c.k?” he repeated.

”Didn't you hear Roderick call out? Didn't you see Waveney put up his gun and then take it down?”

”Neither the one nor the other; I only saw a bird before me--and fired.”

”Oh, well, there's no great harm done; if a man has no worse sin on his conscience than shooting a blackc.o.c.k on the Twelfth, he should sleep sound o' nights. Waveney is fastidious. I dare say, if the bird had come my way, I should not have resisted the temptation.”

Lionel considered that Sir Hugh was an exceedingly considerate and good-natured person; and in fact when they picked up the dead bird, and when he was regarding its handsome plumage, it cannot fairly be said that he was very sorry for his venial mistake. Only he considered he was bound in honor to make confession to Miss Cunyngham.

Alas! he was to see little of Miss Cunyngham that night. As soon as dinner was over--and Sir Hugh and his satellite had left the dining-room to enter up the game-book, write labels for special friends, and generally finish up the business of the day--Lady Adela proposed a game of Dumb Crambo; and in this she was heartily backed up by the Lestranges, for Miss Georgie seemed to think that the mantle of Kitty Clive had descended upon her shoulders, while her brother evidently regarded himself as a facetious person. Speedily it appeared, however, that there was to be a permanent and stationary audience. Lord Fareborough--especially after dinner, when his nervous system was still in dark deliberation as to what it meant to do with him--was too awful a personage to be approached; Honnor Cunyngham good-humoredly said that she was too stupid to join in; and Lord Rockminster declared that if that was her excuse, it applied much more obviously to himself.