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Updated: June 29, 2025


Nivel and I jumped into a hansom to catch the five o'clock express, glad to get out of the thick atmosphere of London into the bright crisp air of Norfolk. "I think you've done right," remarked St. Nivel in the train, "in getting an old cavalry man. He'll understand hunting things." As I could not afford to hunt I missed the point of the signification.

"Staying in bed on a huntin' mornin' is not exactly my form, even when the quarry is merely a harmless Trappist!" "Your early habits do you credit, but your language, St. Nivel," I said reprovingly, "is verging on the profane." "I'm sure I'm very sorry," he answered. "I'd walk ten miles rather than offend any one's feelings. I hope Don Juan didn't hear me."

"I am so glad we are going by this boat instead of the next," remarked St. Nivel, taking a glass of Chartreuse from the attentive waiter who was on the look out for a parting tip; "a fortnight makes all the difference in that part of the world; we shall just get there for the tail end of the summer, which they say is glorious.

Nivel, Lady Ethel, and Dolores looking very pale and ill, were just finishing lunch. My darling sat beside me while I lunched and held my hand when it was disengaged unheeded by Mrs. Darbyshire. This lady, I think, considered that the case had got beyond her and had better be relegated to a higher court Don Juan d'Alta for judgment.

When, however, I descended from my bedroom at 7.45, after partaking of a delicious petit déjeuner of coffee, milk, bread, and fruit in my apartment, I found Don Juan d'Alta ready for the road, and the motor at the door. In five minutes St. Nivel joined us. "I didn't like to be left behind, old sportsman," he exclaimed.

For the most part they wore very loose garments and high-crowned hats, somewhat of the kind worn by Guy Fawkes. Slung at the saddle of each man was a coil of rope a lasso. Nearly every one of them carried a rifle. "I shall get my revolver," I exclaimed. "I've left it in my dressing-bag." "Do nothing of the sort," cried St. Nivel, in alarm; "they would shoot you instantly."

"Whatever is the matter?" cried Ethel, who was sitting in a compartment of the smoking-car with us. "I hope there is no accident." St. Nivel, who was sitting opposite to me, suddenly leaned forward and whispered "If you have that packet of yours handy, give it to me. I think there will be trouble." He had travelled in America before, and I placed a good deal of reliance on his experience.

"Bill," he said confidentially, "all this splendour is simply barbaric." But nobody grudged little Dolores her grand wedding, nor the magnificent gifts, for every one loved her. I was sitting calmly at breakfast on the morning of the day preceding our wedding, with my mind filled to overflowing with the happiness before me, when St. Nivel burst in upon me.

At the same time, rapid footsteps came up the stairs, and, in a few moments, I found a very familiar face, with an absolutely astounded expression on it looking down into mine. "In Heaven's name!" a well-known voice cried, "what are you doing here, Bill?" It was my cousin, Lord St. Nivel, a subaltern in the Coldstream Guards!

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